“Hey!”
I hear her voice before the footsteps crunching on the gravel path. I look up and find Mara a little out of breath, a stray strand of her dark hair sticking to her cheek. She brushes it aside as she reaches me, offering me a faint smile. “Hey… sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay. Are… you okay?”
She sits beside me on the stone bench underneath the ivy-draped gazebo. I close my notebook and set my pen on top of it.
“Yeah! It’s just, this week has been… incredibly infuriating.”
“I’m sorry about Dredyn last week at the library. He was out of line.”
Mara watches my hands and shakes her head. “It wasn’t your fault. Dredyn can apologize for himself, if he ever feels like it, or if apologizing is even in his realm of emotions. If the meltdown at the library wasn’t enough, he had to parade me around at fight night. He literally dragged me out of there in front of everyone.” She rubs her temples. “This was such a stupid idea, Jasper. I came up with the plan after my mother started to put pressure on me to associate myself with Chase Harrington. And I couldn’t… I just can’t do it anymore.”
A breeze ruffles through the garden, carrying the sweet scent of jasmine. I study her face.
“Sometimes,” Mara says quietly, “I think the only way out of this mess is to burn it all down.” She gives me a wry, tired smile. “Torch the whole damn script and walk away.”
I raise an eyebrow and sign, “You already lit the match.”
She gives a surprised snort. “What, Talon?” She shakes her head. “Talon’s just gasoline. Sure, he’s happy to pour himself on the fire, but… it was already burning. I’ve always been the black sheep.” She leans forward, elbows on her knees, and turns her head to look at me intently. “Do you think I’m insane? Be honest.”
Her eyes are wide, searching mine. I want to tell her she’s brilliant. That I’ve never met anyone so incredible. But instead… “Not insane. Just… tired of cages.”
Her lips twitch in a half-smile. “It was supposedto be controlled chaos—a fake relationship. My rebellion, but safe. My rules.” She shakes her head, dark hair sliding against her cheek. “Then Dredyn happened. And now, it’s like I’ve lost the plot entirely.”
“You deserve to choose. Not be chosen for.”
She glances at me, and for a split second her expression softens. Then, she huffs out a quiet laugh, bitter at the edges. “Tell that to my father.”
I want to. God, I want to. I want to storm into that polished, perfect house of hers and tell her father to go to hell. That his daughter isn’t a pawn, isn’t a weapon. She’s?—
“—Talon’s good at it,” she interrupts my thoughts suddenly. “At making it look real. Sometimes I forget it’s fake.”
I force my own mouth to lift, but inside, it feels like something is twisting hard and deep. Of course he makes her laugh. Of course he can touch her in front of everyone. I was the one she let in first, and now I’m the one watching from the sidelines.
My leg starts bouncing before I realize it, nerves leaking out where I can’t control them. I flatten my hand on my thigh, willing it still, but it’s too late. She’s already noticed.
“Anyway.” She blows out a breath, forcing brightness into her voice that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I needed a break. Thanks for… not making me feel like I’m losing my mind.”
The breeze shifts. She closes her eyes briefly, inhaling, and when they flutter open, I swear the sunlight makes her look almost untouchable. When her eyes open again, her brows pinch softly and before I can process what she’s doing, her fingers slip into my hair.
She plucks a small yellow leaf from just above my ear, her touch brushing through a lock of hair. Her fingertips linger near my temple, hesitant, as though she’s not sure whether to pull away.
“Sorry. You… had a leaf.” Mara withdraws her hand slowly. “It’s getting late,” she murmurs, almost regretfully. “I should probably head back soon.”
“There’s a bonfire tonight. At the chapel. You should come”
Her lips twist. “The bonfire? No. I can’t do that tonight. Milo would lose his mind if I went.”
“You know if you don’t go… he may send Beck for you anyway.”
She groans, tipping her head back against the pillar. “Why are Omega Chi Kappa guys the most insufferable?”
“Hey! I take offense as an officer.”
She cuts me a look. “They just don’t know you’re mixed blood.”
No one outside OCK has ever said that aloud to me before. My father was OCK through and through. My mother? PTO royalty. A match no one approved of. He bullied her until she broke, then claimed it was love.
