Then Trey. Then Vaelor. Beckett whistles, sharp and loud.
Nova freezes.
Her head whips around and she sees us—all of us, lined up on the porch, applauding like she just won something—and her face goes so red I can see it from here.
She buries her face in Kyron’s neck.
He’s laughing, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, still holding her up with the other arm. “It’s okay,” I hear him say. “You’re okay.”
She mumbles something into his shoulder. He laughs harder.
“What’d she say?” Rane calls out.
“She said she hates all of you.”
“Fair enough.”
Kyron carries her up the steps. She still won’t look at us, face hidden, ears bright red. He’s stroking her hair, murmuring something I can’t hear, and the way she melts into him—
Mine. Ours. Hers.
“Nova.”
She tenses at my voice. Lifts her head just enough to peek at me with one eye.
“Welcome back,” I say.
She groans and buries her face again.
Chapter 29
Nova
Two weeks.
Two weeks of waking up in a house that’s starting to feel like mine. Two weeks of meals I don’t have to hide to eat. Two weeks of walking to class with people on all sides of me—not boxing me in, just… there.
I’m wearing the green sweater. The soft one Zoe made me buy. It still feels strange, owning something this nice. But every time I put it on, I feel more comfortable in my own skin than I ever have.
“That color looks good on you.”
Kyron falls into step beside me. His eyes drag down to the sweater, then back up to my face. Slow and deliberate.
My face goes warm. Too warm. I blame the morning air. I blame him.
“Thanks,” I manage.
His mouth curves. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Trey’s waiting at the end of the path like he has been every morning for the past two weeks. He should just have a room at this point. I don’t sayit, but I think it every time I see him standing there, hands in his pockets, scanning the path until he spots us.
Spots me.
His shoulders drop when our eyes meet. Like he was holding his breath until he knew I was there.
I don’t know what to do with that. So I don’t do anything. Just let Rane bump my shoulder as we reach Trey, let Vaelor’s hand brush my back as the group shifts to absorb him.
Always in the middle. I’ve stopped fighting it.
