It was like Thomas had taken a lash to the face. He physically turned away, curled in on himself after the invisible blow. His mouth looked too red, eyes glossy in the rain.
“You know that time when we were twelve and hiking in the forest for class?” Thomas’s voice was uneven, and it took Andrew a second to realize it was with anger. “We decided to race, Dove and me. And the whole time, I was thinking,I want Andrew to look at me. I want Andrew to see me.I’ve loved you since then. So you know what? Fuck you. I think you do love me back, you’re just—you’re too much a coward to admit it.”
Andrew shoved away and took off down the garden path. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear past the world ending. He wipedfuriously at his eyes, but what he needed was to curl into a ball and stop existing for a second before he completely lost it.Panic attack.But he couldn’t force words out to warn anyone. Not that there was anyone to go to for help. He hadn’t just pushed Thomas away, he’d made sure to cut his throat on the way out.
Why had he done that—
The remains of a battlefield lay in his wake, broken swords and hollyhock crowns left to decay among piles of bones. But the sword plunged through his stomach was his fault. All Thomas had done was ask to love a boy lost in fairy tales, and the boy had ordered him punished.
“Andrew.”
Then again, anguished and breathless, as if he regretted what he’d said.
“Andrew,wait.”
He ran.
TWENTY-FOUR
Andrew couldn’t remember the shape of himself, if he’d ever had one.
He felt nothing, saw nothing, as the forgotten garden fell away and he ran toward the dorms. A cool autumn breeze licked at his corners, and he’d never felt more like paper about to be swept into the sky. He wanted this to stop. He wanted tonot be here. In his skin. In his head.
He was goddamndone.
He collided with a group of students exiting the library, knocking books and folders from their hands while they yelled after him. He kept running. Nothing mattered but the name tearing from his lips.
“Dove.DOVE.”
A pathetic boy made of glass and delicate things, running to his sister for help; it was an embarrassing picture, but he didn’t care.
Ahead, a ponytail of honey gold disappeared around the corner, and he plunged after her. But the path ended at the girls’ dorm—one place he couldn’t follow. She’d done that on purpose.
Everything inside him boiled over, a wave of something foul and black and malignant gushing up his throat to coat histongue. They were twins, she his other half. She could not abandon him when he needed her most.
“DOVE.Please.” He tore forward, the world blurring around him.
He pushed through a group of girls hanging out in front of their dorm, and their voices rose, surprised and indignant. Words hit his back and slid off, meaningless. Someone said his name.
He shoved through their front door. “I have to find my sister. Dove? DOVE.”
A person blocked his path. He was so far underwater, drowning in ink, that he couldn’t make out her face or expression, could barely feel the timid hands on his shoulders, pushing him backward.
“Andrew, go back outside. Please, listen to me. Our supervisor will hear. Just—please?”
A dull part of his brain registered Chloe’s face before she propelled him outside with a surprising amount of force. Her brow scrunched up in anxious lines and she kept petting his arm as if to apologize for pushing him so hard.
As soon as they stumbled onto the grass, several of the other girls stormed over, arms folded.
“I’m so telling a teacher. No boys in our dorms.”
Chloe kept a firm grip on Andrew’s arm. “And I’ll tell Lana that you snitched. Do you want to deal with that?”
That shut them up. They backed off, but Andrew could still feel their suspicion and curiosity drilling holes in his back. He had fallen halfway through time before realizing Chloe had lefthim and then returned with Lana. He should be grateful, but he couldn’t feel anything. He was numb, blinded with rage, and he didn’t know which way was up.
Lana stalked toward him, half in her drama costume with heavy eye makeup and an unreadable expression. “Andrew, what the hell?”
Whispers beat against his back.
