“Arealwitch would have been able to put it out themselves,” a snide voice drawls above me, followed by jeering laughter.
“Shut up, Cynthia.” Tori snaps. She tries to help me up but I pull away. That’s the thing about living in Lynden for twenty years: if you didn’t get back up whenever you got knocked down, you learn real quick that no one is coming to save you. My numb fingers somehow unclasp the cape from around my neck, and I manage to get my phone before letting the ruined fabric fall tothe ground in a sopping heap. The train of my dress is gone, and I realize how perilously close I came to being seriously injured.
For the second time tonight, all eyes are on me.
But this time I’m all alone.
When I finally stand, Tori looks as distressed as I should probably be feeling right now, but fortunately for me, I can compartmentalize like a motherfucker.
“Here, let me?—”
“Goodnight, Tori,” I say woodenly, and turn my back on the crowd of onlookers as I walk away.
Away.
Away.
Away.
A memory flashes through my mind as I slowly walk towards the dorms. Of Thane saying over and over again, “I want to go home.”
I’m cold.
I think I’m in shock.
It could just be the soaking wet dress.
I’m probably in shock.
I can’t feel my fingers and toes.
That’s bad, I think.
The weight of the dress feels lighter with every step.
I think I’m hallucinating.
That’s really bad.
“Nyx,” a rasping voice calls out from behind me, “here.” Warmth descends over my shoulders as I keep walking.
Oh. I know him.
Heavy palms land on my shoulders as his tall body blocks mine, forcing me to stop. He brushes my chin, tilting my head back to meet his gaze.
Such pretty eyes.
“I dried out your dress.”
Oh.
“Can—do you want me to walk you to your room?”
The glint of moonlight in his eyes thaws some of the numbness from my mind.
“Why?” I frown.
“You helped me.”
