I stopped below the oak tree where we buried him. There was a path that had been made in the grass, trudged by someone walking there several times a day. Mama or Daddy? Did they come out here and talk to him when they couldn’t sleep? Did they ask him why?
I hadn’t been back here since it happened. Couldn’t walk in our house, couldn’t face it or him, couldn’t face every single way I’d failed. Failed my brother, failed my family, failed everyone. I had been so busy, focused on publications, and research, and mastering Magic, and studying studying studying that I didn’t notice that my brother was so sad he didn’t want to live anymore.
I stood staring at his grave. A small stone marker, the plainest, cheapest one they had. Next to it, they’d placed the hiking stick that he’d used to walk in the hills, the knob at the top carved into the face of an old man. It was starting to warp from the rain and wind.
If I’d noticed more, I would have seen the bags under his eyes and known he wasn’t sleeping. He had a few friends at S&B. Did they have any clue? I asked them after it happened.
No, they’d said. Aaron was so quiet. He didn’t tell a soul.
Of course. No one looked at a kid like Aaron.
My own brother, and I missed it.
Missed it even more because he’d been trying to reach out to me for help, and did I even look up from studying? Did I even look up from my stupid fucking obsession with Magic?
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I whispered.
I barely registered the soft footsteps in the grass. Mom came up behind me, wrapping her cardigan around herself to guard from the night’s chill. “Saw the truck. Thought that might be you.”
I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “It was my fault. I missed it.”
“Oh, honey, no.” The knit of her sweater brushed against my chin. She smelled the same, like those incense sticks she bought from the corner store. She looked the same too, only her hair was whiter, the roundness of her cheeks thinned. “You’ve got to let go of that. None of this was your fault.”
It hit me how much older she was getting. I’d been gone, but here everything felt like it was moving at warp speed. “I’m so sorry, Mama. That I’ve been gone. That I didn’t come back. That I left in the first place.” My breath came short and fast, the tears hot on my cheeks. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. “I’m so sorry about all of it.”
“Shh, shh,” she said, and my mother held me and kissed my cheek.
After I’d settled, she hummed a song she used to sing on the radio and offered me a cigarette. We looked out at the old tire swing, still on the ground from the time Aaron and I tried to swing at the same time and snapped the rope, at the fence that was falling over.
“We all blame ourselves. Lord knows, I struggle with it every day.” She paused and looked toward the sky. “But the last thing he would’ve wanted was you throwing your life away over this. Go back to school, honey.”
She walked back down the grass path to the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Iwanted to return to the library and our research, but since the frat party, Max had harped on me nonstop about practicing together. Other than the attempt in Maritza’s cottage, I hadn’t done Magic since I was back on campus, and Max and I hadn’t cast together at all. Word had spread quickly of my actions at the frat party, and now it felt like every room I entered greeted me with an icy silence. The students took off ense to my role as a “spy”—only had myself to blame for that one—and believed I’d name them as suspects if they said the wrong thing around me. I caught whispers of rumors that I was actually an Arbiter, and other, more disturbing ones, too. That the underwear found in Dr. Strauss’s office was mine. That we’d had an illicit aff air, and now I was looking to pin the crime on someone else to protect him. That I’d gone mad. I was the one who’d cast the hex on Dani and was looking for my next victim. I had to agree with Max. Being confident in our Magic use would make me feel a lot safer here. And I had to face it sooner or later.
“Nice boots,” Max said.
“Picked up some clothes from home.”
“No shit? That’s awesome. I hope you told your mom I said hello.”
We were sitting across from each other in a little-used courtyard outside the Science building. A peaceful spot, with a few old pavers buried in the grass, beneath the roots of a gnarled juniper that provided a little shade. Max put his jacket down for me to sit on. I stared at him for a moment, his throat bobbing, eyes focused on the ground. Felt the brush and dip of his Magic—he was nervous. I was nervous, too. It had been a long time since we’d trusted each other enough to do this.
I closed my eyes, waiting for his breathing to settle and match mine. My mind wandered. A bee buzzed past. I was reminded of another breakthrough Max and I’d had together, a short while after we’d found out we were dimidiums.
We’d been at it all night, practicing in an abandoned room in Ludlow House, and we’d finally done it. We’d actually cast together, and I could feel his Magic surging through me. It wasn’t perfect; we still had a long way to go, and our Magic came out in small spurts, as though from a faulty hose, but it worked. After weeks of long nights and brutal days, pushing ourselves to the absolute brink of our strength, finally, it had worked.
“That was … fucking amazing,” he’d said, breathing hard. He broke out in a fit of exhausted, giddy laughter. “I mean, that wasfucking amazing, Cella.”
“I know,” I said, beaming. Our first touch of Magic, what a head rush. I felt electric, like all my senses were on fire.
“Fuck, we’ve got to celebrate. Unless”—a rare glimpse of self-consciousness in the usually so self-assured Max—“unless you had plans?”
I shook my head. “I was going to eat Twizzlers and sneak my dog into my dorm room. It can wait.”
And he laughed again, that adorable, boisterous laugh where he gripped his sides. I loved hearing him laugh. Suddenly, I knew that if I could, I’d make him laugh, every day, for the rest of my life.
