“Remember, think about flying,” Flint tells me, and he’s a little farther away than he was a minute ago. I’m not sure if that’s because he thinks I’m going to fly or if it’s because he thinks I’m going to crash and wants to be out of the blast radius.
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself as I try to focus. Nothing does but thinking about flying. The fact that I have no idea how I’m supposed to do that doesn’t matter at all.
I’m flying. I’m flying. I’m flying. Flint told me to think about flying, so I’m thinking about flying. I’m flying. Like a bird. Like a plane. Like…okay, bad analogy. I’m flying. I’m fly—
I jump and…land on my stony ass—which, it turns out, doesn’t hurt nearly as much as when I fall on my human ass. Thankfully. Though it is definitely more jolting.
“It’s also definitely not flying,” Hudson teases from where he’s still lounging a few feet up on the bleachers.
“Are you okay?” Jaxon asks as he comes jogging over to help me up. “I’m sorry, I was too far away to catch you.”
Of course he would think he was supposed to catch me. I shake my head and smile. “No worries. Stone is a good shock absorber.”
He laughs. “No, it’s not.”
“No, it’s not,” I agree, brushing the grass off my fleece pants. “But I swear it didn’t hurt. I’m all right.”
“Good.” He nods to the railing. “You want to try it again?”
“Not even a little bit.”
He lifts a brow. “Going to do it anyway?”
I lift my chin. “Abso-freaking-lutely.”
63
There Aren’t Enough
Happy Thoughts
in the World
Jaxon holds out a hand. “Let me help you up.”
I think about arguing, then decide, why would I? I have no interest in hauling my stony self on top of a three-foot railing. To be honest, I’m not sure I could get my regular self on top of the railing, either.
Two minutes later, I’m back on the ground, and this time my ass does hurt.
Three minutes after that, my ass and my pride hurt.
“Are you sure I don’t need to think happy thoughts?” I ask Flint.
He grins. “I mean, you can try, but I don’t think that will help, either.”
“Yeah, well, the grumpy thoughts sure aren’t cutting it.”
“No shit.” Hudson shakes his head and leans even farther back, placing both his hands behind his head. “Although the entertainment value is priceless.”
Flint helps me up this time. “So, fourth time’s the charm?”
“Fourth time is let’s try something different,” Jaxon interjects, taking my hand and pulling me toward the center of the field.
“How am I going to fly out here?” I ask. “Don’t I need to start from someplace higher?”
He grins at me. “You are going to start from someplace higher.” And then he lifts us up, up, up, until we’re hovering close to the roof of the practice field.
“Umm, while I appreciate the ride, it’s not flying if you’re lifting me up.” I have to bite back an honest-to-God snicker as I imagine the two of us floating around up there like a few blimps. Hudson would never let me live it down.
“Guess you’d better fly, then, huh?” Hudson says. “Otherwise, I’m going to live off this for days…”
“Trust me, I won’t be lifting you up for long.” Jaxon pulls away a little, floating backward until we’re no longer touching. “Now, try.”
I look down at the ground about fifty feet below and wonder if I really want to try from this height. But trying on the ground didn’t work at all, and if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that Jaxon won’t let me fall. So what do I have to lose?
With that in mind, I close my eyes and think happy thoughts about flying. I’m not saying it worked, but I am saying that for the first time, my wings start to move—and they do it without my consciously deciding to move them.
It’s a weird feeling. Not a bad one, but definitely a weird one. On the ground, I didn’t feel much of anything when I was moving my wings, but now that I’m up here, it’s a very different story. There’s pressure underneath them that I didn’t expect, and each time my wings push through, it gives me a little jolt.
“You’re still holding me, right?” I ask Jaxon as I start to move forward.
“Absolutely,” he answers with a grin that he’s trying really hard to hide.
I know it’s because I look ridiculous—I keep catching myself stroking my arms out in front of me like doing the breaststroke in midair is actually going to get me somewhere or something.
The absurdity is made worse by the fact that the faster I get my wings to go, the more likely I am to end up bobbing up and down. Which means if I don’t get this whole thing figured out soon, I’m going to find myself swimming through the air, all while looking like I’m practicing bizarrely timed evasive maneuvers anytime I want to fly.
Probably not the way I want to go, considering even my mate can’t keep a straight face. I can only imagine what Flint and Macy and the others are thinking down below.
“I think we should quit,” I tell Jaxon after a few more minutes of attempting to stay semi-vertical and also fly. “I’m never going to get this.”
“That’s not true. You’re already so much better than you were.”
“Considering my worst was plummeting off a railing, I feel like you’re sugarcoating things.”
He grins at me, and though he’s several feet away, I swear I feel him caress my face. “One more time,” he says. “For me. I’ve got an idea.”
“What’s your idea?”
“I’ll tell you after. Just go ahead and try.”
“Fine,” I agree, “But after this, I’m done being today’s entertainment. I’ll have to find another way to contribute to the team…like being the water/blood girl.”
He laughs. “I’m sure it’s not going to come to that.”
“I’m not.”
But I said I would give it one more shot, so I will. I get my wings up to speed, and then I concentrate on moving forward, sans breaststroke.
For a minute, it looks like I’m about to go backward, and then suddenly, I jerk forward. “Oh my God!” I screech, beyond excited…until a few seconds later, I plummet about fifteen feet straight down.