“The long sleeves. I know it’s raining but it isn’t cold, Pres. Aren’t you just dying to put a camisole on or something? I’m running with sweat over here. It’s so humid. I hope we do have a storm. This heat needs to break.”
On the other end of the couch, Carrie grins impishly down at her phone, which can only mean one thing: a new text from Dash. Not too long ago, things were very different. Elodie hadn’t even transferred to the academy. It was Carrie, and Mara, and me. We were all single. Carrie and I were both in love with Riot House boys but barely spoke about the feelings we were harboring. Dash was unobtainable, and Pax was fucking terrifying. Mara was obsessed with the idea of fucking Wren, but it was nothing more than that. She just wanted to say that she’d done it, brag a little, then move on. Her interest in boys was never an interest in them as people. Not until our English teacher, of course.
Now, Carrie is with her Riot House boy, Mara is dead, Elodie’s arrival completely changed Wren Jacobi. And me… I don’t even know what’s happened to me anymore. The walls that kept me safe, the ones I built to protect myself, they all came crashing down when I nearly bled out and died in front of the hospital. I came screaming back into my own body, blinded by pain, and there was Pax, kneeling over me with a look of pure fascination on his face. I was still me, my sense of self was still intact, if a little battered. But something had intrinsically changed. Parts of me were gone. I was reborn.
So now, here I am. Both me and not me.
“I’m fine actually,” I tell Elodie.
“You’re not about to pass out? They need to crank the AC in here or something.”
Out of the window, in the distance, a flare of white light rips through the sky in the distance. No rumble of thunder follows—the storm must still be too far away for that—but Elodie’s head sinks back on the couch, relief spreading across her face. “Oh, thank God.”
“Dash is on his way up here.” Carrie says this around a shit-eating grin. If I were smiling that hard, I doubt I’d be able to speak at all. I love seeing her this happy. She’s so good and sweet. She deserves to be at peace and with the guy she loves after all of the ups and downs of the past few months. And, surprisingly, I never thought I’d say this, but I do like having Dash around. He’s nothing like I expected him to be. He’s actually funny, and he loves Carina so much. I can see it pouring out of him, quietly, in small ways I would have overlooked before I knew him. He’s understated, but when you begin to understand him, the way he touches Carina, and the way he looks at her, and talks to her, the way he just is around her, you realize just how much he worships her.
Elodie pouts at her phone. “Wren’s helping Pax with something back at the house. He’s not coming.”
My ears prick up at this. Pax is doing something at the house that requires Wren’s help? What could he be doing that he needs Jacobi’s help? Could be anything. They could be working out; Wren could be spotting him. He could be building something. Moving furniture? I don’t fucking know. The point is that I hate not knowing. It feels as though I should know. There’s a taut line of connection between Pax and I now, much like the friendship bracelet I made for him, only stronger. And just like that friendship bracelet, he’s pulling at it, trying to get it to break, but with every tug he’s only making it tighter. Why can’t he see that?
When I look up, I find both Elodie and Carina are staring at me. “What? What is it? Is there something on my face?”
“You’re just a million miles away,” Carrie says. “You’ve been a little off-kilter since we came back from break. You okay?”
Shit. Maybe I spoke too soon. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, totally fine. I’m great.”
Carrie isn’t convinced. “Sure? If your dad’s still pressuring you to move into the house now that he lives in town, don’t let him do it. You’re not allowed to go anywhere, you hear?” She pretends to pout. “We have so little time left, all three of us living at the academy. I don’t want to miss a second of it.”
I smile ruefully, shaking my head. If they had any idea how hard Dad’s still been pushing for me to move home, they’d be mobilizing to some sort of war room to make contingency plans. “He’s been fine actually,” I lie. “I’m just not sleeping that well. Assignment stress, I suppose.”
“Study session tonight?” Carina suggests.
“Sure.”
Elodie nods, too. “But I’m bringing snacks. I can’t concentrate on anything unless I have popcorn and Junior Mints in front of me.” Her phone, resting on top of her knee, dings. On the other side of the library, an irritated cough lets us know the ding was heard and we’d better watch our asses. Elodie checks her phone and cracks a smile.
“Jesus, if you’re gonna grin like that, you might as well tell us why.” Carina snaps her book closed.
“Trust me. You do not want to know.”
“Urgh. Gross.”
She turns her phone sideways, eyes glued to the screen, brows slowly rising. “I happen to think it’s sexy as hell.”
Carina shudders, but it’s all for show. I’m sure whatever wicked delight Jacobi sent to Elodie would pique most people’s interest. The man is undeniably attractive, if a little insane. Carrie’s fake disgust disappears when she sees Dash weaving his way through the stacks toward us. “I’d put that away if I were you. We have incoming.”
Lord Dashiell Lovett IV arrives in a whirlwind of wet dirty blond hair and ozone. He brings the storm from outside in with him. He shakes his hair all over Carina, wearing a full Hollywood smile as he does so. Water droplets pelt Carrie, and a couple hit Elodie in the process. Both girls swat at him, growling and making threats, but neither of them are really angry. I watch the scene with melancholy detachment.
Alone.
Other.
Outside.
Apart from.
Dash throws himself down onto the couch in between Elodie and Carrie. He pulls his girlfriend into his side, throwing an arm around her, and my heart aches.
“You’re getting me all wet,” Carrie grouses.
“You say that like it’s an unusual occurrence.” He lays a swoon-worthy kiss on her that wouldn’t look out of place in an old black and white movie from the nineteen-twenties. When they’re done, Dash turns and gives me a broad, genuine smile.
“What’s up, Pres. I hear you got landed writing a whole book with my most belligerent roommate. How are you holding up?”
I read Pax’s first chapter last night after I got back. I read it, and then I laid in bed and I replayed the whole dark maze-nightmare over and over in my head until my heart was racing and I could feel the claustrophobia of those cold, dripping, ancient stone walls as they pressed in on all sides. The writing was excellent. The chapter itself made such an impact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.
Out of the blue, without even processing the words, I open my mouth and make a dangerous request. “Dash, can you give me Pax’s number?”
My two best friends and the Sun God of Riot House stare at me like I’ve just started speaking in tongues. All three of them look so shocked that I repeat the request. “His cell phone number. So I can text him. I, uh…want to text him.”