Way to be a supportive friend.
“I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I can’t make a joke to save my life. You’re so talented. You won’t need any help. Please forget I said anything.”
He pursed his lips, chewing on his words. “Do you feel guilty about rigging the Homecoming election?”
I rolled with the question, wanting to distance myself from my dumb comment. “Please. In ten years, no one will care who won.”
The guilt I felt about Chase and his girlfriend weighed heavier on my conscience, but I’d deal with that later.
“True fact. But what about the kid with the locker? You don’t feel any remorse in screwing with him and getting him involved in your scheme?” Gideon was checking his hair in the reflection of a glass trophy case, ensuring that each lock was placed where it should be. A needless exercise since he and his hair had a telepathic relationship wherein it did everything exactly as he requested.
I grabbed the end of my ponytail. “I know it seems callous, but no one is forced to make deals with us. Everyone knows the price and they still ask for favors.”
Gideon’s reflection rolled its eyes. “Whatever you say. Just thought someone needed to Jiminy Cricket you before it was too late.”
“No worries. I don’t think I’m in any danger of turning into a donkey.” I chuckled.
“You might make an ass out of yourself yet, but that’s not what worries me.”
My laughter cut off abruptly. “What do you mean?”
“This whole thing. The revenge part, too. You might win the game but lose yourself.”
I turned away with a dismissive wave so he couldn’t see my face. My need to take down the Red Court seemed to occupy most of the space inside my body. Didn’t he know I’d lost myself to it a long time ago?
I dragged my journal out of my bag as we made our way to the library.
October 3
When you’re made of fire, do you feel guilty watching other people burn?
CHAPTER 9
THE TRACK WAS EMPTY most Saturday mornings. I got up extra early to make sure I was the first one there. This time of year, the air was particularly brisk around dawn, but I let it clear my head as I started my warm-up lap on the track that wrapped around the football field. With my earbuds tucked in my ears, and the sun barely peeking over the horizon, I could pretend I was the only person alive. Some might be disturbed by this fantasy, but I found it comforting. There wouldn’t be anyone else to worry about except me.
I was hitting my stride and softly singing along to the music blasting from my earbuds when I saw an unexpected familiar figure walking toward the track. I’d arranged to meet Haley at school later to work on our assignment. I would have time to shower and grab coffee beforehand.
“Hi,” Chase said as I came to a halt in front of him. It was hard not to as he was standing in the middle of my track. Did he think he owned the track? He didn’t. I owned the track.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I’m thinking about going out for track in the spring. Thought I should get some practice in.”
“Of course you are.” Track tryouts were open to anyone in good academic standing. Maybe I could sabotage his grades and that would keep him off my track. I added that to my list of things to look into. If there was one thing I was certain of, it was that getting closer to Chase was a bad idea. Why couldn’t he do me a favor and go back to low-key hating me? My agitation was showing, but I couldn’t seem to tuck it behind the mask of indifference I once wore in front of him. “And why are you in my way?”
He laughed his easy laugh. “Right now or generally?”
“Both.” I stepped around him and started to run in earnest.
He was smiling his stupid, handsome smile and jogged to catch up. “I can’t help myself. I just love being the thing standing between you and something you want.”
“You know, you really shouldn’t run without getting warmed up first.” Gawd, that sounded obnoxious, even to me. Why couldn’t I just be polite and normal around Chase? He would leave me alone if I didn’t let him push my buttons.
“I know. I’m risking a lot to talk to you, so maybe you should just stop so I don’t get hurt.”
What was I supposed to say to that? Throw me on stage at a debate meet and I worked every event, but in front of some cute, infuriating guy, I was totally tongue-tied. I settled for a sneer and pushed my pace.
After a few moments, he said, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
This pulled me up short and I stopped to gape at him. Shut your mouth, Ember. You are not a fish. I snapped my teeth together with an audible click.
Chase looked so unsure, so unlike his normal confident self. “The other day, in the hall, there was something, wasn’t there?”
There certainly was. It was me playacting to get his girlfriend to dump him.
He continued, “I thought I knew who you were, and after we talked, I realized I didn’t know you at all, but I wanted to.”
“You followed me here?” I asked, half–creeped out and half-flattered. Good thing I had pepper spray on my key chain in case Charming Chase turned out to be Creepy Chase.
“No! Well, maybe. I saw you out here by yourself a few weeks ago when I came to watch a soccer game. I was hoping to catch you.”
I was officially confused. “I thought you hated me,” I blurted out. “Don’t you want to beat me at, like, everything we do?”
Chase almost laughed but held it back at my glare. “True, but I also don’t hate you. I like competing with you. You make me want to be the best.”
The Red Court made me dangerous to know. I wished I could reset my relationship with Chase and send us back to a week ago when we were rivals and nothing more. “This makes no sense. We’re enemies. Act like it.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m explaining it all wrong. You’re smart and talented and...beautiful.”
And a liar, my mind added before I could shut the thought out. Haley’s warning came back to me. She would have my head if she knew. Hell, she probably already did. I’d bet I was somehow microchipped, and she was on her way to strip me of my Red Court membership and then bury me six feet under the bleachers as punishment.
“I’m sorry, but this—” I gestured between us “—isn’t in the cards for me.”
Literally. Not in the cards.
“Oh,” he said and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I just thought maybe—God, I feel like such an idiot.”