16. Ivory
She swung her legs back and forth, kicking the rubber heel of her shoes against the old brick building with small, dull thuds. Most of the school’s structures were newer, but some had been around long enough to outwit modern safety protocols.
Tucked away in a corner of campus bordering the woods, a three-story building sat with a rusted metal escape ladder hanging down the side that cut off just above an industrial dumpster. She was barely tall enough to reach the bottom rung while balancing on the dumpster’s icy rim, but pulling herself up to the roof had been worth it.
After a conversation with her mom about another mediocre test score, she needed space, not the suffocating stuffiness of a dorm room. She needed the open sky, to see something other than a projection of who she was supposed to be.
Between avoiding everyone at Beta Rho, namely Jace, Jewelle, and Serena, and convincing her parents she didn’t go out partying every night, life had become a tightrope.
Reaching for success had begun to taste so bitter.
Even worse, she couldn’t obtain it. She didn’t know how to patch things up between her friends, she wasn’t getting grades good enough to maintain the Monroe legacy of becoming valedictorian, and the harder she tried, the more she sunk into a pit that sucked away her joy.
She’d never cared about being average, but now her identity had begun to fade away entirely, and it became harder and harder to keep her promise to Adrian—to appreciate herself.
So she finally made up her mind to dye her hair. Not out of desperation to see him again, though that was a plus, and not even to make Nia’s drunken excuse at the Halloween party more valid. Because she wanted it. For herself.
Such a trivial thing shouldn’t take much effort to decide—either leave it or try a change. A new hair color would hardly be life-altering, and it would grow back naturally, but precisely because it was trivial, she hadn’t pursued it.
It wouldn’t really matter in the long run. It didn’t change who she was or wasn’t.
Everyone else wouldn’t care one way or the other—but more importantly, the last time she tried to ask for what she wanted, Jace happened. All it took was one foolish, naive slip-up, and now even the thought of making a tiny off-route decision felt daunting.
But after hours of debating, getting up the nerve to send a text, and now no reply from Adrian, she still hadn’t rescinded her request.
She wanted to look in the mirror and see someone different. Less of a little lost girl and more of a witch capable of casting her own magic. Maybe a hint of what Adrian said she was—powerful.
Even if she’d never felt that way her whole life.
She was a sidekick. A pedestrian in passing. An onlooker to a galaxy much bigger and much more significant than herself.
Above her, stars peaked out from darkening skies. The last of the sun’s red rays had long since glared over campus before dipping below the horizon, and she lay nestled in her hoodie, tracing familiar constellations. The wind whispered incomprehensible secrets as it passed over, and the skirmish of animals in the woods let her know she wasn’t alone. Despite wearing decent socks, her toes had gone numb, and her breath now fogged out above her frozen nose, but she didn’t move.
People used to make fun of her for staring at the sky for so long. She’d watch for hours on end—after the eclipse or meteor shower ended and everyone else finished their cup of hot cocoa, she’d still be looking heavenward. They didn’t know she did it even when there wasn’t a reason to look. From her bedroom window, or on a blanket out in the yard when everyone else had gone to sleep, she’d always made time for the stars.
During the day, she got absorbed with looking out for everyone else, but when she was alone with the stars, she didn’t need to hide from herself. She could worry and cry and think without bothering anyone else.
Her phone buzzed, and she jumped. It vibrated from the center pocket of her sweatshirt, tickling her belly. Casting a quick glance around, she reassured herself that, indeed, no one else was out on the abandoned rooftop to witness her overreaction, then relaxed and pulled out her phone, holding the screen above her face.
She blinked, and her heart did a little flip.
He finally replied.
To ensure her first message had sounded clear, she read it over again.
Hey, it’s Ivory. I don’t mean to bother you.
Caspian gave me your number because I mentioned wanting to dye my hair purple. Not sure if you remember, but I’d like to take you up on your offer.
Nothing about that seemed too awkward. But Adrian’s response had multiple lines—too long to be a simple “no.” Her apprehension magnified as she opened the text.
Black Knight
Offer is still good. You can set an appointment up at the salon or come over to my apartment. Either way, it’s free of charge.
She read his words a second time, then a third, and slowly digested his lack of rejection. He’d upheld his promise to be professional. Did this mean he was being polite even though he didn’t like her? Or was his professionalism in spite of deeper feelings?
At first, helping him find whatever it was he needed had been her only goal, and she still wanted that with all her heart, but her desire for his well-being no longer outweighed the possibility of losing their connection. Nothing she’d ever experienced before had come close.
Watching him leave the party that night, content to leave her behind while she clung to his memory, had left a heavy imprint on her chest. When had the scales tipped? The moment she’d outright asked him to fuck her? Or when he’d given her a taste of what exactly that would feel like?
Or maybe it was when she’d believed what he said—that she was good.
Not good enough , just good. A good girl.
She read the reply a fourth time. He gave two options: go to the salon, where she could request any stylist, or go to his apartment.
One held true to their non-stranger pact. Formal, but not outright avoidance.
The other would be more than that. She highly doubted it would lead to a repeat of the last time, even though she’d gladly bend over any surface he wanted, but it was clear that being in his apartment led to conversations they couldn’t have elsewhere.
In the end, she knew she’d made her choice the moment he offered all those months ago.
Your apartment will be fine since I already know where it is, but I’ll pay for the dye.
She didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity, even though he had a job and all she had was her summer savings. His reply came faster than she expected.
Okay. You only need to pay if you want to—it’s not an issue. Did you have a day in mind?
They discussed schedules and settled on next Thursday evening. As the conversation neared its end, she put her phone down on her chest and looked at the night sky. Then reached for the phone again.
Can you see the stars right now? The sky is clear tonight.
No, I’m inside. But I can go out on the porch.
The memory of him standing with the glass door open in his apartment rushed back. The air was just as frigid now as it had been then. Inside, it had smelled clean, like fresh laundry and Pine Sol. If he didn’t smoke indoors, the only place for him to go would be on the porch.
That’s okay. I don’t want to think you’re out there to give yourself lung cancer.
I already smoked tonight, no worries.
She rolled her eyes, grateful he couldn’t see it. The action wouldn’t earn her a reward. She was sure of that.
I’m outside now.
She giggled—he’d really gone outside! Carefully, she selected her next words.
If you ever wanted someone to listen…I wouldn’t judge or try to fix anything. I won’t even say anything back if you don’t want me to.
That way, we could both be alone, under the stars.
With a deep breath, she pressed send and hoped it hadn’t been too soon to breach such a topic. Still, she half expected him to ghost her.
He didn’t.
I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart.
You study space, right?
He remembered. All those months ago, and he remembered a tiny detail like her minor. If only the warmth bubbling up in her chest would travel to her toes.
Yeah. Astronomy.
Her eyes roamed over the constellations, and she tried to summon patience while he typed a response.
Then I have one question for you.
Does the world rotate in a specific direction for a reason? Or is it a coincidence?
Her fingers tapped across the keypad with a rush of excitement. Finally, something she could help with. He could’ve easily looked it up for himself, but she was proud to supply the answer. One less thing he had to search for.
The Earth spins counter-clockwise, like most planets in our solar system. When the planet was forming, clouds and dust collapsed on themselves and caused it to spin in that direction.
It could’ve gone the other way, but there is a definite reason for it. Everything has an answer, though I think some are more important than others :)
Damn, you knew that off the top of your head?
I’ve looked up random facts about outer space for years. It’s not that impressive lol.
She bit her lip, feeling more Ivy League than she really was. His next response caught her off-guard and reminded her of who he was.
Don’t sell yourself short. Remember what I said about your words?
…that my words carry more weight than I think.
Yes. You said precisely what I needed to hear, and no search engine could’ve done that.
:)
A lot of things made her smile about his message, but most of all, it was the emoji at the end. He sent it separately, like he’d taken time to think about it and knew she’d like to see it.
I’ll let you sleep now.
In truth, it was getting too late to be out, but she hadn’t wanted to start walking back until their conversation ended.
It’s okay. I’m actually not at the dorms…although it’s freezing outside, and I should head back soon.
Are you okay? Do you need a ride?
No, I’m fine. I can walk—seriously, this time I’m not far away.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She sat up and brushed herself off before reading his next message.
Please be safe. Call if you need anything.
Yes, sir :)
Good girl. Let me know when you get home.
She sighed, her breath swirling in front of her face. As always, her dark knight extended his protection. Maybe one day, she’d take him up on it.
Between him and the stars—that’s where she wanted to stay.
But her body had other plans, and she really wouldn’t want to explain to him why she had frostbite next week. So, she tucked her phone back into her pocket, pulled on her gloves, and started her precarious descent.
In retrospect, this had possibly been one of the most dangerous places to hang out in the dark when no one knew where she was, but as she jumped down from the ladder, she knew she’d gotten what she came for.
A glimpse of her true self.