15. Polaris
15
POLARIS
I don't know how I made it through the rest of the day, but somehow, I managed to pick myself up off the ground, walk myself back to the main academy building, and participate in the rest of the day’s lessons.
Nobody said a word.
Not one.
I didn't even get a side look from anyone, even with my gray jacket still stained orange. It felt anticlimactic. I was expecting snickers and finger-pointing, but nothing came. More than that, no one really looked at me at all, as if it was a rule to ignore me, and as much as I appreciated the lack of incessant bullying, the itch that I had done something even worse clawed at me.
Bryony remained at my side, as silent as everyone else had been, but as I stole a deep breath and re-entered the dining hall for dinner, I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.
“Am I imagining the drama I endured at lunch?” I ask as we take our seats, only this time, we’re at the far end of the table, as far away from the drama-seeking vampires as I can get. The wince on Bryony’s face confirms I didn’t make it all up, but it still doesn’t ease the pit in my stomach. When she doesn’t look at me, I push, knowing there’s more I’m unaware of. “Bryony, please, you’ve got to help me out. I’m drenched in orange stains, I fled this damn room like my life depended on it, and no one—and I mean no one —has batted an eyelid at me since. Not a vampire. Not a wolf. Not a witch or a human. It’s like it didn’t happen, but I’ve still got the stains and the tension headache that proves I’m not making it up. What am I missing?”
My chest heaves with every breath, my eyes wide as I plead for her to help me out.
She looks at me from the corner of her eye first, the sigh parting her lips loud in my ears before she turns to look at me. She inches closer, and I do the same, my heart thundering as I wait to hear the secret she seems hesitant to share, but before she speaks, she glances around the room, making sure she can’t be heard before she zones in on me again.
“You didn’t hear this from me,” she starts, and I shake my head profusely, even though I don’t understand why it matters. Her tongue runs over her lip, her eyes casting over the room again before she leans in even closer. “The Alpha Pack wasn’t too happy about Blaze’s little stunt. I hadn’t even realized you had escaped until they took over the room.”
“Took over the room?” I repeat, eyebrows gathering in confusion, and she nods.
“One on each of the tables. They were furious.”
One on each of the tables? Furious? I don’t understand.
“They marched along the wood, barking out orders, making everyone swear to keep their mouths shut and heads down. If anyone is seen making fun of you or even looking at the mess on your jacket, then they would tear their fucking heads off.”
I lean back, disbelief swirling in my mind. “That seems a bit dramatic.”
“That’s the Alpha Pack,” she states with a shrug, as if it explains everything, yet I feel no wiser.
“Why would they do that?” I ask as she starts to choose her dinner, but I can’t bring myself to reach for a plate with my mind still struggling to process all of this new information.
“Why does the Alpha Pack do anything? They’re insane. Some might call them savage, but sticking up for a witch isn’t usually on their agenda. You should be honored,” she says with a wink, and my eyes flare wide in shock.
Honored? I feel anything but.
I don’t say that, though, dipping my chin to my chest as I take an easing breath before forcing myself to look at the food options. Reaching for a burger and fries, I also grab a bottle of water, refusing to go anywhere near the drink machine.
Bryony falls into a comfortable silence, eating her pizza while I nibble at my fries. The deliciousness is wasted on me as I drown my thoughts, overanalyzing every moment. More than anything, I’m acutely aware that I don't deserve her positivity and support, just as I didn't deserve S’s back at Florentine’s.
I'm lost in my head as I devour the burger, not really tasting it as I chew on autopilot. I’m ready to be done in here, head back to my room, and hide away for the rest of the night when a shadow casts over us from across the table.
He curls his hands over the back of a chair, not bothering to take a seat as his gaze settles on Bryony. “Are you guys coming to the wolf party tonight?” he asks, offering me a side glance, but it doesn’t last long before his attention quickly shifts back to Bryony. He stares her down, and there’s a sparkle in her eyes as she preens in her seat.
“Tonight?” she asks, cocking her brow at him, and he shrugs.
“The wolves don't care if it's a school night. We only need an hour’s sleep to survive. Besides, it's a full moon, so the party won’t run too late,” he explains, leaning closer.
Instead of answering him, Bryony turns my way. “What do you say?”
I gape at her, my cheeks heating under her watchful stare as the guy observes us. Clearing my throat, I look down at my lap. “I’ve never been to a party before,” I admit, and her eyes widen, her jaw falling slack as she nods.
“We should go,” she says, returning her attention to the guy. “I’ll be there. We’ll be there,” she insists, not waiting for my answer. But the guy seems happy with that, and he's gone in the next moment.
Nerves claw at me, threatening to manifest themselves in the form of a panic attack as I shake my head. “I don't think it's a good idea for me to go. I don't need to draw any more attention to myself,” I insist, and she scoffs, waving a hand at me dismissively.
“You won't draw any attention. It's perfect.”
I give her a skeptical look this time, pointing at my hair. “Have you seen the color of this? I stick out like a sore thumb. Blaze said it himself, and as much as some Alpha pack or whoever they are might have said something, I can’t imagine a world in which that man gives a shit about what someone else has to say,” I admit, hating the color of my hair now more than ever. All it seems to do is encourage painting a target on my head. For what? I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I don’t want to make things worse.
“Girl, just say the word, and we can dye it,” she offers, and my eyebrows furrow.
“Dye it?”
“Yeah. What color do you want?”
I gulp, staring at her with wide eyes as I struggle to comprehend what she's offering. I really need to catch myself up to speed with this place, figure out the finer details on how it works because all I seem to be doing is drowning in every damn word that comes out of anybody's mouth.
“I don't know,” I finally admit with a sheepish shrug. “I never thought it was a possibility.”
She tucks a loose tendril that’s fallen free from her braid behind her ear as she beams at me. “I love dyeing my hair,” she states, and I shake my head in disbelief.
“You're not naturally blonde?” I ask, and she scoffs again.
“Heck, no. So what do you say? Want to try?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, at a complete loss of what to do. When it’s clear she won’t stop staring at me expectantly, I finally scramble for an answer. “Can I say yes to the hair without committing to the party?”
“You can try,” she retorts with a smirk, and I know I'm not going to be able to talk my way out of it, but the idea of changing this beacon on my head is too alluring for me not to give it a chance.
Despite the barrage of emotions in my gut, I nod.
“Lead the way.”
The girl staring back at me in the mirror is someone I have never seen before. The blue of my eyes somehow stands out more prominently now with a darker color framing my face, and I'm torn.
I feel a little excited, more than I care to admit, but I don't feel like my old self at all.
Along with my black hair that falls in loose waves around my face, I've learned everything I think there is to know about Bryony as she sprinkles me with her expertise.
She has three siblings, two older and one younger. The two older siblings both survived the blood curse, which makes her nervous, but she’s a badass nonetheless. What she learned about me in return is…nothing. I have nothing to offer except the tendrils of darkness that Florentine’s infused within me.
I've barely been here a whole day, and the trauma that threatens to rear its ugly head now that I’m out of the bubble is enough to floor me. It takes all of my strength to tamp it down.
Running my fingers through my hair, I look at my face. Maybe it's the mascara she put on my lashes that make my eyes pop more, or the blush on my cheeks, or the bronzer or highlighter. She used so much stuff that I don’t think I look like the same person anymore.
Either way, I feel empowered tonight. I feel stronger than I've ever felt before. I don't feel weak, I don't feel panicked, I just feel…new.
A new me for a new place.
Is that possible?
It's not like anybody from Florentines is desperate to cling to the version of me that I was. Even if tonight is the only night I'll ever get to experience the freeing feeling it offers, it’s better than to have never experienced it at all. Right?
“Girl, I've got the perfect outfit for you,” Bryony states, running her hands over my new clothes hanging in the armoire beside me. She pins them against my chest, rifling through a few shirts before she settles on her decision. “Get ready here. I’ll turn my back in the corner,” she insists, giving me no room to decline, and there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to.
Sighing, I eye the clothes in my hands and focus on the fact that I’m going to attend my first party. I’m slightly worried about who else might be there, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, I want to prolong this fuzzy, exciting feeling inside of me.
I slip into the denim jeans that fasten high up my waist, change out of my tee for a cropped silk top, and step into the black boots I was issued.
Staring at myself, a twinge of a smile curls at the corner of my lip, and no matter how hard I try to drop it, it only grows stronger. Instead of letting myself get too carried away with these changes, I clear my throat, looking at the back of Bryony’s head as she stands in the corner, just like she said she would.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Are you getting changed?” she retorts, and I smirk.
“I’m done.”
She whips around, clapping her hands together excitedly as she beams at me. “Looking as hot as you do, you can ask me anything.”
I roll my eyes at her, pretending I didn’t hear the compliment as I step away from the mirror. “The Alpha Pack you mentioned before, who are they?” She mushes her lips together, biting back a smile as she taps the side of her nose. “You have to tell me,” I insist when it’s clear she’s not going to say a word.
“Please, it’s amusing to watch.”
“What’s amusing to watch?”
“Them protecting someone, and that someone having no idea. Especially when you’re not a wolf.”
I pout at her, planting my hands on my hips, hoping like hell I’m conveying a badass vibe like I want. “You’re talking nonsense. If you don’t tell me, someone will.”
“Sure, good luck with that,” she teases before she sweeps her hands over her body, muttering soft words under her breath, and I watch in complete awe as her clothes change.
Gone are the joggers and tee, and in their place is a tank top tucked into a mini skirt. Sandals now crisscross over her feet and a delicate anklet has settled itself on her right leg.
“What was that?” I finally manage when I find my tongue again, and she grins.
“When you figure out your magic, you'll notice you'll be able to do that and a lot more. It's my favorite part about magic. So much of my time is no longer wasted on mundane things. It’s fun.”
“Why didn’t you use that on me?” I ask, bewildered at the amount of time we just spent putting me back together again.
“Because I love the process of hair and makeup. Besides, it’s your first time. You deserved the real experience. Don't take that away from me.”
I roll my eyes at her sass, and she gives me a pointed look. “Now, are you ready or not?”
“If I said not?” I retort, and she scoffs.
“Then I’d pretend I didn't hear you because…what have you got to lose, Polaris?” she asks, and I freeze in place, letting her words drift over me before I exhale slowly, the sensation somehow calming a little of my tension.
“Nothing. I have nothing to lose.”