26. Polaris
26
POLARIS
S econds turn into minutes, which morph into hours before my eyes as I focus on nothing and everything all at once. The sun sets, casting a quaint array of colors across the sky before the shadows really creep in.
It’s funny how my heart slows as the moon rises and the murkiness of the night seeps in. If I were normal, I would have headed into one of the communal areas on campus, seeking strength in numbers from those around me, but I can’t seem to lift my head.
I’m perfectly nestled in what I have now claimed as my spot. The hedge is a few inches above my head, shielding me from view while also providing an extra layer of warmth as the temperature slowly drops.
The only thing keeping me warm right now are the emotions weighing heavy in my veins. The anger has subsided, an all too familiar sense of numbness ridding the rage from my bones as I focus on the one thing that stands out to me: survival.
I would rather place all bets on myself than a group of people who overlooked my response to their actions. There is no strength in that, no safety like I hoped and they had promised. I don’t remember my family; no matter how hard I try, it’s impossible. However, my gut tells me that what this coven was trying to offer isn’t what a family is about.
If it is, I want nothing to do with it. Count me out. I’ll take this road solo. I know I can count on myself and that’s all that matters.
Twirling my coin between my fingers, I hold it up to the muted light, embracing the comfort it always offers.
In the time I’ve been hiding here, contemplating my life, my next move, and my potential future, the main thing I have settled on is the fact that I want to be here. I want to advance and grow and be the best version of myself possible. Trinity Falls Academy is going to offer me everything I want, and things I don’t, and I’m willing to embrace it all, positive or negative.
If I have to walk these halls every day as a witch without a coven, then so be it.
If I have to shuffle through campus with my head dipped to avoid any further drama from the vampires, or Blaze, more precisely, then I will.
If I have to see the hot wolves every day without ever doing anything about it, count me in.
Florentine’s may have crippled me in comparison to most students here, but I can’t let that same suffocating feeling follow me to Trinity Falls Academy as well.
A twig snaps, popping my peaceful bubble as goosebumps skim over my skin. Adrenaline floods my veins, my entire body on high alert as I strain my ears, waiting to hear another sound. I don’t move, though. Not an inch. Fear locks me in place like it’s a chain around my ankles and wrists, binding me to the earth beneath me.
My panic is in overdrive, making my breaths wheeze as the thumping of boots hitting the ground causes the earth beneath me to rumble. A shadow casts over where I lay, my next breath lodging in my throat as I watch a figure drop to the ground, ignoring my existence as they sigh.
Too scared to move or breathe, I watch, completely captivated by the man looming only a few feet away. He leans back in the opposite corner of the hedges, head tilted back as he squeezes the bridge of his nose. His free hand curls around something in his lap, and when he slumps farther into the corner, knees bent as he drops his hand from his face, I realize who it is.
I’ve been caught in this little maze on one other occasion in the short time I’ve been here, and it’s just my luck that it’s the same guy both times. His dark hair is pulled back off his face and coiled into a messy knot at the back of his head, but I find myself wondering what the cropped hairs along the sides would feel like under my fingertips.
I roll my eyes at myself, irritated with my train of thought the second my bubble pops, wavering my resolve.
One: I’m alone in the dark with a man I don’t know. That’s not safe. Far from it.
Two: the second I see one of the hot wolves, who I swore off mere minutes ago, has me questioning the most ridiculous things.
Three: I should be focusing on how I’m supposed to get myself out of this damn situation.
Running my tongue over my bottom lip, worry burns in my throat as I watch him.
He has no idea I’m here.
He hasn’t lifted his gaze from his lap, staring at something, but his eyes don’t seem focused. Although, that could just be the shadows of the night playing tricks on me.
The scraping of paper jolts me, and I swiftly realize it’s some kind of pad in his grasp, a pencil too. He hums gently, the sound almost swept away by the gentle breeze, but I hear it. There’s something about it. It’s light, airy, and…familiar? No, definitely not. I wouldn’t have heard anything quite so charming at Florentine’s.
Shaking my head, I focus on my predicament instead of a sweet tune that isn’t going to help me survive.
He doesn’t look like he’s going to leave anytime soon, and as much as I could lie here forever, I don’t think it’s the best idea. Not when he could react badly. He seems calm enough now, and he didn’t try to cause me any harm the last time I was here, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe this time too…does it?
Before I can think of a better plan, I clear my throat. It’s soft, almost nonexistent, but the reaction that erupts from the man before me is electric.
He launches to his feet, his pen and pad clattering to the ground as his fists coil at his sides and his eyes shine bright in the darkness. They zone in on me without a moment’s pause as his chest heaves, watching my every move, or lack thereof, as I remain rooted to the spot.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump,” I breathe, pressing my back further into the grass beneath me, trying to make myself appear as small as possible.
“Jump? I almost shifted into the afterlife,” he blurts, staring down at me with wide eyes that soften just an inch. It’s only when I note his hands relax that I know I’m safe, or hope I am, at least.
“That’s…graphic?” I murmur, feeling my cheeks heat when I realize what I said, but he shrugs, relaxing a little more as his eyes dim.
“That’s me.”
He rolls his shoulders back, easing a little tension from his limbs before he drops back into the corner.
Pressing my lips together, I press my palms into the ground and sit up to lean back against the hedge behind me. I bend my legs, wrapping my arms around them nervously as I stare across the distance, waiting for…something, anything.
“I’m Polaris,” I mutter, trying to soften the fact that I seem to be intruding on him even though I was here first.
His eyes meet mine, the corner of his mouth tilting up just an inch. “They missed a trick by not calling you Silver with the hair.”
A soft smile lingers on my lips, a response I have no control over. “Yeah, it’s a shame I don’t know who they are,” I grumble, dropping my gaze as irritation claws through me.
Why did I say that?
“I’m Tatum, and I’m familiar with that,” he states, drawing my attention back to him, but he’s not looking at me; he’s scratching away in his pad.
“With what?” I push, desperate for more.
“No parents.”
“Florentine’s?” I ask, positive I’ve never seen him before coming here, and he shakes his head.
“No.”
Silence seeps into the little bubble that wraps around the both of us, but there’s a burning desire deep in my gut that’s desperate to know more. What the more is, I’m not sure, but I’m eager to find out.
“What are you doing?”
“Drawing,” he mumbles, not lifting his gaze.
“Can I see?”
“No.” His answer comes sharp and fast, drawing a thick line in the grass between us.
I should take it as a hint, but instead, I take it as a hurdle I can leap over.
“You’re happy to share your pain but not your art?”
I really should have taken the hint. Instead, I’m likely going to be taking my last breath if I don’t shut the hell up.
“That’s accurate,” he replies, unfazed by my questions.
“That’s…my level of sad,” I admit, unwrapping my arms from around my knees as I cross my legs, getting more comfortable instead of leaving.
“There are levels to sad?” he asks, tearing his gaze from his pad to spy on me, and I shrug.
“It feels like it.”
He nods, like my answer is enough for him to understand, even when I’m not entirely making sense of it myself.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re outside so late?” he presses, putting the cap back on his pen as he gives me his full attention, and I shrug, nervously tucking a curl of hair behind my ear.
“I was in a panic, and before I realized it, I was here.” I press my lips together, trying to halt the flood of words threatening to break the dam they’re forming. He stares, eyes searching, but he doesn’t push, and the air that lingers makes it clear there’s more to be said. “I was taken to a coven initiation.”
Dammit.
I press my teeth into my tongue, willing myself to shut up, but the way he looks at me, attentive, understanding, and patient, I can’t stop the words from coming. “They…I…he…I didn’t like it.”
He nods, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “Did you complete the initiation?”
I shake my head. “They were…forceful.”
Is that the right word? I don’t know.
“Forceful? Are you hurt?” His eyebrows gather, concern dancing in his eyes as they shimmer with a little glow again.
“Oh, uh, no, I don’t think so, I just…I panicked.”
Shut up now, Polaris.
“Panicked?” he repeats, and I nod.
“Yeah. They didn’t listen to me when I said no or wanted them to stop or even when I asked for more information. All that mattered was what they wanted.”
The rock forms in my gut as visions threaten to consume my sight, reliving the moment again and again. I glance away from him. I have to; if I don’t, I’ll say more, and I’ve already said enough.
Embarrassed by my rambling, I rise to my feet, avoiding his stare as I clear my throat.
“I should go.”
“You don’t have to,” he rushes out, scrubbing his chin as I peer at him from the corner of my eye.
“I know. Technically, I was here first, but I feel like I’m imposing,” I admit, and he climbs to his feet too.
“You’re not,” he insists, just as my stomach grumbles. He tilts his head, assessing me. “You’re hungry. How long have you been out here?”
I wave him off. “I was, but then…I’ll figure it out.”
Gathering his pad and pen, he pulls a backpack from the other side of him, tucking them away before retrieving a small paper bag. He flicks open the top, aiming the opening in my direction, but I can’t see from where I’m standing.
“How about we share this and head back to our quads?” When I don’t immediately answer, he slips his hand inside to reveal a sandwich in his grasp. “Turkey and swiss?” He waves it teasingly, making it sound like it’s something I should be salivating over, and truthfully, I’m so hungry, I could eat the slop back at Floretine’s without complaint.
The smile on his face makes it even more impossible to say no, so I take a deep breath and eliminate some of the distance between us. Once I’m at arm’s length, he hands me the sandwich before retrieving another from the bag, crumpling the paper, and stuffing it in his backpack before tossing it over his shoulder.
He takes the first step, and I follow. He takes the first bite, and I follow.
We eat in silence, the deliciousness consuming my every thought as we step out of the trees and follow the winding path toward the dorms. I take the last bite of my new favorite sandwich as we meet the fork in the road that leads to each dorm.
“Thank you for this, and for letting me talk your ear off,” I murmur, stopping at the path to the witches.
I don’t want to go back there, not really, but it’s not like I have another choice.
“It’s all good,” he breathes, hiking his backpack higher up his shoulder before stepping onto the sand.
I gape at him in surprise, rushing after him. “You don’t have to walk me all the way,” I state, and he grimaces.
“I’m more concerned with what you might be walking into.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” I don’t think I’ll be walking into anything dangerous…will I?
“I thought that’s why you were avoiding coming back.” He looks from me to the witches’ building and back again as my cheeks warm with another bout of embarrassment.
“No, I just, it’s calm out there, and it feels…freeing,” I admit, and he hums.
“Freeing? Florentine’s, right?”
“Right,” I confirm, ducking my head when the heat in my cheeks feels like I will ignite into real flames.
“I’m sorry about that.”
My gaze darts right back to his. “Why would you be sorry?”
He shrugs, unable to give me an answer, but his words appease something inside me nonetheless.
As we reach the door, I twist the handle and peek through the gap. The living room is back to normal, and a few witches are lounging in the space. I exhale a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding before turning my attention back to him.
His eyes are raking over me, making sure I’m okay, and I smile before placing my hand on his arm. He looks down at it, a little skittish as he tenses, but he doesn’t step away.
“Thank you.”
I’m trying to show my appreciation, but the words just aren’t enough.
“I haven’t done anything,” he breathes, looking deep into my eyes.
“You did more than I can even begin to say,” I admit, the words still not doing him justice as I earn myself another soft smile on his full lips.
My body acts on its own accord as I eliminate the remaining distance between us, pushing up onto my tiptoes to press my lips against his cheek. It’s a ghost of a touch, but the way my heart pounds manically in my chest is undeniable.
Desperate not to push my luck, I take a step back, smiling at him, acutely aware that the heat on my face has nothing to do with embarrassment this time.
“Goodnight, Tatum.”
He lifts his hand to the exact spot my lips touched as he stares at me with a hint of wonder in his eyes.
“Goodnight, Polaris.”