Chapter Eighteen
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When I open my eyes, all I see is pitch-black sky.
The last thing I can remember is kissing Hunter at the bonfire, letting him press me up against a tree. Pain shoots through me, my vision blurring. Did he finally try to get rid of me?
“C’mon, get up,” a voice beside me pleads.
I groan, attempting to rub my eyes, but my body’s too stiff to budge, frozen in place by a strange, unfamiliar type of ache and the sting of the cold. Nothing wants to move at first—my hands, my legs, my eyes. Slowly, the rest of the world starts to come into view. Everything is dark, but there’s enough light from a nearby streetlamp to make out some details. Glossy rosebushes and a stone bell tower. Gargoyles leering at me from the edges of familiar buildings. Claudia, panicking as she rubs my fingers between her gloved hands.
Her eyes light up when they meet mine, her hands stilling to cup my cheeks. “Hey—you okay?”
I want to reply—tell her no and ask her how the hell I wound up here—but any attempt at a response is swallowed by the ache in my throat. Claudia’s able to interpret my groan as a cry for help and wraps her arm around my shoulders. Together we’re able to hoist me up into a sitting position, my body sagging heavily against the wood of what I’m realizing now is a bench.
“Here.” Claudia pulls a bottle of Gatorade out of her bag. “Drink as much as you can.”
While I take a few tentative sips, Claudia unwraps the thick wool scarf around her neck and drapes it over my shoulders. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here, but I’m grateful she was able to find me before the frost could settle in. It wouldn’t have taken long for things to go south.
Every few seconds Claudia glances over her shoulder. I’m not sure what she’s looking for in the darkness surrounding us, but whatever it is keeps her on edge. “C’mon,” she urges once I’ve downed half the bottle. “We have to get back to Kincaid. Now.”
I’m not sure I can, but I nod anyway. Staying out here will land me in the emergency room at best, the morgue at worst, and most of the nearby buildings must be locked for the night. Claudia loops her arm around me and helps me stagger to my feet. We don’t say anything as we trek across campus, me leaning heavily against her for support. It’d be comforting—the overwhelming smell of apricots and Earl Grey tea—if I weren’t aching and heaving for breath with each step. Fighting for balance and control of my stomach as the world continues to spin, everything slightly off its axis.
Halfway through the journey, I wonder if I’ll be able to make it back. Claudia senses the strain and stops for us to rest on another bench. She waits until I’ve caught my breath and taken a few more sips of Gatorade before helping me back up, shouldering most of the burden the rest of the way.
By the time we make it back to our room, I’m ready to collapse into bed, but Claudia has other plans. According to the alarm clock on my nightstand, it’s just past one in the morning.
“How’re you feeling?” Claudia asks as she helps me out of my soaking wet socks and boots.
I grunt in reply, resisting the urge to look at myself in the mirror. “Not great.”
“Do you remember what happened?” She takes a cloth from her nightstand and dabs it along my forehead. I swallow hard when it comes back wet with blood.
I shake my head, trying to sort through the pieces of what I can remember. The roar of the fire. Hunter. Poppy. The pink strip on Hunter’s tongue and the taste of it on my mine. The rest is still a blur.
“What were you doing out this late?” I ask while she dabs the cut.
She focuses on cleaning the wound, easing the pressure when I wince. “Rehearsal. I was walking back when I saw you on the bench.” Practice past midnight sounds inhumane, but guess I can’t complain when it saved my life.
Her expression is somber, almost tearful as she finishes cleaning the cut. “Security was on their way. If they found you, they would’ve …” She trails off, unable to choke out the words.
“Expelled me?” I finish for her. Hunter and Poppy may feel comfortable popping pills in the cafeteria, but there’s no world where someone like Solina—who hardly belongs here at all—doesn’t get sent packing for something like this.
She nods, tossing the cloth into the hamper and handing me a fresh pair of pajamas from my dresser. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispers, looking as though she’s going to say more but decides against it.
There are hundreds of things I could say. Thank you , for saving me. Are you okay, to ease the worry in her eyes. Come closer, because I want to cling to that smell on her collar again.
“Me too,” I whisper instead, because it’s the only thing I trust myself to say.
Our hands meet as I take the pajamas from her, a spark pricking my skin enough to make me jump, but neither of us pulls away. The room finally stops spinning when I meet those bright brown eyes. Her pupils widen, twitching slightly as if she’s looking for something in mine—answers to a question she hasn’t asked yet.
I have more control over my body, but not my thoughts. Especially not with her, where just looking at her makes me feel off-balance.
“I’m glad I have you.”
The words come out so quiet I’m not even sure I actually said them out loud. For once I’m grateful for the shitty lighting, hiding the color spreading through my cheeks. I can regret it all I want, but at least it’s the truth. I am glad I have her—someone who doesn’t look at me like I’m competition, or worse, prey. Who, when I look close enough, I can see the best and worst parts of my sister in. Brilliance and light. Exhaustion and fear.
Someone who doesn’t make me feel afraid.
The only sign that she might’ve heard me is the subtle part of her lips and the barely-there hitch of her breath. I’m not sure if it’s my brain or the radiator or us, but the heat that builds in the space between me and Claudia feels as sweltering as a sauna. I struggle to get enough breath, feeling a strange tightness in my chest as I look at her for what feels like hours, days, months.
And like the flip of a switch, it’s over. She whips around and it’s like the power went out. All the light and warmth of the room gone the second she’s not beside me.
“Try to get some sleep,” she says.
Without looking back, she crosses the room to turn off the lights. Leaving me in the dark.