Chapter 13
Droplets of water are still sliding down my bare shoulder as I walk to my room. The hot water didn’t last as long as I wanted. Max probably used it all when she came home from class. At least I had time to wash my hair.
A fluffy burgundy towel hangs over my head, covering my face. I need to dry and detangle my curls. And put on some real clothes, quickly. My shift at the pizzeria starts in an hour. I still have to make it to the bus stop.
Fortunately, I know this apartment like my favorite song. I don’t need to see to—
“Shit!”
My foot catches on something in the doorway to my bedroom. I yelp, stumbling forward. The mattress catches me before I sprain an ankle. I bounce, then flip over. Panic burns in my throat. What if I just kicked Diana?
Ripping the towel away, I sit up. Look around. Morning light burns bright in the room. Relief eases my pulse when I find Diana lounging, unharmed, on my pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Something else tripped me.
I see it. On the floor near the door. Wrinkled and navy and breath-stealing.
London’s UCSB hoodie.
Guilt hits me so hard, so mercilessly, I almost fall off my bed.
How could I forget so easily? I went to the underworld for a reason last night. Not dancing at a masquerade ball. Or kissing a boy against a garden wall.
I went to get more information out of the Deathless. Sweet-talk Aminta and Milos. Get closer to Cary…for London. He’s still somewhere in Aides and I was supposed to be focused on finding him.
How could I let one Deathless—one silly kiss change that?
Swearing, I hide my face in my hands. In my head, I count backward from ten. I swallow down a scream. I do every trick I can think of before a panic attack comes. Before I give up.
There’s still time, I try to remind myself. Even if I’m not sure that’s true.
After a few deep breaths, I refocus. I’m not going to let this eat at my insides, gnaw on my bones. All I need is a better plan. To get back to Aides.
I can’t let anything else get in the way.
“The next time I say I’m signing up for a History of Western Civilization course,” Max says, groaning dramatically, “throw me in the ocean. Burn all my cute cardigans. Hide every drop of caffeine in our apartment!”
I look up at the blue sky. “You could’ve majored in something else.”
“Like what?”
My eyebrows wiggle wickedly. “Psychology.”
Max smacks my arm. “No one asked you.”
We’re at Shoreline Park. On one of the wide lawns. I lie on my back in the grass, hands tucked behind my head. Late morning sun warms my face. Max sits on a blanket with a thick textbook in her lap, her coffee cup nearby.
Other students are scattered around us. They work on their laptops, scroll through their phones. The wind carries delighted screams from a children’s playground not far away. Dogs pull their owners along the walking path toward the harbor. Tourists snap cliffside photos of the area.
Brine and seaweed scent the early October air. I hold it in my lungs. Breathe out every thought about how different it is from Aides. Or how it’s been a week since I was last there. How I’ve been impatiently waiting for Cary to come back.
And he hasn’t. What if he never does?
Max slams her book shut. “I knew I should’ve signed up for that Witchcraft, Science, and Religion course.”
“You would’ve hated it too,” I comment.
“Not as much as this.” She checks her phone, then sighs. “My shift starts soon.”
“Weekend tips are the best tips,” I remind her.
She downs her coffee in one gulp. “Like you’d know. How did you get a Saturday off anyway?”
I’m not sure. I didn’t even realize I had the day off until Junie mentioned it last night while we locked up. A fog sits on the fringes of my brain. I can see all the most important parts of my life clearly. But small details hide beneath a cloud.
Almost…invisible.
I shrug at Max. “Luck, I guess?”
She snorts. “With you? Highly unlikely.”
“Whatever. I bet you’re not like this with—” It takes a second before a name comes to me. “Lake.” It feels funny on my tongue.
Standing, Max slings her bag over one shoulder. She shakes out the blanket with a tiny frown. “We…didn’t work out.”
My jaw drops. “I’m sorry.”
It’s her turn to shrug. “I’m already over it.” The way her teeth pull on her lower lip says differently. But this is Max. Things never bother her for long.
She loops her hair into a messy bun. “What are you doing with the rest of your day?”
“I don’t know.”
Certainly not pacing around our apartment for the sixth straight day, hoping the ferrier of souls shows up so I can trick him into letting me see my dead boyfriend sits unsaid at the back of my throat.
Instead, I say, “Maybe go see my mom?”
She called again the other day. I feel bad. I haven’t visited her or my dad despite their efforts.
“Do you want a ride?” Max offers.
I shake my head, grass tickling the back of my neck. “I’ll take the bus.”
She gives me a look. We both know what it means. I’m still uneasy in cars. Public transportation is significantly safer. It’s a proven statistic.
“Fine,” Max relents. “Dinner, later?”
“Only if you’re paying. I’m still short on rent.”
“You’re a terrible roommate, Auggie.”
“But a great best friend,” I call as she walks away.
Max replies with a middle finger and a smirk over her shoulder.
I settle back into the grass, one arm thrown over my eyes. There aren’t many trees on the lawns. Most of them border the fenced-in cliffsides. Overhead, the shrieks of gulls echo. Cars cruise down Shoreline Drive.
But it feels like it’s just me in the world. Me and my intrusive thoughts.
I’m not alone for long. A shadow falls over me.
“Is this what you consider fun? Wow. I am disappointed.”
Surprise and something unruly thud in my chest at the sound of his voice.
I lower my arm. In the bright sun, all of Cary’s angles are softened. Light halos him. Gold against all the black he’s wearing. His mouth curves into a half smirk as I drink him in.
“You’re here,” I breathe.
He looks around as if he’s shocked himself. “Well, someone promised me this world could be…fun. I still have my doubts.”
My nose wrinkles. “I said humans could be fun. And I didn’t promise.”
He rolls his eyes. He’s wearing another Henley. The buttons are undone. I’m taunted by the flash of strong collarbones, his muscled chest. I avert my gaze to that one curly lock drooping over his forehead.
Cary’s eyebrows tilt up. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No.” I grin. “But just because you’re ageless doesn’t mean your memory is.”
A muted laugh wobbles in his throat. It’s a weird thing to get used to. Cary thinking I’m amusing. But it’s cute too, the way he tries to hide it with half-hearted scowls and straightening his shoulders.
My eyes drop away from his face to something in his left hand. “What’s that?”
“Oh.” That flicker of shyness I saw in his eyes after we kissed is back. His fingers tighten on a white paper bag. He looks between it and me. It’s as if he’s deciding something.
I sit up. “Is it for me?”
He nods.
Unexpected heat climbs up my neck. I’m not sure what to say, how to react. Cary got something. For me. I stand, dusting blades of grass off my shorts.
“What is it?” I ask curiously.
Cary passes me the bag. He pretends to be uninterested as I peel it open, but I can feel his eyes on me. In the corner of my vision, I see his smile when I pull out a cookie from the best bakery on State Street Promenade. In all of Santa Barbara, actually.
I gape at him.
He shrugs. “Sometimes, having a sweet tooth is not so bad.”
His face brightens while my cheeks burn even hotter remembering what I said to him at the pizzeria the first time I saw him.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he says. “It is not a big deal.”
But it is. Somehow, he picked out my favorite flavor—strawberry cheesecake. It’s pink and thick like two cookies smashed together. When I take a bite, the soft, chewy warmth makes me moan.
He clears his throat. “Everyone deserves something sweet.” The corners of his lips glide up. “Even annoying, stubborn bad dancers like you.”
A comeback crawls up my throat, but my mouth is too full of cookie to say anything. Instead, I glare at him. Though, it’s very unconvincing since I’m grinning too.
I can’t believe he did this. That he thought of me. Curiously, I want to know how he paid for the cookie. Do Deathless carry money? Did he steal it? But I’m too caught up in how pleased he looks as I finish in three more bites.
Swallowing, I say, “How can I prove humans are way funner than you think?”
He waves a hand around. “It is your world, August. You tell me.”
I pause, debating. When I came up with this idea, I hadn’t really considered how to entertain the ferrier of souls. What convincing him he’s wrong about us—about me—would look like.
Cary eyes me as if he can tell that I’m struggling.
I decide against overthinking. After all, I don’t know how long I have with him. I need every minute I have to win him over.
Find a way back to Aides.
“Come with me.”
Cary walks by my side, silently. It’s not as uncomfortable as it used to be. I’m starting to understand him better. I’d mistaken his quietness for coldness. But it’s not. He’s taking in every little detail, processing. Forming his own understanding.
I point out all the parts I love about Shoreline. The spindly trees I climbed as a kid. Every flower Mom would name for me: yellow Glebionis coronaria and blue-orange Strelitzia. Crown daisies and birds of paradise.
At the pastel blue telescope, I let him look through the eyepiece as I list off the things he sees: The coastline. Channel Islands. Whales breaking through the ocean’s glimmering surface.
He listens as I talk about the spot on the pavement where I skinned my knee bloody attempting to skateboard. The stretch of grass I’d lie in to trace the shapes of drifting clouds. So many small pieces of my world made bigger when laid out before me.
And for some odd reason, I want him to know about it all.
“This way.”
He laughs under his breath at the way I mimic him as he took me around Aides.