Chapter 30 #2
Lightning bolts of ungodly pleasure shoot through my limbs. I anchor my hands in his hair and cling to him as my body quakes and explodes.
“Yes,” I grind out. “Yes, Hayden, I’ll marry you again.”
Now it’s Hayden’s turn to shatter, making the most beautiful, agonized noises in the back of his throat. We hold each other through the aftershocks, kissing whatever skin we can reach.
“Did you mean it?” he breathes, sounding a little scared. “I get if it was in the heat of the moment…We don’t have to…”
“I meant it,” I whisper. “I do, Hayden. Want to marry you. Maybe not anytime soon, but I figured…”
“We have time now.” Hayden kisses my mouth.
“Lots and lots of time.” I kiss him back.
—
“I think I know what did it. What broke the curse,” Hayden says on the way to Delia’s.
The snow is soft and beautiful, crunching deliciously beneath our boots.
“You were able to take charge of your own fate when you knew about your reincarnations. Instead of me protecting you, you protected yourself. I…” He rubs the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth sooner. ”
“I forgive you,” I say. Hayden smiles, kisses my knuckle. “You sure you’re not gonna want to hang out for a second before you go?”
“Delia made it pretty clear. Girls’ night. Besides, I’ve got a birthday party to set up for.”
Delia’s new house is a small rental a couple blocks from the edge of north campus. Nothing fancy, but there’s a lot of space and a fenced-in front yard. The front door whips open as we approach.
“What do you think?” Delia bursts out, smiling from cheek to cheek. She dances out into the snow, scoops a perfect snowball, and launches it at Hayden. He catches it.
“It’s nice. The bursar give you any trouble?”
“Nah.” Delia takes my hand and spins me around. “They might think something’s wrong with you, though, Ro-Ro. When I said I was dropping out, she was like, ‘Rose Shields? Didn’t she have a roommate that dropped out earlier too?’ ”
“And did you disabuse her of the notion that I’m to blame?”
“Nah,” Delia says again, her grin turning mischievous. “I’m doing you a favor. Street cred, son.” She casts an eye at Hayden and makes a shooing motion. “Alright, bye-bye, Hay. See you later. Lots of things to do, big plans.”
“Love you,” Hayden says to me, then shoots a glare at Delia. “Nothing dangerous.”
“Hey,” I say. “What happened to me being in charge of my own fate and all that?”
“Yeah,” Delia teases. “Wouldn’t want to resurrect the curse, now, would we?”
“Jesus.” Hayden glowers and turns away. “Too soon, Dee. It’ll always be too soon.”
“He’s such a baby,” she mutters wryly, ushering me into the house.
Delia’s house is adorable, with tufted velvet armchairs and sofas and cardboard boxes all over the place.
“I’ve had all my stuff in storage,” she explains, nudging the stacks of boxes over to clear room to the kitchen.
“Wasn’t sure how long we were gonna be here.
Where we were going next.” Delia gives me a guilty look.
After you died is implied. “But now that I know we’re gonna be hanging here awhile, I’m actually able to set things up for once! ”
I tilt my head and smile, watching Delia traipse around the kitchen as she fetches a corkscrew and a fancy-looking bottle of malbec.
“Delia,” I say, “you look really happy.”
“Me? Do I?” Delia presses a hand to her cheek, feeling her smile. She smiles wider. “I think I’m just excited. I’ve never gotten to this point, you know? There’s never been, like, an after to this thing. Things are unknown again for the first time since I met Hayden.”
My heart squeezes. I sidle up to Delia and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens in surprise.
“Thank you,” I whisper urgently. “Thank you for helping him. For helping me. We would have been lost without you.”
“Oh.” She sounds confused. “Oh, Ro…C’mon.” Delia turns in my arms and hugs me back fiercely. “I wanted to,” she says. “I wanted to, okay?”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“You’re giving me way too much credit,” she admits, twisting the screw into the cork.
“Truth is, it wasn’t all selfless. In a way, it felt like…
” Delia pops the cork out, stares at it for a moment.
“It was like, if I could save you, it was like saving Nicolai. Like there was hope for me. Or something. I know, I know, that makes no sense. No logic to it. Then again, love’s not logical.
” She goes to the cabinets, but of course, they’re all empty.
Delia grunts. “Goddammit. No clue where the fucking wineglasses are.”
“Whatever.” I grab the bottle and take a swig. The rich, earthy taste of the malbec is just as good as I remember. “Ah. See? No glasses necessary.”
Delia gives me a long, amused look before sighing. “I’m gonna have to unpack these at some point. Until then, wanna watch something?”
“Sure,” I say. I shiver when we go to the living room. It’s surprisingly cold in here. “Um, not to be totally human right now, but…is the heater on?”
“Shit. Yeah, but it sucks.” Delia frowns. “I’ll grab you a blanket.” She opens the nearest box and starts digging through the contents. I chew my lip, watching her.
“I miss you, you know.”
“I’m right here, dummy.” She laughs softly.
I sit on the tufted couch and tuck my knees to my chest. “It’s not the same. I liked living with you. Late-night chats. Going to the dining hall together. You putting on my eye makeup.”
“I can still—” I silence her with a withering look.
Her mouth twitches and she twirls a long, silky strand of hair around her finger.
“Yeah, okay. Not the same.” Delia pauses.
“You’ve got Winston. And Hayden now. I’m sure you’ve kept each other up with several late-night chats, and…
” Her lovely brow notches in confusion when I shake my head solemnly.
“I love Hayden,” I say, “but I love you too. I have my whole future to spend with Hayden. It’s, like, only these few years I get to live with another girl.” I smile wryly. “Even if she is a vampire.”
“Huh.” Delia blinks at me, shaking her head. “I didn’t expect that.”
“What? You thought I was gonna just run off with Hayden? Forget about you? Live happily ever after?” I try not to let myself be hurt by that.
“Sorry. Yeah, kinda did.” Delia lets out a breath, rubbing her brow.
“Truth is, he always kind of does that. Runs away. Forgets his old pal Delia. I super get it, though. He usually only gets a year with you. I…” She looks off into the middle distance, thinking.
“Things are different this time, though. It’ll be different this time.
Right?” Delia looks at me, and something desperate clouds her eyes.
I stand up and take her hands in mine. “I promise,” I say.
Delia looks down at our hands. “Okay. Good. Great, even.” She steps back, laughing self-consciously. “I don’t think the fucking blankets are in here. I’m gonna comb through the kitchen.”
“I’ll check the bedroom.” I walk backward down the hall. “In the meantime, come up with three movies you wanna watch, and I’ll do the same. We’ll vote on it.”
“Yeah.” Delia blinks at me, thoughtful. “Yeah, okay, sounds great.”
I push open the bedroom door, flip on the light.
It’s cold in here, bare. Her bed’s not set up yet.
There’s just a pile of iron rods in the corner and a queen-size box spring and mattress pushed up against the wall.
I go to the window, look up at the night sky.
The thin sliver of moon makes the snow softer, the white less brittle.
A large snowy owl lands on the bare branch of a nearby tree. It watches me, steady and silent.
I hope Delia knows I mean it. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had, in this life, obviously, but if I had to guess, I’d say in all my other lives as well. I chew my lip as I pull open the first cardboard box. This one’s full of clothes. I shuffle through them, searching for blankets.
I hold up a cute teal sweatshirt. Marc Jacobs.
Huh. It’s so nice, feels expensive. I wonder if Delia would let me borrow it?
I drape it over my arm and keep digging through the clothes.
Maybe there’s a pile of blankets beneath the wardrobe stuff?
And if I come across other cute clothes on the way, well, so be it.
I pull out a thick peacoat, and something falls out of the pocket of the teal sweatshirt draped on my arm. Looks like Delia’s student ID. I stoop down and grab it. I’m about to call Delia when I see something impossible at the bottom of the cardboard box.
I freeze. Stop breathing.
No. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would Delia have this?
Feeling sick and clammy, I reach down and grab the AirPod case encrusted in minuscule taffy-pink jewels. I stare hard at the two bedazzled letters. RL.
Remy’s AirPod case. I take a deep breath, squeeze the ID in my hand, letting the hard edges dig into my palm. Then I get a look at the face in the picture.
This is not Delia’s student ID.
It belongs to an Amber Katz.
Red curls, pretty face, big smile. It takes me a second to place her. The girl from Autumn Fest. She got a tarot reading. The cards said someone would change her life that night. My belly lurches, the student ID slipping from my hands. I blink desperately at the AirPod case, heartbeat clamoring.
That’s when I notice a speck of blood on the bejeweled L.
“Ro? You okay?” Delia says from the doorway. “Felt your heart kick up a few notches, and I…”
I don’t turn around. I stare at the owl for a long moment, then try, as quietly and smoothly as possible, to fish my phone out of my pocket.
“You know I can see you doing that, right?” Delia deadpans. “Look at the owl again.”
I do. It lifts one leg from the branch, waves at me. I whirl around, and Delia’s right there, in my face. She wrinkles her nose. Her wide brown eyes are impossible to read.
“Sorry, Ro,” she whispers, and then I feel her flood into my brain, and everything goes black.