23. Zair
Zair
The Witch Who Breaks the Rules
After soccer practice I immediately text Thea. She sends me a sarcastic response.
When I look up, Dylan and Benson are both watching me with matching, knowing smirks. “Stopping mid-sentence and then smiling at your phone?” Dylan teases, his grin wide. Was I saying something? “Who is this girl?”
“No one,” I say, trying to shrug it off. Though I can’t help but feel a little heat creeping up my neck.
“Is it that little witch you’ve been studying with?” Benson asks.
“The smart one with the braid?” Dylan adds with smirk.
“Really, guys?” I groan, rolling my eyes. But I can’t stop the smile that stretches across my face.
Thea texts to meet me for dinner. I rush through the shower and make my way to the dining hall.
My steps quicken as I think about seeing her.
Seriously, what is going on with me? I’ve never been this excited to see a girl.
Especially one I’m not even sleeping with.
When I get there, I spot her right away.
I try to clamp down on my smile. I think I fail.
We pile our plates with the usual mess hall fare, it’s mediocrity comforting. Then we head for an empty corner booth.
She slides into the seat across from me. “How was soccer?”
“It was good.” I know she doesn’t actually care, but she’s making an effort.
Benson drops into the seat next to me with a thud. His bulk pressing me into the back of the booth.
“Guess it was the little witch with the braid,” he announces. His grin is so smug I’m tempted to smack it off.
Dylan slides into the booth on the other side, wedging Thea firmly into my side. We’re jammed together now. Why did we choose a corner booth?
“Seriously, is your friend a bulldozer?” Thea asks, twisting slightly to create space that clearly doesn’t exist.
“You sure you want to sit that close, or are you testing my patience?” I try to shove Benson out the booth but he doesn’t budge, damn goblin strength.
“Aw, c’mon,” Benson says. “It’s a human sandwich. Who doesn’t love a human sandwich?”
Any hope of personal space vanishes when they both shove us again, sealing the sandwich with a final squish that leaves me practically a part of Thea.
My friends are jerks.
“Do all wolves think personal space is optional, or is it just you?” Thea asks Dylan before whispering to me, “Tickles or wet willies?”
“Wet willies, obviously.” And just like that, we’re on the offensive, jabbing, prodding and spit flying with the ferocity of a two-person army, tossing wet willies like we’ve been trained for it.
Benson and Dylan retreat so fast they both topple out of the booth, leaving Thea and me breathless and triumphant.
“Human sandwiches are usually more enjoyable,” Benson grumbles, dramatically wiping his ear like he’s been mortally wounded.
“If you’re not willing to get a little spit in your ear, why even show up?” Thea fires back, her grin smug and remorseless.
Benson climbs into the booth and gives Thea a stunned once-over. “Holy shit, those are some green eyes. They real?”
“Yup. Stole them from a pixie queen. Bitch cursed me with eternal beauty.” Thea’s smile turns wicked. “Could use some hair to match… would it be ironic to scalp a goblin with a goblin blade?”
I can see Benson torn between laughter and indignation. “So, you’ve got teeth.”
“I do. Want me to demonstrate on your arm or just your ego?” Thea quips, wiggling her eyebrows. Benson snorts begrudgingly.
“I can see why you like her company,” Dylan announces, sitting down beside Thea. “I was worried we’d lost you to a boring piece of ass.”
Thea gasps dramatically, clutching her chest. “Excuse me?” she exclaims. Her tone is high and scandalized as she looks at Dylan with wide, indignant eyes. “A piece of ass? How dare you?”
The table goes quiet. Did she take offense? Just as the tension begins to rise, she leans in with an impish smile.
“Let’s be clear, I’m a complete ass.”
There’s a beat of stunned silence, then we burst into laughter. Loud enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables.
“Alright, complete ass. You got a name?” Benson asks even though I know he already knows.
“Thea,” she replies with a smile. She rolls with it like a pro. And damn if I don’t like that more than I should.
“These idiots are Benson and Dylan,” I tell her. “My current teammates and soon-to-be ex-friends,”
“Is that like X-Men?” she asks, suppressing a smile. “No wait The Bulldozer, the Human Sandwich, and…” Her gaze lands on me and I know I’m in trouble. “You’re definitely Mr. Charming-on-Command.”
She grins. “Or Mr. COC, for short.”
“Mr. COC?” Dylan repeats, blinking like he’s not sure he heard right.
Benson snorts first, trying to hold it in then loses the battle. “Nope. That’s it. You’re done.”
Dylan breaks into a laugh, shaking his head.
“Mr. COC,” Benson mutters again, grinning. “I’m never calling you anything else.”
I groan, rubbing my face and trying not to smile. “You’re the worst, Thea.”
“Correction,” she says sweetly. “I’m accurate.”
“You know,” I say, pointing at her. “I am charming. No need to act like I’m some court jester.”
Benson’s grin is practically splitting his face in two. “Are not, you hate everyone and just pretend to be Mr. Charming. Nah, I think Mr. COC suits you better.”
“Well, I certainly hate all of you now,” I mutter, sinking lower in the booth, but even I can’t help but laugh a little. She gets under my skin like no one else. “You are so dead.”
“Afraid you’ll have to get in line,” she says with a big smile.
“Of course there’s a line.”
Something close to panic flashes across her face, and without even checking I can feel her soul react in discomfort.
It looks better each day. Still frayed in places, but slowly stitching itself together.
She quickly shakes it off, rubbing at her wrist. She buries whatever panic that was and slips right back into teasing us.
I’m curious about what unnerved her, but I know she wouldn’t tell me if I asked, so I push it aside and add it to my mental list of things not to talk about: kiwi (fruit or bird?), that song from the shoe commercial last week, Professor Sinclair, the scar on her eyebrow and whatever’s going on with the not-a-bracelet on her wrist.
We spend the rest of dinner in a haze of laughter and playful jabs.
At some point, we all eat our food. The boys don’t let up on us.
Their teasing light but constant, with mentions of interrupted soccer practices and my sudden disappearance each night from the face of the earth.
But Thea is more than a match for both of them.
Soon they’re the ones apologizing to her for keeping me busy with soccer.
Thea and Benson’s sarcasm is cut from the same cloth.
I’m pretty sure they could talk for hours without saying a single serious thing.
And Dylan, he’s putty in her capable hands. Werewolf women aren’t like her.
“Well,” Thea says, shoving Dylan out of the way so she can get up. “I guess I should head to my room. The world’s probably not ready for us to take over just yet. Also, why is combat magic at five?”
I chuckle. “I think the world’s already had enough of us tonight. Come on, I’ll walk you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m not exactly a damsel in distress.”
No, she isn’t.
“Yeah, but it’s a long walk, and I figure you could use the company.”
She laughs softly. “Lead the way, Mr. Charming.”
“Hey, don’t let her get away, man,” Dylan teases with a wide grin.
“Hope you stick around, you make him almost tolerable,” Benson adds with a roguish wink at Thea.
I roll my eyes and throw them a casual one fingered wave as we step toward the door. “Goodnight, guys.”
“Yeah, yeah, see ya, Zair,” Dylan calls out. “Enjoy the walk with Ms. Complete Ass.”
Thea shoots him a playful glare, then turns to me with a smile.
“I like them. But I think they’re a bit too quiet.
Definitely too serious.” We share a quiet chuckle before stepping out into the cool night air.
We walk side by side, the conversation flows naturally, easy. Like it always does between us.
We reach her dorm, and Thea pauses at the door and turns to face me.
“Thanks, Mr. COC. I needed the distraction tonight.” Her words have a playful edge to them.
“No problem. Happy to serve as your personal distraction.”
“I guess I’ll have to handle the rest of my night without you.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive,” I tell her playfully. “But if you need another distraction, you know where to find me.”
She gives a quiet laugh, and it changes the air. Everything else fades into the background. There’s a pause, thick and full of things neither of us says. I take a step forward, raise my hand, and brush her hair from her face. She doesn’t move away. Her eyes hold mine.
This is it. No more pretending. I cup her cheek and lean in, eyes starting to close—
“I was joking!” she practically shouts, jumping back. “It wasn’t an offer.”
“Wait. No. That’s not what I thought,” I try to explain. “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh—” She blinks, like I’ve just spoken in another language.
“I like you,” I tell her. “A lot. That wasn’t me thinking you were offering some throwaway distraction.”
“I see,” she says, like she doesn’t.
“It was real. That kiss — it was real.” I take a breath, ready to try again.
Screw my pride. I need her to know what this is to me.
She makes me want to toss all my rules out the window.
No. I’ve already tossed them. Every last one.
I’d proudly walk through campus holding her hand, eating my words every time someone reminds me I don’t date witches. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
“I—I didn’t realize you felt that way,” she says, her confusion evident. What the hell happened to this girl that she can’t recognize when someone’s falling for her? I’m not exactly being subtle. “I’m sorry. I have someone.”
Well shit, I just laid it all out there.
“Yeah,” I say, voice a little hoarse. “No hard feelings. I get it.”
She looks at me for a second, something flickering in her expression guilt, maybe? It passes quickly.
“I really thought—” she starts, but I can’t bear to hear it.
“I get it. We’re good, Thea.”
She nods slowly, “Goodbye, Zair,” she says with depressing finality.
“No — Thea,” I try to call after her, but she’s already gone.
She can’t honestly think I wouldn’t want to be her friend because she rejected me.
Yeah, it stings, and my pride’s going to need some time to recover, but I don’t remember ever feeling this way about a girl.
I’m not just pulled into her orbit. I’m caught. Willingly.
Does she genuinely not see that?
None of this has been real to her. She probably thought I was just moving her hair, just a casual touch, like I don’t think about kissing her every time we’re this close.
She said she has someone, but doesn’t she know what it looks like when someone’s about to kiss you?
Witches aren’t exactly known for their purity, and judging by her takedowns, I doubt she is either.
And who the hell is this guy she’s with? The one she talked about at the diner? He’s the one who ‘taught her about love,’ but she can’t even tell when someone wants her for nothing but her?
I walk to my dorm room, still trying to figure out how to fix this.
The only answer I can come up with is to be her friend. Just her friend. Show her I’m not going anywhere. Because if I can’t be the one, I still want to be someone.