51. Thea
Thea
Running Out of Rational Options
It’s Friday and I’m still stuck in the spiral, disconnected from everything around me. I’ve been a terrible friend. I can’t even remember the last time I checked on Benson properly. He was cursed by Anita for being my friend, and now I’ve disappeared on him.
Mavrik’s been sleeping on the floor in my room. His shadows unwilling to let him leave as I lose myself.
And Zair…
He’s been trying so hard to be there for me. Every time I pull away, every time I make an excuse not to meet him or talk, I see the hurt in his eyes, even if he doesn’t say it. Maybe that’s the problem. I can’t keep doing this to him.
But the truth is I’m scared. Scared of how my heart races when he’s close, how I want to believe that maybe he’s the one.
I can no longer trust myself to judge. Because I want him to be Lazlo so badly, he can’t be.
If I believe it, it will only hurt worse when I’m wrong.
And yet he makes me feel safe in a way I don’t want to admit.
I’m supposed to be focused on finding Lazlo — the only person who’s ever mattered.
I kissed Mavrik and it felt so right. But he isn’t Lazlo, I’m sure of that now. He wouldn’t hurt me. He’d probably turn himself into a banshee to help me.
And Zair, it feels like I’m opening a door I shouldn’t. I wish he hadn’t slipped, hadn’t said how hard it was not to kiss me. I hate how hard it was for me too.
I could scream, but it wouldn’t change anything. I could fall apart, but it wouldn’t fix the mess I’ve made of my own expectations. I just want to hit something, anything, but instead, I take a slow, shaky breath and focus on not completely crumbling.
I’ve got to keep going, I tell myself. I have to. I can’t stop. But I need to stop lying to myself.
I have feelings for Zair. Real ones. But he’s not my mate. Lazlo is.
I need to find Lazlo. In this life.
And then…
I don’t know.
But what if Zair is what I want now?
What if the bond doesn’t matter, not the way I thought it did?
Maybe I’m not trying to find Lazlo.
Maybe I’m trying to prove he’s still the answer.
The frustration bubbles up inside me like a pot about to boil over.
I stand abruptly, pacing the length of the room, my fingers running through my hair as I think. Lazlo is out there. He’s my soulmate. My other half. Without him, I’m just… broken. I’m clinging to Mavrik and Zair and even Benson because I can’t find him.
The thought lands hard and it smells like a lie.
I look at the wall. Fifty-four tallies.
Only forty-two days left until they take Lazlo.
The possibilities swirl around me, and suddenly, a new plan starts to take shape. Maybe I need to adjust my plan for how to find him.
A desperate thought in the dark, and I grab it with both hands, pulling it into the light.
“What if I stop playing it safe? No more subtlety. No more tracking him in secret. What if I force the universe to listen, to make Lazlo find me?” I begin muttering to myself, the words spilling out before I can think them through.
“Post fliers. I could post fliers. Everywhere. In every alley, every corner, every library. Put it on T-shirts. ‘Looking for Lazarus. Banshee soulmate.’”
I stop, considering that for a moment. “That might be insane,” I say aloud, shaking my head. “But no one said finding your soulmate was supposed to be sane.”
It’s an irrational thought, but I’m desperate enough to entertain it. Maybe the absurdity of it is exactly what I need. It’s not like I have anything to lose. Except I’d probably scare him away.
“I could cry in public. You know, like really, really cry. Banshees can find their mate that way, right? I could stand in the middle of the street, just weep. Maybe I’ll get lucky.
Maybe he’ll hear me.” I pull at my hair, pacing again.
“God, it’s so crazy,” I mutter, stopping in front of the mirror.
My reflection stares back, a blur of exhaustion and despair.
I can’t keep wasting time, not when he’s out there.
I pull out my notebook, going over the list of all the witches in the school again.
Maybe I can go up to each of them and ask them, ‘Excuse me, are you a banshee?’ Yeah, that won’t work.
What about nearly dying in public? No, I’m already dead.
Maybe I’ve gone off the deep end. These ideas are ludicrous, but I don’t care. At least they’re something.
I glance at the clock. I’ve been here for hours, trapped in my head, cycling through these outrageous ideas. But I know one thing for sure: I can’t stop. I can’t afford to.
I need them to be something. Because if they’re not, if I can’t find Lazlo soon… then I won’t be able to keep myself from falling for Zair.
I let out a scream in exasperation as I hear a knock on my door.