Chapter 13
“Nova, look!” I press my cheek to the window and stare up at the white flurries blanketing the sky. “It’s snowing!”
I undo the latch and pry the pane open. A moment later, Nova’s shoulder bumps against mine.
We stick our heads out together, laughing as the flakes stick to our hair.
I close my eyes and arch my neck back. Cold stings kiss my cheeks.
I stick my tongue out, feeling like a little kid again.
Because that’s just what snow does. To everyone.
It’s like magic. The world stops turning.
Burdens lighten. Time rolls back. And suddenly, you’re ten years old, praying for a day off school, buzzing at all the possibilities.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
I blink against the thickening ivory. Nox watches us through his open window, his hands heavy on the sill as if to hold himself back. Though he addressed both of us, his eyes are entirely on me.
“It’s snowing,” I offer lamely.
He arches a brow. “And…?”
“And live a little!” Nova chides before grabbing a clump of snow and attempting to chuck it at him. Nox gives her an unimpressed look as the miniature snowball disappears into a poof halfway across the opening.
“Haven’t you ever caught a snowflake before?” I ask, then stick out my tongue again. A plump white fleck drifts down from the sky and I lean closer to nab it. The cold pricks my taste buds. I look up with taunting eyes.
Nox is laser focused on my mouth.
Heat rolls through me like a crashing wave.
He meets my gaze.
“Nox doesn’t have time for fun,” Nova affectionately teases, bumping her shoulder into mine. “I’m pretty sure he came out of the womb with a training schedule.”
I don’t laugh. There’s a truth to her words that makes my heart twinge. My brow furrows as I peer closer at him, the weather making it difficult to read his expression. “Not even as a kid?”
“Beverly Hills isn’t exactly the snow capital of the world,” he drawls.
Oh, right. They grew up in California.
“I used to beg and beg to go to Lake Tahoe for a vacation. I was desperate to see snow! But my dad always said skiing was too risky. He didn’t want Nox to get an injury.
” She snorts suddenly and grabs my arm, but her focus is on her brother.
“Oh my god, do you remember when we prank called that guy to set up a snow machine in our backyard so we could go sledding? Dad was pissed!”
Nova starts cracking up. Nox…doesn’t.
“Hey—” I start, not sure where the sentence is actually heading, but I’m saved from the embarrassment by a panicked voice behind me.
“Clara! We have to go!”
My heart leaps into my throat as I face Willa, matching her alarm.
Our biology final! Shit! The snow completely made me forget, though I’m not sure how that’s possible.
December has passed in a haze of studying, the last week of classes quickly giving way to test preparations.
It’s hard to believe that a few hours from now, my first semester of college will officially be over.
Assuming I survive this exam, of course.
“We have to go!” I shout, launching from the bed.
“I know! That’s what I just said!”
I stumble around, shoving my feet into my boots, pushing my arms through my jacket sleeves, and grabbing my bag seemingly all at once in this awkward sort of dance that I’m surprised doesn’t leave me flat on my face. Willa links arms with me as soon as I get to the door and we hustle for the steps.
“I’ll meet you for coffee after!” Nova shouts down the hall. She took her last final two days ago and has just been waiting around before catching a flight back to Los Angeles for break. Apparently, it’s her dad’s year for Christmas.
I lift my arm with a thumbs-up, already deep in preparation mode with Willa as we quickly dole information back and forth. The exam passes in a blink. I walk out, dazed and confused, as if I’ve just gone through war.
“How do you feel?” Willa asks.
“Like I either got every answer right or I totally failed, and I have no idea which.”
“Okay, good.” I look up at her strangely. She smiles down. “Then I’m not the only one.”
We laugh together and suddenly I’m free.
That’s it.
Classes are done. Finals are over. Winter break begins tomorrow and I’ve got nothing left to do but have fun with my friends before we all part ways.
Nova meets us for coffee. On the walk back to the dorm, we venture off the salt-covered sidewalks and choose to kick up the snow.
It’s not the first snowfall of the year—there’ve been a few overnight dustings and a massive storm buried the campus the day after we left for Thanksgiving break—but it’s the first that feels as if we’re living in a life-size snow globe.
It’s one of those perfect storms where it’s not too windy and not too cold, where the snow is thick enough to turn the world white, yet soft and fluffy.
Tall pines buffer us from the worst, like soldiers standing guard.
Flakes stick to my hair, my scarf. Nova’s and Willa’s cheeks are bright pink with the frost. Our breaths come out in puffy clouds.
Happy tingles warm my chest. This place, this moment, is pure magic.
At least, it was.
Until a snowball smacks me in the face.
“What the hell?” I sputter, spitting out a clump of snow.
It’s dry enough that the ball exploded directly upon impact, which is good because I won’t bruise, but annoying because I now bear an uncanny resemblance to a yeti.
I turn to the side, spotting Nox about fifteen feet to my left, leaning against a lamppost. I point at him. “You!”
“Me?” he questions, as if offended. But if there’s one look that boy can’t pull off, it’s innocence. He reeks of mischief. “I thought I didn’t know how to have fun?”
“You don’t,” I deadpan.
Nova snorts by my side. “I said you don’t have time for fun, not that you don’t know how. You’re very fun, when you want to be, which is rare and hardly ever in the middle of the day. So the pool must be closed or…”
Nova trails off as her eyes narrow. Willa’s hold on my arm tightens. The three of us make eye contact for a split second as the realization hits.
“Trap!”
Then we’re running.
But it’s too late. Before we even take two steps, the world turns completely white.
An avalanche of snow dumps onto our heads.
I hear snickers, but I can’t see anything as the flakes cloud my eyes.
Before I can rub them away, the hits start coming.
It’s freaking target practice. Snowballs explode against my arms, my legs, my back, my chest. One after another after another, making it clear that Nox and whoever he’s working with came prepared for war.
I have my suspicions, of course, one of which is confirmed when Nova shrieks, “I’m going to kill you, Logan! ”
I start to turn toward her when an arm comes around my waist. I’m jerked back into a hard chest. Hot breath strokes down my neck.
“I’m sorry,” Nox whispers against my skin.
His voice shoots through me like a firecracker, lighting my entire body up.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. It’s the heat of his body, I tell myself.
The shock after the cold. But it’s not. Deep down, in that small part of me that goes molten at his touch, I know it’s not. “Was I distracting you?”
Son of a bitch!
This is revenge. For dodgeball. And, okay, I’ll admit, I’m sort of impressed at how well they played the long game on this one, biding their time. But the rest of me is just pissed off.
I shove Nox away.
He laughs in that cocky, superior way that makes all my hackles rise.
All right, California boy. Let’s go.
He wants a snowball fight? This New Yorker will give him one.
I’ve been doing this for eighteen years.
It’s practically reflex by this point. I drop to my knees, uncaring of how the cold seeps into my pants, and drag my fingers through the snow.
I’ve got two perfectly acceptable rounds of ammunition ready before he even thinks to step back.
He ducks the first one with a wild grin.
The second lands right in the middle of his smug face.
“Ha!” I bark, still packing little clumps between my palms.
Nox wipes the snow from his eyes, somehow still managing to give me a toe-curling stare despite the flakes clinging to his brows. I launch another snowball at his head.
“Come on. We’re even,” he says, backing away.
“Not a chance.”
I throw another one, and another one, a bit surprised he’s not fighting back. Instead, he’s backing away, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. I’m almost out of snowballs when he goes down hard, grabbing his ankle in the snow.
Shit!
Did I actually hurt him?
He doesn’t make a sound, but he wouldn’t. Pain lances across his face. I drop my armful of snow and sprint across the lawn, then fall to my knees by his side.
“Are you okay?”
I search for an injury, frantic, my heart pounding. He can’t be hurt. It would ruin everything for him. That’s why he’s always so cautious, so careful. I—
Nox grabs me around the middle and rolls, pinning me against the snow. I struggle, obviously, but the man is made of iron. He doesn’t budge. All I end up doing is burying myself deeper in the cold. With a glare tightening my features, I look up.
Fuck. He’s so beautiful it hurts.
I inhale sharply at the sudden nearness of his face hovering above mine, his black hair so stark against the silver sky, his green eyes impossibly vibrant, the emerald streaks so bright they look lit by live fire.
He isn’t smiling, isn’t laughing. There’s no give in his expression.
It’s serious, severe, torn as his gaze drags lower and settles on my lips.
Is he going to kiss me?
Am I going to let him kiss me?
No. No. No.
Butterflies explode across my chest.
Locusts, I admonish. They’re locusts, whispering at my impending doom. But the longer the moment extends, the harder it is to believe the lie, those fluttering wings moving faster, burning with color and life, my body so charged I’m worried I’m beginning to buzz.
“Victory!” Logan’s yell cuts through the tension.
Grant laughs at the same moment Nova snarls.
Nox jerks back just slightly, just enough to reveal how close gravity came to pulling him down. The edge of his lip quirks in a grin, and everything I thought I saw on his face vanishes with a blink of his treacherous eyes.
“It’s nice to know you care, Clara,” he taunts, bringing me back to his fake little stunt and how easily I fell for it.
Before I can reply, he rubs a handful of snow into my hair and jumps to his feet.
I lunge for him, but between the weather and the angle and my totally erratic heartbeat, I miss.
His jacket slips through my unsteady fingers and he dances easily away.
As he spins, a folded bunch of papers falls from his pocket, jostled loose by my tug.
He doesn’t seem to notice. With how petty I’m feeling, I don’t bother to tell him.
The boys make a quick escape, their laughter cutting through the quiet serenity of the storm.
“Dang.” Willa sighs from a few feet away, drawing my gaze. A snort slips out before I can stop it. Her blonde curls are caked with thick clumps of snow. “They totally owned us. This must be why Grant asked if my CI was waterproof. I didn’t even think anything of it. Those sneaky bastards!”
“Don’t worry.” Nova brushes the snow from her forehead and snaps her hand to the side, flicking off the melted droplets.
A devious little grin widens her lips. “I’ll think of something.
If they wanted a war, they’ve got one.” Then she shivers, slightly cracking the badass-bitch vibe I think she’s going for as her teeth begin to chatter.
“But first a warm shower! I’m f-f-freezing. ”
“Same,” I groan as I roll onto my knees.
I’m halfway to standing when my gaze snags on the papers already close to being buried in the snow. Two words jump out at me.
Deep-Sea.
My stomach leaps into my throat. Before Willa or Nova sees, I snatch the folded sheets and stuff them in my pocket.
Heart pounding, I zip it closed. They burn a hole in my thigh the entire walk back to our dorm.
When Nova leaves our room to go shower, I nearly rip the zipper on my jacket trying to get to them.
The Biological Consequences and Ethical Concerns of Deep-Sea Mining by Nox Monroe.
What the fuck?! I think, staring at the title, reading it over and over again just to be sure I’m not completely losing my mind. What the actual fuck!?
It’s his final paper for our nonfiction writing class. I recognize Professor Milton’s handwriting scratched across the top—Excellent research and an interesting subject choice! A-
Wait. A-?
Damn. He did better than me.
I wrote about how cephalopod limb regeneration might be the key to unlocking new medical therapies for people who suffer from spinal cord injuries. According to Professor Milton, the style was a bit too technical. Cue eye-roll. My B+ suddenly tastes sour.
Not the point.
He wrote about deep-sea mining? DEEP-SEA MINING?
Why? The topic was completely open ended.
All we had to do was write a fifteen-page research paper in any nonfiction style on any subject matter we wanted, as long as we could spin it into something interesting.
He could have picked anything. Swimming.
Food. The scientific probability of real-life zombies.
I don’t fucking know. But he chose deep-sea mining. He chose marine biology.
If it’s a dig, I don’t see how because I was clearly never supposed to know.
It still feels like one.
I lean back in my chair and start reading, begrudgingly impressed by the thought and effort he put into his work. A memory flits to the surface—me berating him on the first day of class, self-defensive when he asked about my major. What exactly did I say?
There are companies out there right now chomping at the bit to mine it for ores and completely fuck everything up.
I practically gave him his thesis. But I still don’t get why he’d go to all the trouble of spending hours researching a topic just to get back at me with a paper I’d never see. What was in it for him?
“I’ve got it!” Nova announces as she sweeps back into our room.
I practically fall out of my chair. Luckily, she’s too wrapped up in her schemes to notice me almost face-plant in my haste to stuff Nox’s paper inside my desk drawer, where she won’t see it. Out of sight, out of mind.
If only.
My brain is stuck on that paper, stuck on that why, the entire time Nova speaks. I barely hear her plan, but when she glances over her shoulder at me, a question in her eyes, I agree without hesitation.
“Let’s do it.”
A little good-natured revenge is exactly what I need.
It’s the only defense I have against that horrible, no good, idiotic part of me that softens at Nox’s gesture.
I can’t afford to let down my guard, especially not with him.
I’m not ready to risk getting hurt again. I’m not strong enough to survive it.