by Sadie Moss
And I need that. He didn’t just say “it sucked.” He told me what needed work so I could make it better. Dmitri sees the weak points, he sees what’s wrong or missing, but he also sees ways to make it better. Sure, he can be negative, but at least he’s constructive about it. He’s snarky and sarcastic, but so am I, and he’s never actually insulted me.
This? This isn’t negativity or sarcasm or crankiness. He looks like he desperately wants a bolt of lightning to strike him so he can die quickly.
Shit. I can’t just leave him like that.
I change course from my dark-corner-searching to walk over and join them. Then I put on my sunniest, what can I get you, drunk bachelor party on a Friday night customer smile, and say, “Hi, you must be Dmitri’s parents!”
Dmitri goes bug-eyed for a brief second—then his face settles into a disconcerting mask. He likes to try and play his cards close to his chest, but he’s not nearly as good at it as Roman and Asher are. Those two can actually hide what they’re thinking when they want to. Dmitri usually just radiates irritation.
But right now? I’m not getting anything from him. It’s like I’m staring at a robot.
What the fuck?
“I’m Elliot,” I say to his folks, since robot-Dmitri seems to have momentarily powered down. “You must be so proud of him.”
The two of them stare at me like I’m something that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. I stop myself from extending my hand to shake theirs, because I’m honestly not sure they’d deign to touch me.
Dmitri clears his throat. I’ve never seen him look this awkward. “Mother, Father, this is my… classmate.”
That brings me up short.
I don’t gape at him, because I’m not dramatic and I don’t like to cause a scene and I’m definitely not going to let the people around us realize an argument might be brewing. But I sure as fuck want to.
Classmate? Classmate?!
My initial response is to consider asking him if he just casually feels up all of his classmates, waits by their bedside for three months, and sheds tears when they wake up from their coma—but even I realize saying that in front of his parents will be like setting off a bomb.
But it still fucking hurts to be dismissed by him like this. More than I would’ve thought, honestly. He didn’t even call me his friend, and I think that crushes me the most. The way he just introduced me to his parents makes it sound like we’ve only run into each other in the halls a few times, nothing more.
I thought… Fuck. After I woke up from my coma, I really thought there was something between us. We haven’t put it out there in words, but then, neither of us is all that good at that. And I know I spent a long time—all of last year—pushing the guys away, every single one of them, but I thought things had changed. I’ve been opening up, things have been moving forward, we’ve all been getting closer. I hoped…
And Dmitri can’t say anything?
Dmitri, who’s never worried about saying anything to anyone in his life? Dmitri, who goads me into fighting him in Combat class and talks back to the teachers and can clear a path through a crowded room just by radiating intimidating power? That Dmitri isn’t being honest with his parents about who I am? Not even to acknowledge we know each other beyond casual acquaintanceship?
I maintain my smile, just barely. Thank God for my bartending job; it’s the only way I’m able to hide my emotions.
Is Dmitri really that ashamed of me? Of… us?
“It’s so nice you two could come all the way out here to visit,” I say. I’m not sure where his family actually lives, but I know they’re super rich, Russian, and I heard something once about a second home in Paris, so wherever they’re from, I doubt it’s near here.
“Mm, yes,” his mother says. She doesn’t offer up her name, or her hand for me to shake. In fact, she’s smiling fixedly like I’m a particularly dirty, mud-covered dog that she doesn’t want me touching her nice, clean dress. “We thought it best to see what kind of place Dmitri has had to put up with. What kind of… people.”
Great. Nice to know she thinks I’m dirt under her heel.
Screw this. I’m not putting up with this bullshit for another second.
“Well, it was great to meet you,” I blurt out with false cheer. “I hope you guys enjoy your visit! Thanks for introducing me, Dmitri.”
Yeah, it’s a passive aggressive little dig at him, but I don’t give two shits right now.
I smile at them, wave, and then walk off. I force myself to keep my steps measured and slow, my breathing even, until I make my way across the quad and into Wellwood Hall.
That’s when I finally let go.
Chapter 12
The school building is quiet since so many students are outside greeting their families or their friends’ families. I brace one hand against the wall and try to control my breathing, but I can’t seem to get myself to stop gasping. I’m horrified and ashamed of the way tears prick at my eyes.
Dmitri and I aren’t—Jesus, it’s not like he proposed to me under the moonlight or anything. We haven’t been passionately dating for months. We’ve barely even started on this… this thing between us, whatever it is.
But that makes it even worse, somehow. Like he’s killed a tiny plant before it even had a chance to grow.
“Elliot!”
It’s Dmitri, calling for me in hushed tones.
What the fuck does he want?
I push away from the wall and start walking again, blinking hard as I straighten my spine. “Fuck off.”
Dmitri grabs me by the wrist. “Come here.”
I yelp in anger, but he drags me into an empty classroom, closing the door behind me. I yank my hand back.
“What the hell was that?” I demand. “I’m just your classmate? Not even a fucking friend, but a classmate? If you really don’t want anything to happen between us, fine! That’s great! But you should’ve said something right around the time you were making goo-goo eyes at me and kissing me like I was fucking Sleeping Beauty. Or do you do that with everyone you just want a quick fuck from? Although—gotta say—if a quick fuck is all you wanted, you’re moving slower than the goddamn continental drift!”
Dmitri glares at me. “I’m sorry, am I being insulted because I didn’t just bend you over and fuck you the first chance I had?”
“No, I’m insulting you, you idiotic two-bit shithead, because you spent an entire year playing hot and cold with me and getting horny with me when we spar and fucking crying over my goddamn sick bed—and then you turn around and tell your parents we’re just classmates! God!”
I start pacing back and forth, all of my irritation at him spiraling out of control, like a rollercoaster that’s had the brakes taken off and is in danger of careening off the track completely.
“If you didn’t want anything to do with me, then you should’ve said so instead of practically seducing my panties off in Roman’s classroom, telling me you care about my happiness and all that shit. Or just tell me you want to fuck, we can fuck, and then boom! Done! We move on! I didn’t ask for you to stay with me all summer. I didn’t ask for you to be there. I didn’t ask for any of it.”
Ohhh, yeah. Turns out I have a lot of pent up feelings where Dmitri is concerned. It makes sense, I guess, considering it’s been a year of one step forward, two steps back with this guy. But right now, I’m not interested in analyzing the hows or whys of the anger boiling up inside me. I’m only interested in expelling it in a fiery torrent like a volcano.
I take a step closer to him, leveling an angry finger at his chest.
“So excuse me for thinking maybe we were something more, and excuse me for thinking you’d actually have the balls to introduce me to your parents properly, because God knows you make this big fucking show of being so tough that nothing scares you. Except, oh wait, maybe you’re a coward after all—because if I am something to you and you just lied to your fucking parents—”
I shake my head, breathing hard.
&n
bsp; “I’m not going to be some dirty little secret, someone you shove aside when people you really care about are around. I’m not the kind of person who—don’t you think for one second that—and God, would it have killed you to just—”
Nothing I’m saying is making much sense anymore, but my mouth won’t stop moving. My thoughts just keep pouring out in a jumbled up mess.
“I didn’t ask for anything! You’re the one who decided to stay and get all soft on me when I woke up, you’re the one who decided to look after me and kiss me! You chose all of that! And I’m pretty fucking sure you threw the Trial qualifications fight, bucko, so—”
Dmitri grabs my wrists, jolting me into a halt. He’s glaring at me, his eyes burning, and I’m not scared of him—I never have been—but I have to admit seeing him like this pulls me up short in my tirade. He looks like he’s about to go off on a rant himself, and I can see the muscles in his neck and jaw straining as he tries to hold himself back.
“It’s not like that,” he snarls. He squeezes my wrists, seems to realize he’s possibly hurting me, and lets go. “Jesus Christ. It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like, genius?” I snap. I’m not going to cry in front of him, I’m not, and the only other option I have is anger.
“I do care—”
“Yeah? You have a funny way of showing it.”
“Damn it, Elliot, I’m trying to tell you I’m engaged!”
He’s—
What?
“What the fuck?” I blurt out.
Dmitri stills, staring at me. He draws in a deep breath and lets it out, his expression drawn and strained. “I don’t want you for just a quick fuck, Princess. If I did, I would’ve slept with you when we first met, or I would’ve moved on by now. I do care about you. More than I should. But the reason I kept trying to keep you at arm’s length is that I’m—”
“Engaged.” My lips form the word, but I can’t believe I’m saying it. “Yeah, you mentioned that. Does your fiancée know you’ve been as good as cheating on her?”
Without waiting for an answer, I head for the door. I don’t need to hear this. I feel sick. I helped someone basically cheat on some poor, unsuspecting girl—
Dmitri barrels around me and gets in the way, pressing his hand on the door to stop me from opening it. “Fucking hell, you are an impossible woman. Will you just hold on and let me explain? I’m not—it’s not exactly a traditional… I didn’t propose or anything.”
I stop trying to shove past him, stepping back and narrowing my eyes. He sighs, leaning against the door like he just can’t stand under his own power anymore. He looks pissed off and frustrated, but more than that, he looks exhausted.
“Look, my family is high up in magical society, okay? Powerful. So when I was a kid, my father and a good friend of his from another powerful magical family—they decided I was going to marry this guy’s daughter. I think I was about three years old at the time. Really fucking young. It was a handshake agreement. So I’m not engaged, more like… promised. It was basically a fucking business deal, a plan to merge our magical families and our financial assets through this marriage.”
Holy shit.
That—that’s closing a business deal all right, but with people’s lives. How does this poor girl feel? I know I wouldn’t like it one damn bit. My dad’s an asshole for splitting, and I’ve spent the past thirteen years hating him for that, but at least he hasn’t tried to control my life like this.
I’d rather he be out of my life entirely than trying to dictate how I live it.
Jesus. His own father set this up. If that’s the kind of guy who’s been Dmitri’s parent, the person in control of his life as a child… no wonder he is the way he is. So much about him makes sense now that I know this.
I just wish understanding Dmitri better didn’t come at the price of all this fucked up shit.
“You…” I lick my lips, trying to organize my whirling thoughts. “You aren’t going to go along with it, are you? I mean, you’re one of the most stubborn people I know. You talk back to professors, you never give me or Cam or Asher a break, I think you’re the only person besides me who isn’t intimidated by Roman—you’ve got to stand up to your parents, right? They can’t control you. You’re an adult; you’re twenty-six, for God’s sake.”
Dmitri just presses away from the door and paces halfway across the room, every muscle in his body tense. He stands there silently, and I feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat.
“You’re not serious!” I choke out. “You don’t even like your parents, why would you throw your whole life away for them? Let them plan everything for you?”
He swallows hard, clears his throat, glares—or tries to—and then finally looks away, like he can’t bear to look at me anymore.
I want to ask if this is it—if we’re breaking up—except that, well, we were never officially together. We weren’t really dating, just… kind of developing into something organically. Cam and Asher are the ones who stood up and said, “we want to date you.” Dmitri never said that.
Maybe he just got swept up in this because his roommates were into me, and hey, the two of us do have chemistry. Maybe he ended up in my orbit without really wanting to be there.
It feels like someone is sitting on my chest, making it impossible for me to breathe.
Fuck. Is this what heartbreak feels like?
I’m not a child. I’m not even a love-struck teenager. I’ve never really been in any serious relationships, and after Mom died and my life became about taking care of Maddy, I sort of gave up on it. Casual flings are all I know, not this serious stuff. I’ve never been able to say that I’ve been in love, and I liked it that way. But this…
Is this what it feels like?
The silence seems to stretch on for ages, until I want to scream. We’re staring at each other. Dmitri’s not saying anything, and I’m not saying anything, because what the fuck would I actually say? The ball’s kind of in his court here anyway, and I’m just wondering if I should leave—
When the door opens.
“And this is where our…”
Asher trails off as he sees Dmitri and me glaring at each other.
The entire Prince family is behind him, and oh fuck. How the hell are they going to react to their brother-slash-son’s girlfriend having a private argument with another guy?
Luckily I’m not crying, and Dmitri and I are standing a good bit apart, not touching or anything. Asher looks from one of us to the other, and I know he’s about to ask what’s going on, so I just quickly slip past him.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” I tell him under my breath.
Asher catches my hand, squeezes, then nods and lets me go as his family stares in confusion.
On my way out, I hear him say to Dmitri, “What the hell did you do now?”
I’m pretty sure it’s the only time I’ve seen Asher truly pissed, but I ignore it in favor of walking as fast as I can until I burst through the doors into the crisp fall air.
People are still gathered in the quad, so I make a sharp left turn, heading toward the woods. As soon as the babble of voices behind me fades, I break into a run, and I don’t stop running until I’m deep in the forest, leaving everything behind.
The twisting, aching feeling in my stomach though?
The invisible hand squeezing my heart?
Those stay with me.
Chapter 13
The next week is… um… it’s…
Okay, it’s awkward as hell.
Dmitri and I aren’t talking. I’ve got no interest in talking to him, and he’s clearly got no interest in talking to me. Everything else in our lives keeps going on as normal, but just… without him acknowledging that I’m there.
And it’s making me realize that maybe I really was wrong all this time.
I must have misinterpreted this whole thing. I’ve been putting way too much importance on Dmitri’s supposed feelings for me, on this connection I thought I fe
lt between us.
I feel awful. Absolutely awful. If it wasn’t for the connection between his friends and me, Dmitri and I probably would’ve been a quick one-night stand, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, and then never talked again. But instead, this whole time he’s tried to ignore his attraction so he wouldn’t give the wrong impression, the impression that he wanted more, and I still assumed he did, and I just—God, I feel like such an idiot.
Here I was trying not to get attached, and I went and did it anyway.
Of course… it’s not entirely my fault, here. I mean, why the hell wasn’t he honest with me in the first place, huh? Why couldn’t he just tell me he didn’t like me and that I shouldn’t assume anything from him? It’s fifty-fifty here, buddy, and I don’t see him apologizing for his part in things, and that annoys the fuck out of me.
When I think about the group of men that’s formed around me without him in it… God, I hate to say it, but it breaks my heart, okay? It breaks my fucking heart. I don’t want to lose Dmitri. I care about him, more than I think I even let myself admit before all this bullshit came to light. And what about the other guys? Roman, who’s started treating him like a brother, and Cam and Asher, who are his best friends. How can any of this be the same without him?
I’ll be honest, worrying about all of this kind of eats up my week. I throw myself into my homework so I have something to think about, but God knows I’m not paying attention to anything else. Alyssa and her crew can tell, I think, because they leave me alone, probably figuring I wouldn’t even hear them if they did throw a taunt my way.
Another student gets her magic stolen, bringing the total up to four. I’m not in class with her, she’s a first-year and it’s an introductory class—poor girl, her magic just sparked, and now it’s gone for good—but honestly, I don’t pay as much attention to it as everyone else does. It’s whispered about in the halls constantly, just like Raul’s attacks last year, but all I can think about is Dmitri and how the fuck I’m supposed to fix this.