“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”
“You’re not thinking of running away?” she probed, eyes narrowing.
I lifted my palms. “What are you talking about? Why would I do that?”
“Meena!” a male voice called out from the side entrance to the dorm, filling me with instant warmth, if only because it held the hope of saving me from this frustrating conversation.
“Gotta go,” I said, pushing my mouth into a painful sort of grin. “One of my boyfriends is calling.”
Leia’s face darkened, but this time she didn’t follow. She didn’t even push past me to head for our own dorm on the other side of the boys’. Her footsteps faded away in the direction we’d come from, back toward the Observatory, giving me a twinge of unease.
I quickly pushed the feeling aside. Leia was my friend, even if we were having a rocky patch. She was probably just aiming to go lecture our edgy new professor on the importance of conformity.
Good luck with that!
Dasharath met me several feet in front of his dorm’s side door. Heat crept into my cheeks, remembering all the kisses we’d shared last night in the woods, but when he bent low to brush his lips across my cheek, the feeling immediately cooled. I had agreed to consider actually dating him if we took the time to get to know each other first, but whatever madness had overtaken me in the woods had not followed me back to campus.
“Too much too soon?” Dash asked, drawing back, a worried crease in his forehead.
I forced a smile. Maybe too much too ever, but he didn’t need to know that right now. We were pre-dating. There was no law that said we had to have irresistible chemistry twenty-four-seven. No one could blame me if his aunt’s bizarrely threatening behavior last night had turned into a real turn-off. Maybe we just needed some time to re-ignite the spark. This was college. We had plenty of time.
Except I didn’t, really. Not right now.
“Dash, you’re not going to like this—”
His face fell like a wounded puppy, and I tried not to visibly cringe. “I’m not?”
“No,” I said brusquely, touching his hand to soften the blow. Immediately, a stream of warm electricity shot up my arm, eliciting an audible gasp. Flustered, I forgot what I had started out to say. The warmth worked its way through my body, leaving me a little light-headed.
Dash’s fingers laced through mine. “I’m not doing that on purpose, just so you know.”
Blinking rapidly, I cleared my throat. “Not doing what?”
He tilted his head with what I’m sure he imagined was a seductive smile. “Exchanging magic. It’s just happening.”
“Oh,” I said, staring down at our clasped hands. “I didn’t even know.”
“Most couples have to try, but—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I dropped his hand and tried to ignore how much I missed the sensation already. “I think you’re about to say something that’s going to make me feel claustrophobic, so let’s stop right there. I was about to ask you something you weren’t going to like.”
Dash dropped his chin with a disappointed sigh. “You want me to let you in the boys’ dormitory so you can visit Mr. Thomas?”
I gaped at him. “How did you know? Did you get that from my hand?”
He laughed. “No, Meena, I wasn’t stealing secrets from your magic. He told me about your… Proteus project. Didn’t want me to get the wrong idea. And no, I’m not happy about it, but I respect his forthrightness.” Dash straightened to his full height, which was considerably less than the glamour he’d worn in the woods last night had made it appear. “I even agreed to let you in for him so that if my aunt caught wind, she would think…” He cleared his throat and looked away. “She wouldn’t be angry.”
My stomach soured, even pushing a little bile into my throat. I swallowed it, along with the urge to point out how messed up it was that she would look the other way if he took a romantic interest to his room, but the rest of the guys weren’t even allowed to have female friends over. Judging from the chagrined look on his face, he already knew. No point in making him feel crappy about it. He wasn’t responsible for his aunt.
“Thank you,” I said as we walked toward the door. “I really appreciate you being cool. I mean, you should be cool. You don’t deserve a gold star for not being a possessive psycho, but, I mean, it’s cool that you actually listened to me. A lot of guys wouldn’t.”
Dash punched in his code and held the door open for me. His hand brushed mine as I walked by, and I shivered with the pleasant sensation that pulsed across my skin.
“Trust is the foundation for any lasting relationship,” Dash said, a little pompously. He immediately winced. “Oh, no. I did it again.”
“Friendships are relationships too,” I said, punching him playfully on the arm. “Buddy.”
His smile lit up his eyes—presumably because I didn’t bite his head off—and he clasped my hand. “I’ll walk you to Mr. Thomas’ room… Pal.”
I grinned, bumping my shoulder against his. “That’s more like it.”
His brow furrowed quizzically—and, I had to admit, kind of adorably—as he took in the sight of my cloak draped over my backpack in the bright light of the hallway.
“What?” I challenged him with one raised eyebrow.
“Nothing.” He shook his head and then squeezed my hand. “It’s just… you look like a very regal turtle.”
With the warmth of his magic sizzling through my veins, I found myself leaning ever so slightly into him. “Oh? Is that something you’re into?”
“It is now,” he murmured in the same low voice he’d used in the clearing.
Our footsteps slowed, and then stopped. Our bodies turned toward each other as if pulled by magnets. Or magic.
I knew it was a mistake. I knew exactly what I would feel. His mouth just didn’t do it for me like his hands. But still, my head was tilting, and my lips were parting, and he was leaning…
A door banged open at the end of the hallway. Braden stumbled out, shirtless and scowling, a long-neck bottle clutched in one hand. He pointed at me and slurred as loudly as humanly possible, “There’s my girl!”
Chapter 4
Dasharath immediately puffed himself up like some kind of fancy little rooster. He stepped in front of me, seeing a threat where I saw only a sad, lost boy teetering down the hall, slurping on his beer like a baby bottle.
“Mr. Thomas,” Dash said in his most formal, authoritative tone. “I will ask you to keep your voice down, and then I will ask you to explain how you intend to complete a group project in this… shameful state.”
Braden’s eyes darkened. “Dude. I’m fine. I am good to go. No need to worry about me!”
“Meena,” Dash said softly, “I think you should go. Let me walk you—”
“No,” I sighed, pushing in front of him with a reassuring squeeze to his elbow. “It’s alright. I can handle him.”
“He’s completely useless,” Dash huffed, grabbing my hand. “You won’t get anything done.”
I shook off Dash’s hand before the magic could have its way with me. “I know that. I’m just going to put him to bed.”
“Oh, no!” Braden howled, pressing his back against the wall. “I don’t go to bed with witches. Not anymore!”
My heart seized. With pity for the fool he was making of himself, yet also with something maybe a little like jealousy. The last witch he’d dated was Serenity. My worst enemy. The girl who had tried to kill me in the Arena that very afternoon. The girl who I had briefly transformed into a very confused white wolf. I hated her enough already, but even more now that I knew she may have been partially responsible for Braden’s… delicate emotional state.
Actually, more than partially responsible. Because she definitely belonged to the cult of weirdos we’d battled in the woods the night Braden got stabbed. The cult that may very well have been involved in the murder of Lucas Billings, Braden’s roommate and seemingly only friend.
Except maybe it
hadn’t. Maybe that had been creepy old Professor Phorm…
I shook all the mysteries out of my head for the time being. The important thing now was to get Braden safely tucked into bed before he did something really embarrassing like wet himself in front of my potential boyfriend. And then I needed to open a portal in his closet and go visit my lying father. And if that went as poorly as I suspected it was going to, I would need to sit on Braden’s couch and crack open a cold one myself.
“Meena, please,” Dash hissed through his teeth. “I have a bad feeling about you being alone with him.”
“Dash.” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek against his chest. “You are a very good friend. A very upstanding guy. But I’ve got this. He needs me, okay?” I lowered my voice, casting a sideways glance at Braden, who was sagging toward the floor. “Look at him.”
“He’s pathetic,” Dash grumbled. “At least let me come with you.”
I shook my head, easing out of his arms. “No. He’d be a nightmare tomorrow when the embarrassment kicks in. I appreciate your concern. I really, truly do. But you’ve got to trust me, remember?”
Dash’s mouth pulled back in the tightest, unhappiest frown, but he took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back. With a little bow, he muttered, “As you wish.”
I gave him a hard look because I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic. He turned on a dime and practically marched back down the hall, finally stopping beside the door we’d just entered through.
He was going to post himself like a soldier. He was nothing if not noble, it seemed.
A loud, meaty thud from behind told me Braden had collapsed onto the floor. Rolling my eyes for Dash’s benefit, I turned and went over to the crumpled pile of limbs that was the Academy’s other prize Proteus. He blinked his sorrowful, bloodshot eyes as I slid my arms under his grotesquely sweaty pits.
“Come on, big guy,” I grunted, tugging upwards. There was no way I could actually lift him, but perhaps he could be inspired to gather his feet under himself.
“I messed up,” he slurred, placing one hand flat on the wall behind him for support.
“Yep. You sure did.” I tugged again, and this time he sprang upward, knocking his head against my chin. Stars danced around my eyes, but I refused to let it show. Not with Dash watching like a loyal German Shepherd down the hall.
“We had a date.” Braden frowned. His breath was putting to rest any ideas I had about kissing him instead of Dasharath.
“We did not have a date,” I said firmly. “No witches, remember?”
“Right.” Braden nodded, steadying himself on my shoulder. “You’re a witch. I’m a boy-witch. It’s no good. Not a date.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, leading him toward his open door with one hand loosely on his back. “But we did have plans. Important ones. So I’m not very happy with you.”
His head sagged, threatening to pull his whole body down with it. My hand slid across his bare skin, digging into his ribs on the other side. He laughed and squirmed away from me, childishly swatting at my hand. “Don’t tickle.”
I wasn’t about to turn around and unwittingly beckon Dash back over, but I could feel his concerned eyes boring into us from behind. Guilt poked at my heart; not quite strong enough to call it a stab, but it smarted all the same. If Braden hadn’t barged out when he did, Dash and I might be making out right now. Dash would be delighted, and I would be…
Bored, and leading him on.
Guiding Braden through his door, I found myself glaring at the hair sticking up on the back of his head. He was the one who’d told me it was okay to date someone I wasn’t totally into, so he was the perfect person to blame for this mess. I should have thrown out his advice the second Oliver let the cat out of the bag about Braden and Serenity. The guy was clearly an idiot. The right thing to do was tell Dash that he’d caught me in a vulnerable moment last night, and while he seemed like a nice enough guy, I just wasn’t interested in dating him. Not even pre-dating him, whatever that even meant.
I pulled the door shut and flicked the lock. Braden stumbled toward his couch, which was littered with cans and bottles. He flopped down with a metallic crunch, grimaced, and then withdrew a crushed can from under his butt. He threw it across the room as though he wasn’t the one who’d left it there. But, of course, he had been. He lived here alone.
My eyes drifted toward the dark rectangle of Lucas’ open bedroom door. A sliver of moonlight fell across the neatly made bed, causing my heart to flip. Phorm’s goons had ripped that room apart searching for the missing file, but at some point during the day, Braden had restored order. Granted, he may have been able to do so with a few magical gestures, but it was the thought that counted, right? Tidying his friend’s room had mattered to him.
A low moan drew my attention back to the couch. Braden was slumped over his knees, cradling his head in both hands. The grip he had on his own hair was powerful enough to make the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch. He looked up at me suddenly, dragging his fingers over his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Meena.” He said the words slowly and with a seemingly great effort not to slur. “I’m not... someone you can—” He paused and emitted a sound halfway between a burp and a hiccup. “—count on.”
“Don’t,” I said firmly, marching over to the couch and beginning to gather up his trash. “You don’t get to judge the way people grieve. Not even yourself.”
His eyes widened, like he’d been given a rare gift, only to collapse into an expression of extreme bitterness. He looked toward his bedroom, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t much better before.”
I placed my hand—the one that wasn’t awkwardly clutching the necks of three empty bottles—on his shoulder and squeezed. “Well, then we really can’t expect you to be dealing with this any different.”
His lower lip trembled, and he quickly bit down on it. In that moment, he looked so vulnerable and lost that I had to fight the urge to comb my fingers through his tousled hair. He was a mess, yeah, but what else could he be? His best friend had been murdered and officially written off as a suicide, and everyone else seemed to be going along with this obviously fake story. No wonder he was going crazy.
I carried the bottles over to the waste basket and dropped them with a loud, glassy clank. Cringing, I hoped the noise wouldn’t bring Dasharath running. Braden also cringed, either from the noise or his own embarrassment, I couldn’t be sure.
“Just because it’s understandable doesn’t mean it’s... continuable,” I said, folding my arms. “We’re going to find you a more constructive way to handle your emotions.”
Braden made a face. “Don’t have ‘em.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to open the breach now. You just stay here and... be good.”
Now he was the one rolling his eyes as he staggered to his feet. “No way. Not safe. Woods. Wolves. Witches. Nope. I’m coming.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going back to the woods. I’m going to my house. To talk to my dad.”
“What?” His arms spread out to the sides, as though he was steadying himself on a bumpy subway train. “Meena, no. I’m not too drunk to know that’s a bad idea.”
“And why would that be?” I huffed with rising irritation. So much time had already been wasted. I shouldn’t have to argue with my friend for the right to see my dad. It was bad enough that the faculty forbade it.
Braden drew a hand over his scruffy beard, finally clutching the tuft on his chin in his fist. “Because you need your… you know.” He gestured, as if with a wand. “That was the whole point of taking the risk.”
“Well, now there’s a new point,” I said, and when that obviously wasn’t going to be enough to change his opinion, I let out a heavy sigh. “Braden, I saw something in Divination tonight—”
His mouth formed a surprised ‘O’ and he mimed looking through the telescope while lifting his eyebrows in an unspoken question.
Braden rocked back, then slammed a hand against the wall to support himself. He gaped at me with an expression he probably meant to look shocked and sympathetic, but it came across as just being… drunk. I took the opportunity to dart past him and into his dark bedroom, making a beeline for the closet where he kept the enchanted spool of silver thread that made leaving campus possible.
“Hey! You can’t!” He followed me, bumping noisily into the door frame and emitting a string of swear words that suggested he’d hit something important. Grunting and hissing, he hobbled over to the foot of his bed and grasped the footboard with both hands. The bed squeaked, and in an instant, the air in the room changed.
Braden straightened up, and the same moonlight I’d glimpsed shining gently on Lucas’ bed now threw every line of Braden’s muscular chest into stark relief. His jeans sat low on his hips, drooping without a belt. A warm flush swept downward from my neck as our eyes locked, and a jumble of words tumbled through my mind.
Shirtless. Bed. Dark. Alone.
He took a step forward in the same instant I took a step back, shaking my head. No. Braden was not… we had already agreed we didn’t see each other that way. That look in his eyes had been a trick of the light. And my body’s response had been even more foolish than my impulse to kiss Dash in the hallway had been.
Flustered, I trailed my fingers through my hair and took a deep, settling breath.
“Meena—” he started, but I held up a hand.
“Don’t,” I snapped, fearing whatever words the alcohol might have loosened.
Braden blinked and nodded a little too vigorously. “I was just going to ask if you could, uh, hand me a shirt.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right. Sure.”
Reaching behind me, I fumbled with the closet door. Why was my hand shaking so badly? And the sweat…
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