My stomach aches from laughing,a sensation I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before, and as I sit cross-legged on my bed, I can’t help but desperately cling to it, despite the fatigue that lingers in my body.
For the first time ever, my private space is more than a shell. Hearing laughter, making friends, and connecting with others prevails without the lingering presence of my parents. They may linger in my thoughts, but they’re not here, and I refuse to let them ruin it.
Meadow is beside me, leaning against the headboard, while Cami, Aster, and Greta fill the rest of the space. Who knew my bed was big enough to hold all of us? With three empty pizza boxes too.
Ember flickers around, not wanting to miss out on girl time, it seems. Apparently, she’s fun when she’s not so distracted by all the boy sprites chasing her.
“I think I'm obsessed with you,” Aster muses, making me blush.
“I can't tell whether that's a good or bad thing,” I admit, and she snickers.
“It’s good, I promise. I can just tell you're not going to go easy on my brothers, and that's exactly what they both need and deserve.”
“Agreed,” Cami chimes in, resting her head on her twin’s shoulder. “Besides, it’s good to make them grovel, then there are no excuses down the line.”
“Or, maybe they just shouldn’t do dumb things to begin with,” Greta says with a sigh, shaking her head at her sons even though they’re not here.
“Maybe they had a good reason,” Meadow murmurs, and Aster chokes on her next breath as she gapes at my friend.
“Wash your mouth out.”
My pulse pounds in my ears for a moment before the room erupts in laughter, Greta and Meadow included, as the twins mumble about their brothers’ inadequacies.
“Regardless, Ivy deserves mates who are going to support her, build her up, and cherish her in the way that she deserves,” Cami declares, and I shake my head.
Do I want all of those things? Yes. But I’ve been trained to believe I don’t deserve them. I can see that for myself without anyone else reaching that conclusion.
Greta clears her throat as she glances around my room. I try to see it through her eyes, but it’s impossible. There’s no personality in here, just a smattering of my books on the desk and a few belongings here or there; everything else is in my closet. Although the clothing and shoes may be mine, I didn’tchoose them, all of them were provided and chosen by my parents. Well, my mother.
At least when Hugo packed me up and shipped me out, he chose my favorites.
The mostmething in here is the fencing bag under my bed.
“Has anyone informed your mother that you're okay?” Greta blurts, and the room stills.
“I’m going to assume not,” I admit, and the atmosphere turns to ice.
She instantly worries her bottom lip. “I said something wrong, didn't I?”
I shake my head. “No, honestly, it's okay, but since the first time I… died”—I gulp, the word tangy on my tongue—“my mother has been unreachable.”
“Because your father is a bastard?” Cami snaps, making Greta gasp, but I laugh, the feeling light in my chest as I nod.
“I’m not really sure, to be honest. All I know is my father killed me on purpose, and neither of them has been seen since.”
“Oh, that's terrible. I'm so sorry,” Greta whispers, planting her hand on my knee, and I smile.
“Don't worry about it. She only ever liked me when I did, walked, wore, and said exactly what she wanted. I was nothing more than a prop. I would be disappointed to see her. Really.”
“Well, how's academy life going?” Cami asks, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood, and I smile, but Meadow scoffs.
"With the target on her head and the past two years of classes she's missed, she's wading in deep waters, but she's doing a kick-ass job of it,” she insists, beaming at me.
For the first time, hearing someone express my issues doesn’t feel so daunting or unbearable. Maybe it’s the praise that came with it.
“And you're adjusting to being a phoenix?” Aster adds, and I shrug.
“I’m adjusting to something,” I admit, earning a round of snickers before Aster sighs.
