Page 54 of Bound By Fury

It’s a festering wound that I’m afraid I’ll succumb to. It feels like my tenuous control over the static in my veins is the only thing stopping me from completely imploding. And who knows how many people I’ll hurt if that happens?

You’re inherently attuned to the divine celestial, Cancer, but your gifts are suppressed by your inability to be present in your day-to-day. Open your mind and heart to the world around you. Allow yourself to accept a push from the universe when you’re too scared to take the jump on your own.

Click here to review your natal chart.

Okay, so maybe I spent the $4.99 on the premium app—but even when the stars refuse to talk to me, I find that I still want them to. Even if it’s stupid. What could Gigi hear that I can’t?

Like I predicted, the letter wasn’t enough, and I’m hungry for more of her. Desperate to eke out every possible connection to her I can get since she hasn’t returned to my dreams at all. I’m not sure if this means she’s abandoned me, or if it’s proof that it was all in my head in the first place.

Surely, if the other side is real, if she can see just how much I’m struggling, she’d come back to me…

But she hasn’t. So that’s why I’m in the library today. In search of answers about Gigi, about the witches, about whatever I can get my hands on.

The back of the main room is an eerie sort of quiet, with slants of mote-dotted light streaming in from dusty skylights, and rows and rows of wood tables with bronze desk lamps and armchairs covered in worn, red upholstery.

The wooden floors groan with each step I take, and I find myself nearly tiptoeing to the set of spiral stairs leading to the research basement when someone whisper-shouts my name.

I pause, turning in a small circle.

A light tap on my shoulder.

“Oh shit!” I say, jumping as I turn around to find Lucas’s amused expression. “How do you always manage to do that?!” His hair is a disheveled mop, and his eyes are a darker shade than usual, perhaps from lack of sleep. His pressed button-down is only half tucked into his pants, and his tie is loose around his neck. Anxiety unfurls in my chest at the state of him, the instinct to worry about him apparently ingrained in me from all those summers past.

“Sorry,” Lucas says with a chuckle. He shifts the stack of books in his hands to his other arm. “Didn’t realize you were so easily spooked.”

“Yeah, me neither,” I sigh. “Hey, you okay? Are the migraines back?” I watch his eyes round out and I picture all the days he spent curled into a ball at the base of the old sycamore, a picnic blanket thrown over his head and a bucket within reach. Sometimes they would last on and off for days, and in the end, he looked kind of like this—an apparition of himself.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’ve had a pretty bad bout of them recently. But it’s all good now. How’d you know?”

He ducks his head and picks a speck of lint from my shoulder.

“I just know you, I guess,” I say, peeking at the spines of the books he’s holding. “That’s an impressive stack of—” I read the title of the book on top, The Carolina Gold Rush, “—mining literature? You got a project coming up or something?”

“These?” he asks, glancing down. “Nah, I’m working for Mr. Hyde this year, helping him with some research, and he asked me to come check these out.”

Mr. Hyde is a stocky man with a harsh combover and a perpetually sweaty head. He’s the assistant football coach and the sociology teacher, two things that seem to be in opposition to each other.

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

“… Cool…”

The vibe between us is no longer familiar but charged with something new and awkward.

He uses his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “Sooo, anyway, what are you up to today? Studying already?”

“Actually I was on my way to check out the yearbook archive. Daisy said something about them being in the basement when she gave me a tour of campus.”

“Oh, really? Yeah, I know where they are, if you want me to show you? I volunteered in the library last year.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

He ducks his head as if he’s embarrassed. “My dad was vying for headmaster and wanted me to get involved with the school. Show a strong family unit passionate about academics, you know? Especially after the accident. Town politics and all that got thrown off without Uncle Jo, and it was—” he cuts himself off, running an uncomfortable hand through his hair. “It’s been over two decades since a Matsoukas sat at the head of the school and not just on the board.”

Heat floods my cheeks. In all this, I’d never stopped to consider the implications of Headmaster Matsoukas being Lucas’s dad. “Oh yeah,” I say. “How is that, by the way?”

“Having a dad who’s also headmaster? You know, it has its perks and its downsides. Mostly perks though, if I’m honest.” He lifts his chin now, pride and mischief playing on his face.