Page 79 of Crashing Tides

“I can’t go through that again,” I tell him. I can’t stop shaking. The ground beneath my feet disappears. I feel like I could float away. “I can’t spend the next however many months or years worrying about that.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Duncan says softly, finally taking a step toward me, but it’s too late. Panic has seeped into my bones. “I promise," he says, and I want to believe him, but I can’t. Marcus’s engagement announcement flashes behind my eyes, and I swallow down bile.

I’ve never initiated a breakup before. My throat aches. I don’t want to say the words.

So I don’t. I just turn and walk away.

“Dominic!” he shouts after me. My name is scratchy, like he’s in pain when he says it.

I don’t turn back.

My phone rings. I’m miserable and drunk, so I answer it, slurring out, “Hello?”

“Merman,” hisses a voice on the other end. The same one from the other night. Deep, gravelly, like a cheap cartoon villain’s.

Instead of hanging up, I drop my phone on the floor, then madly scramble for it. I hear his voice through the receiver, far away from my ear.

“Do you know what you’re worth?” the voice continues. “Do you know what people would do for you?”

I’m fucking terrified. I can’t seem to slide the call away, so I do the next best thing and turn my phone all the way off.

Somehow, this person knows who I am. Has my phone number, even. This is bad. Really bad. And there’s nobody I can tell. If I call Jane, she’s going to ask what’s wrong, and I’m going to have to tell her that I’m an idiot all over again. And I will. Soon. I just… really need to be alone right now.

Do you know what you’re worth?

I know the answer to that. Nothing. I’ve always been a fuck-up. I’m not a good student. I’m not career-oriented. I can’t even keep a boyfriend. The one thing I am is hot, but that’s only in the human world. Among the fae at Halea, I’m a four out of ten at best.

I’m worth more as a pile of scales than I am as a person.

A part of me hoped that being fae would be easier than being human. That maybe I’d fit in better, that all my misshapen pieces would find a home.

Instead, everything is so much worse.

I fail Elarion’s midterm.

I’m not surprised. My magic is unrestrained on a good day.

My cup of water explodes. The flame that is supposed to sit politely in the palm of my hand consumes my entire torso and toasts the chair I’m sitting in. The squeaky toy that I summon slaps three people in the face on its way over to me. My performance is so bad that even Jordan looks at me with concern instead of his usual mean laughter.

When Elarion beckons me after class, I’m already mentally configuring the best way to pack my stuff. He’s going to tell me to leave. Going to tell me that bringing me here was a mistake.

I’ll visit Mom when I go home, I tell myself, trudging slowly to meet him, arms wrapped around my chest. She’ll be glad to see me. It’s been a while. I’ll get her some lilies, or maybe violets. Or roses?

Elarion wears his hair in a high ponytail that compliments his crimson sweater, his angular face. When he turns to me, he wears an expression of exasperation, eyebrows drawn together above his peridot eyes. Slender hands move to his hips. “What the hell happened today?”

I don’t have anything to say for myself, so I say nothing. My eyes burn. If I look at him, he’s going to see tears brimming, and that’s⁠—

I can’t deal with that.

He sighs. When I glance up, his expression has softened.

I’m going to cry or puke. The thought of him witnessing either makes me want to melt into the floor.

“I have makeup sessions available next Monday,” he sighs. “I’m going to mark down that you had the flu today, and I am very graciously allowing you a retake.”

A retake. Holy shit. “Thank you,” I say, and mean it.

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “You aren’t my best student, but I know you’re capable of more than this. I’m professionally obligated to ask: Are you alright?”