Page 52 of Poet & Protector

“You shouldn’t bother lying to me about this,” she said curtly.

Goddammit.

Resigned, I rested my elbows on the table and put my face in my hands. “I don’t know what to do. I didn’t expect this. At all.”

“You thought you’d hate him.”

I looked at her. “Yes.”

“That’s understandable, he is a Nightshade,” she replied. “But even if the road took a turn you didn’t see coming, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t follow it. It might lead somewhere you like.”

I didn’t reply. I was afraid she was wrong, but it was even more frightening to risk believing she could be right.

Nine

Nev’s clearing

Tuesday

MASON

Nev ignored me in class the Monday after his show. And Tuesday. I was pretty sure he was pissed I’d left the Burnout without talking to him. Or just pissed at me in general like usual.

Either way, he wasn’t talking to me and we still had this assignment to do. We were supposed to meet in the forest clearing Tuesday after school. I was expecting him to cancel. He surprised me by sending a message confirming the time and place just as I was leaving school for the day. I replied that I was coming, but I’d already decided it was going to be the last time we got together. For this assignment or anything else.

I couldn’t take it anymore, the constant sniping, his one-word answers and drawn-out silences where he’d capture my gaze and just watch me, like I was supposed to read his mind or something. But the absolute worst part about being around Nev was that whenever I wasn’t with him, I wished I was. It made no sense. He got under my skin in every way possible, yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His face insisted on appearing in my mind without warning. His phantom voice chased me everywhere. In class, at home, when I was hanging out with my pack. And then there were the dreams. I shivered even thinking about those dreams and what it was like waking up from them.

As much as I hated to admit it, at some point I’d become infatuated with him. Now I needed to get over it. That wasn’t going to happen if we kept meeting up multiple times a week.

When I entered the clearing and shifted into human form, Nev was sitting in his usual spot on the log.

He glanced up, ripped a page from his notebook, and held it out to me. “I outlined some subjects and approaches to the poem we can try.”

No ‘hello.’ No ‘how are you.’ No friendly smile.

I was done.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Nev frowned at me. “Don’t you even want to hear my ideas?”

“No, because we’re not working on this poem anymore.”

“Yes, we are,” he said. “That’s the assignment.”

“It was a mistake for us to try to do this project together,” I growled. “You know it. I know it. We should ask Ms. Castillo to give us new partners.”

“We’re two weeks into it,” Nev countered. “It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not,” I snapped. “I can’t work with you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a snob and an asshole.”

“Don’t hold back, Mason,” Nev’s reply dripped with sarcasm. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Oh, such a clever retort,” I said, my voice bitter.