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Eventually, restlessness compels me to open my eyes.
Foster is sleeping beside me with his arm resting on my hip, looking peaceful and gorgeous as ever
I watch him sleep for a while, finding solace in it and trying not to focus on the fact that I’m the power source for the elemental enchanter god, that I could be part of what fixes our world, that I could potentially save others from deaths like Foster’s grandparents and Charlotte’s husband. But it’s all I think about—the possibility of what I could do and how frightening it is. Yet, in the back of my mind, I want to. I want to help others. Help the Everettsons like they helped me.
Eventually, I climb out of bed and make my way over to the window to see what Elemental Enchantment looks like.
When I lift my hand to pull back the curtain, I note the dried blood on my hands, a reminder of how much pain I’d been in when Foster told me about my parents. Or well, Marla and Scott. They almost feel like strangers to me now, even though they raised me. But technically, they didn’t. Technically, I pretty much raised myself. And it had never bothered me too much before. In fact, I thought that’s how things were supposed to be. But then I met the Everettsons and realized that parents are supposed to care about their kids. I wonder if that’s how my life would’ve been if my real mom raised me. Then again, she left me with Scott and Marla so she might not be that great.
As pain tears at my chest again, my fingernails instinctively curl inward. Not wanting to reopen the gashes on my palms, I open the curtain and focus on the scene before me.
The sight is startling, yet I find some sort of serenity in it, as if I belong to it or it belongs to me. And I’m kind of glad. This place is beautiful, with a sky as blue as lightning, and a sun as silvery as the crystals on snowflakes. The leaves in the flourishing trees look like iridescent rain lingering on the ground as the sunlight peeks out from the clouds to greet it. The wind dances around in ribbons of swirls, and the grass around the house I’m in is as orange and vibrant as flames. Put it all together, and this world is all the elements combined, which makes sense since that’s sort of what an elemental enchanter is.
“It’s pretty, right?” Foster says as he moves up behind me.
I whirl around to face him with my hand pressed to my heart. “Holy shit, I didn’t hear you get up.”
His hair is a little ruffled, and his clothes are wrinkled, but the dark circles underneath his eyes are less prominent.
“I think you were a little distracted by the view.” He looks at me. “It’s beautiful, right?”
I nod and try not to squirm, but the way he’s staring at me, as if I’m important, makes me extremely nervous. Between being one of the only elemental enchanters left, and being the power source of the god of elemental enchanters at that, how am I to ever know whether anyone really likes me for me or if they’re simply sticking around to protect what I am? Maybe I was always destined to be alone, which is a miserable thought, but nonetheless I can’t get it out of my mind.
Foster’s lips sink into a frown. “What’s wrong?”
Sighing, I brush past him and plop down on the edge of the bed, tucking my hands underneath my legs. “I’m just thinking about what I am and how it’s kind of a curse.”
He sits down beside me, so close our knees touch and his power surges through me. “It has to be hard to deal with. But, like I said, we’re going to protect you. My family and I, we won’t let anything happened to you.”
“I know, but between what I am and with my … with Marla and Scott just bailing on me … how am I ever supposed to know if anyone likes me for me?” I roll my eyes at myself. “Okay, please just forget I said that. I sound like a child.”
“You don’t sound like a child. In fact, you’ve handled this very maturely.” He intertwines his fingers through mine and gives my hand a squeeze. “Easton and I were honestly worried you might try to run again after I told you, but you didn’t, because you’re strong. You’re seriously the strongest creature I’ve ever met.” He looks down at our hands and swallows hard. “I think… I need to tell you something else.”
I struggle not to cringe, but I’m concerned about how much more new information my mind and emotions can handle. “Okay.”
He lifts his gaze to mine. “It might be easier if I just showed you by using my ability again. That is, if you’re okay with that?”
“You want to project your thoughts into me again?” I ask, making sure I’m understanding him correctly.
He gives a wavering nod. “But only if it’s okay with you.”
“It’s perfectly okay.” It’s not like it was bad the first time he did it. Just startling.
Of course, when he practically bubbles with nerves as he reaches out and places his hands on the sides of my head, I just about retract my statement. But before I can part my lips, his memories soar into me, clips and images filling
my mind. Memories of him standing outside the auto body shop, of the first time he saw me, which was the same day I first saw him. How beautiful he thought I looked. How he wished he could talk to me yet knew he couldn’t. How he went back to my town all the time just to get a glimpse of me. How he saw me around town, sometimes with my friends, sometimes alone, and how sad I looked—I never realized I looked that sad. How scared he was the day I approached him. How he wanted to kiss me so badly when I did. How much it hurt when he had to turn me down. How much it hurt every time he was mean to me. How excited he was when he found out what I was, but that he was also afraid. Afraid that I hated him. Afraid that he’d still be alone.
Afraid. Afraid. Afraid.
But that fear shifted into something else when he spoke to me in the bushes and continued to shift every other moment we spent together. And when he kissed me, he was still afraid, but for a different reason.
Afraid that he’d lose me.
By the time he lowers his hands, I’m breathing profusely. He looks at me, seeming a bit shy and unsure, like how I imagined he would be before I met him that day at the auto body shop.
I want to say so much to him, tell him everything, tell him anything, take away his pain, but my lips are stunned into silence. So, I do the only thing I can do.
I lean forward and press my lips against his.
