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“Lita, you’re not … you’re not still into him, are you?” I peer into her eyes, searching for signs of soul loss, which only seems to annoy her.

“Stop with the probing stare. You’re freaking me out. But to answer your question, no—I’m not into Cade. Not at all. Not even a teensy, weensy bit. But at the same time I can’t help thinking how he’s all too aware of just how hard I work on this party. He knows how much it means to me. Heck, I’ve been organizing this thing going all the way back to sixth grade. And broken heart or not, it’s completely rude of him to just blow me and my party off like we don’t exist.”

“But maybe it’s too painful for him to be around you,” Xotichl says, giving me a swift kick under the table that warns me to play along.

“Yeah, maybe he doesn’t want you to see what happens when he gets really upset?” I say, which only succeeds in garnering a weird look from both Xotichl and Lita alike.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Lita frowns. “I swear you are such an enigma to me. Anyway, the thing is, if Cade’s going to continue to pine over me, then the least he could do is have the decency to show up and pine in person. He could at least give me the satisfaction of seeing it firsthand!”

Xotichl and I nod, as though we totally understand.

“Well, at least his twin’s here. That should make you happy, right?”

I follow the length of her gaze all the way to where Dace stands, looking tall, lean, strong, gorgeous. His gaze instantly finding mine as an uncertain smile lights up his face.

“Listen—” I force myself to look away as I retrieve a small envelope from my pocket and shove it into Lita’s hand. “I’m not really sure how this Secret Santa thing works, but can you give this to Dace?”

Xotichl leans toward it, attempting to read its energy, while Lita pinches it between her index finger and thumb, her voice as disdainful as her expression. “What’d you do, Santos—write him a twenty-dollar check?”

“Just—” I turn toward Dace. He’s heading toward me, only a few feet away. Then I turn back to Lita, my voice hurried as I say, “Can you please do it?”

“Whatever. Your wish is my command.” She tucks the envelope under her arm as I shoot for the back door. Calling after me to say, “Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I put my money toward these boots, cool, huh?”

But I just keep running, plowing through the exit before Dace can reach me.

twenty-nine

Dace

When I’m ready to face her, I push through the door. Calling on all of my senses, just like Leftfoot taught me, to locate Daire in the throng. And the second I see her, everything stops.

The noise dims.

The light fades.

The room goes quiet and hazy except for the nimbus of soft golden light that surrounds her.

She’s beautiful.

I already knew that, of course. Yet seeing her now, with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, and her gaze burning on mine, I’m instantly transported to the day at the Enchanted Spring. Reminded of the way she looked lying beneath me, just after we …

I shake my head, check my pocket again to ensure that her gift is still there and make my way toward her. Covering more than half the room in just a handful of steps, only to watch her turn on her heel and bolt for the back door, as Lita steps before me and says, “This is for you.” She shoves a small, rectangular envelope into my hand. “Please keep in mind that it’s not from me. So, if it’s as lame as I think, don’t shoot the messenger. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She waves to someone across the room and leaves me flipping the envelope back and forth in my palm. It’s from Daire, that much I know. But since I can’t sense its contents, I’m reluctant to open it.

Is it some kind of official breakup letter?

Some change-of-heart memo that states: I know you think you broke up with me, but really I’m breaking up with you—?

Is that why she ran out the back door the second she saw me?

Or am I just being paranoid?

“Maybe you should open it and see,” Xotichl says, reading into my energy as she comes over to join me.

Of course, she’s right. No use standing here guessing. I slip a finger under the flap, and retrieve a heavy piece of cream-colored paper featuring a hand-scrawled map, which, though it doesn’t make any immediate sense, at least is not as bad as I imagined.

“Can I guess?” Xotichl asks, grinning when Auden comes up from behind her and plants a kiss on her cheek.

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