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She caresses my hair, the smell of her cheap vanilla perfume from the Dollar General comforting. “Remember when I used to do this?”
I shake my head.
“You were nine going on sixteen, so angry and sad and confused. I used to just hold you and let you cry. Afterward, I’d offer you a plate of cornbread or a slice of homemade apple pie with some sweet tea and you’d be all better.”
I lift my head, smiling through my tears. “And here we are again.”
“Yes, but I suspect this time, you need more than some bread and tea to fix you up.” Her gaze flicks to my facedown phone, back to me. “Friend trouble or boy trouble?”
“Both.” I wipe my sleeve over my cheek, collecting the tears.
A knowing look dawns on her face. “Nick said Mack’s been struggling this year. He thinks it’s his fault, that they’ve pushed her for so long that she doesn’t know what she actually wants.”
“He said that?” I forget that Zinnia and Nick have each other on speed dial and gossip about us constantly.
“Yes, he’s been worried sick about her. It must be hard for the sweet girl, especially when you know exactly what you want to do after you graduate, while she’s . . . confused. I told Nick he should step back and let her make her own choices.”
“I always thought she wanted to work at her dads’ firms.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I think back on all the times we discussed our majors. While I blabbered on and on about finding a job to help protect mortals from the Fae and make our lives better, she was always strangely quiet.
She’s never once said she wants to be a lawyer, and when we discussed Guardian jobs after school, she always changed the subject.
Zinnia reaches over and hands me my glass of iced tea. “Now tell me about this boy. Is he cute? Does he have nice parents?”
Cute? Nice parents? Titania save me, how do I explain Valerian Sylverfrost? I take a long sip of my drink, the tea so sweet my teeth ache, and say, “What if it wasn’t a . . . boy?”
Surprise flickers in her eyes. I wait for the condemnation I know I would feel in her position, but there’s only worry. “He’s a Faerie?” I don’t even have time to answer before she says, “Are you being safe?”
I nod. “We haven’t—didn’t get that far, but I was prepared.” Eclipsa found me the herbs mortal women need to keep from getting pregnant from a Fae.
“Did he hurt you?” she asks, her voice harder, making it clear she wouldn’t hesitate to rain hell on him if he did.
“Does my heart count?”
“Ah, I see. The heart’s trickier than flesh.” She takes a slice of banana bread, munching it as she thinks. “So you’re in love with this Faerie?”
How does she do that? I nod again, wishing I could deny it. The Fae killed her family. Loving one feels like a betrayal.
“But he doesn’t love you back?”
“No.” My chest aches, and I settle back on the bed. “He wanted to take things to the next level physically, he even pissed off his dad and possibly endangered his life for me, but . . .” I clear emotion from my voice. “But he couldn’t love me. Not the way I wanted.” deliberating on giving it to the school, I take the crate back to my room. I’ll take it home and find a way to mail it to them.
By the time Mack returns, my rolling suitcase and Puma gym back sit by the door, packed and ready. My hair is nearly dried, pulled back into a clip. I want to crumple into a ball and sleep away the last twelve hours, but this is the last time I’ll see Mack for months, so I hop up to make us one final cup of coffee instead.
Behind me, Mack is unusually silent, but I chalk it up to her hangover. “Rough night?” I tease as I turn, coffee mugs in hand.
When I see the tears in her eyes, I freeze mid-step, steamy coffee spilling onto my fingers and dripping onto the faded green rug. “Mack?” I rush to set down the cups on the coffee table and settle beside her on the loveseat. “What happened? Who do I need to murder?”
Her eyes are rimmed red, like she’s been crying for a while. “I got my final grade back.” She drags the back of her hand over her nose. “I failed.”
“What?” I blurt, positive I’ve misheard her. “How is that possible?”
“Remember the first Potions and Poisons test? When you were afflicted by the tormentor spell and got to redo the exam?”
I nod, a ball of dread forming in my belly.
“I was so worried about you that I left midway through the test. After that grade, I was struggling to catch up, and then everything kept happening to you and I couldn’t concentrate. I was trying to prove I deserved to be here, so I refused the tutors my parents offered. I thought the final would make up for everything, but—” Tears pour freely down her swollen cheeks. “ My dads are going to kill me.”
I grab her hands. “Isn’t there something we can do? Appeal? Extra credit.”
