Chapter 8

The ground beneath my feet turned traitor, a slick deceit that sent me sprawling. I went down hard, the breath knocked from my lungs, the taste of copper filling my mouth. My palms scraped against the unyielding stone path, the pain a sharp reminder of my clumsiness—or rather, the enchantment that seemed to have claimed me as its puppet. I pushed myself up, my cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and fury, only to slip again, my feet sliding out from under me as if greased.

I couldn’t help but cast a glance over my shoulder, searching for the telltale gleam of oil or some other trickery. But there was nothing. Just the path, mocking me with its dry, ordinary surface. The laughter of my peers echoed in my ears, each giggle a blade slicing through my composure. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to my feet once more, my heart pounding with the injustice of it all.

I didn’t need to look to know their eyes were on me, relishing in my humiliation. They had always delighted in my misfortune, a spectacle for their bored, privileged lives. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not today. Not ever.

With as much dignity as I could muster, I hurried away from the jeering crowd, my mind racing with possibilities. This had to be a hex, a malicious spell woven by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. And I had a sickening suspicion who that someone might be.

I practically threw myself through the door of my dorm, slamming it shut behind me. I leaned against the door, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

I needed to focus, to push aside the anger and the hurt and concentrate on the problem at hand. I closed my eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath, and reached for the core of my magic. It pulsed within me, a steady heartbeat of power.

I moved to my desk, the wood worn smooth from countless hours of study and spellwork. With trembling hands, I pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill, and a small vial of ink I had infused with my own essence. Carefully, I began to sketch out a series of sigils, each line and curve a silent plea to the magic that thrummed beneath the surface of our world.

The ink shimmered on the page, the sigils coming alive with a dark, luminescent glow. I whispered an incantation under my breath, my focus unwavering. The magic swirled around me, a tangible presence in the room.

With a sigh of relief, I felt the magic break, releasing me from a tight hold I didn’t even realize was gripping me.

Hearing Nick chuckle so soon after last night’s goodbye turned my stomach. He was sitting on the other side of the library next to Summer and her friends. She was practically sitting in his lap and running her hands up and down the arm closest to her.

I had come to the library to work on some passion projects as a pick-me-up, but this was the furthest thing from a pick-me-up. I shouldn’t have come.

In my haste to keep the contents of my stomach, I threw all of my books in my bag before throwing my bag over my shoulder and walking out of the room as fast as I could without causing suspicion.

With every step I took outside of it, I felt my heart break a little more and more. It felt like each breath was being stolen, and not even the breath in my lungs was my own anymore. Every inch of me still belonged to him, even though not even a stray thought of his was mine.

Don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry.

I didn’t want to break down in front of the rest of the student body. Already knowing if I did, the asshat supremes or Summer will use it against me. I knew I couldn’t make it to my dorm, not without breaking down, at least. I could already feel the black dots crowding my vision from the uncontrollable breathing I was using my entire energy to contain.

Don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry.

My foot stumbled over the other, and that was it. With a gasp and an effort to catch myself from falling, the tears came quickly. I tried not to make eye contact with the girl walking opposite to me as I gripped my bag tighter to my shoulder, booked it to the first unused classroom, and shut the door.

Whispering, I asked the air to make the room soundproof, and with heavy steps, I dragged myself to the teacher’s desk and crawled underneath. Tears were running down my face, and I couldn’t even stop them, not that I cared much any more.

I was safe here… kind of.

Yanking the blanket, I kept it at the bottom of my bag out to wrap myself in it like a makeshift nest for moments like this. I curled underneath the thin weight and let my body do what it wanted.

Didn’t he see me there? Didn’t he even fucking care? He should have been considerate to me, and fucking waited at least a single day before doing this shit. He should have- a sob ripped so hard my chest heaved, shocking me out of my thoughts.

How dare he? How fucking dare he?

Oh gods, it hurts so bad. This is so disgusting. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be in this classroom crying my soul out. I am in my fourth year, so I should be worried about my final exam results. I should be kissing boys that didn’t matter. Not this, never this.

An arm reached under my back and tugged me to a warm chest. It must be in my imagination because Nick would have never come to me, and outside of Nick, no one would have wanted to touch me with a nine-inch pole. The blanket still covered my head, and I didn’t want the illusion to disappear, so I snuggled into the chest. A bitter laugh bubbled up. How fucking sad was I, where I was so desperate for human contact? I was letting my mind take over like this, and I would rather die than feel as alone as I was seconds ago.

The numbness started to creep up again, taking the edge off my hysteria and letting my body relax further and further into the warmth it made up.

I could feel fingers card through my hair, and I was seriously impressed with how hard my mind was clinging to this hallucination as I drifted off.