“Avery?”
His smile is gone.
“I just … I’m sorry … for what I’m doing to you.”
I shrug. I don’t know how to reply. I realize that this conversation won’t change anything; he’s still going to do what Piers and Owen ask of him. But I understand him a little better now. Maybe that’s all I really need.
Erin is practically freaking out when I get back to the room. She thought I was kidnapped by fairies or something when she woke up to find my bed empty. I cringe a little as I hand her the coffee. Who would’ve thought my greatest challenge here at the academy wouldn’t be the boys, or the classes, or even the monsters—but rather, just waking up early enough for coffee before class.
I ask her how things went yesterday with Professor Helsing, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. I respect that, even though I’m more than a little curious about how things played out. To each their own, especially since I don’t want to tell her about meeting Bennett this morning. Something about it is still too raw, too private. I’m still processing everything.
For now I just settle for thanking her. It’s not every day my little mouse of a roommate stands up to a lion.
As suspected, and duly warned, PW goes the same as always. Piers, Owen, and Bennett’s actions don’t stop, but they don’t make me angry now so much as they make me curious. Bennett’s confession has emboldened me. I was trying to avoid their antics before; now I’m not sure I want to.
I guess I have a thing for monsters … even the human variety.
On the way back into the school from the PW field, Sawyer pulls me aside. I look worriedly for Erin, but she’s confidently striding back inside on her own.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Sawyer says, and I turn my attention back to him. “You’re right. I don’t know your parents. I shouldn’t talk about them like I do.”
He has gorgeous eyes, golden brown like the fur of a mountain cat, or a loaf of bread fresh from the oven. When he looks sad like he does now, his soft lips turned down at the edges, eyes gleaming, I just want to give him whatever he’s asking for. One day, that’s going to get me into trouble, I know it.
“It’s okay,” I tell him genuinely. “I shouldn’t have exploded on you like that. You’ve been a great friend to me, this whole time.” I reach out and touch his arm, sliding my thumb along his skin.
He smiles back at me. He’s let the stubble grow back on his jaw for the first time since school started, and I have a crazy urge to rub my cheek on his.
“You’ve been good to me, too,” he says. He takes his other arm and pulls me toward him.
I’m stiff at first, my eyes shifting through the gaps in the trees around us. I don’t know what I’m looking for—assailants, traps, wayward monsters—but finding none, I finally let myself sink into him. Just for a moment.
He’s always shirtless for PW, and today’s no different. I can smell his soap mixing with the salty scent of his sweat. There was a time, long ago, when I might’ve been grossed out. But this last year, just the last few weeks, have changed me.
I’ve gotten tougher. And yet, somehow, softer too.
/> His hand gently stroking my back is warm and soothing. He feels different than I imagine Bennett would have, shorter and slimmer, but just as warm. He rests his cheek against the top of my head. For a moment, I close my eyes, and I’m not thinking of Bennett at all now. Just Sawyer. My hands snake around his waist and I press my palms against his bare back. There’s a thrill in my stomach that travels down, warming me. The urge to turn my head and press my lips against his chest suddenly overwhelms me.
I release him and step back. I can’t do that. I can’t get tangled up like that.
Is that disappointment I see in his eyes?
I smile. “I have to shower. I probably smell awful,” I joke, trying to break the spell that seems to have fallen over us.
“You smell fine,” he replies gently, but he takes my hand and starts walking back toward the school. Should I pull my hand away? I can’t make a decision, so I end up walking all the way to the residence hall with my hand clasped in his, my heart threatening to beat straight out of my chest. When he drops my hand at my door, my fingers feel cold, even though my palms are covered in sweat.
“See you in class.” His voice is still soft. He’s looking at me strangely, more intensely.
I nod. I can’t speak. I fumble for the doorknob.
He smiles and turns away. I open my door and stumble through it, kicking it shut behind me. It slams shut so hard one of the wood panels cracks in half.
What was that?
If this was about a monster, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d know exactly what to do. The instinct for killing was bred into me.
But this, with Sawyer, it’s different. There’s no one voice inside me telling me what is right. All my instincts are turned over and jumbled together, like an impossibly tangled ball of string.
“Avery, are you okay?”