Page 34 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Except, life was priceless. Taking one could never replace another.

The stars twinkled above him, shining what little light they could on his misery. If all he got was a name, if all he could hold on to was knowing where to place his grief, then he’d do his best to move on.

He turned and walked inside, shutting the porch door and the night sky out along with it. How late was it, anyway? Picking up his phone, he tapped to check how much time had passed but instead saw a message from a new number.

The sender had included their name, but her personality came out plenty in a handful of words. Of course, she’d reach out now, when he needed her kind heart as much as she needed a less-than-chivalrous knight.

His sweet witch, Ivory.

SIXTEEN

She swung her legs back and forth, kicking the rubber heel of her shoes against the old brick building with small, dull thuds. Most of the school’s structures were newer, but some had been around long enough to outwit modern safety protocols.

Tucked away in a corner of campus bordering the woods, a three-story building sat with a rusted metal escape ladder hanging down the side that cut off just above an industrial dumpster. She was barely tall enough to reach the bottom rung while balancing on the dumpster’s icy rim, but pulling herself up to the roof had been worth it.

After a conversation with her mom about another mediocre test score, she needed space, not the suffocating stuffiness of a dorm room. She needed the open sky, to see something other than a projection of who she was supposed to be.

Between avoiding everyone at Beta Rho, namely Jace, Jewelle, and Serena, and convincing her parents she didn’t go out partying every night, life had become a tightrope.

Reaching for success had begun to taste so bitter.

Even worse, she couldn’t obtain it. She didn’t know how to patch things up between her friends, she wasn’t getting grades good enough to maintain the Monroe legacy of becoming valedictorian, and the harder she tried, the more she sunk into a pit that sucked away her joy.

She’d never cared about being average, but now her identity had begun to fade away entirely, and it became harder and harder to keep her promise to Adrian—to appreciate herself.

So she finally made up her mind to dye her hair. Not out of desperation to see him again, though that was a plus, and not even to make Nia’s drunken excuse at the Halloween party more valid. Because she wanted it. For herself.

Such a trivial thing shouldn’t take much effort to decide—either leave it or try a change. A new hair color would hardly be life-altering, and it would grow back naturally, but precisely because it was trivial, she hadn’t pursued it.

It wouldn’t really matter in the long run. It didn’t change who she was or wasn’t.

Everyone else wouldn’t care one way or the other—but more importantly, the last time she tried to ask for what she wanted, Jace happened. All it took was one foolish, naive slip-up, and now even the thought of making a tiny off-route decision felt daunting.

But after hours of debating, getting up the nerve to send a text, and now no reply from Adrian, she still hadn’t rescinded her request.

She wanted to look in the mirror and see someone different. Less of a little lost girl and more of a witch capable of casting her own magic. Maybe a hint of what Adrian said she was—powerful.

Even if she’d never felt that way her whole life.

She was a sidekick. A pedestrian in passing. An onlooker to a galaxy much bigger and much more significant than herself.

Above her, stars peaked out from darkening skies. The last of the sun’s red rays had long since glared over campus before dipping below the horizon, and she lay nestled in her hoodie, tracing familiar constellations. The wind whispered incomprehensible secrets as it passed over, and the skirmish of animals in the woods let her know she wasn’t alone. Despite wearing decent socks, her toes had gone numb, and her breath now fogged out above her frozen nose, but she didn’t move.

People used to make fun of her for staring at the sky for so long. She’d watch for hours on end—after the eclipse or meteor shower ended and everyone else finished their cup of hot cocoa, she’d still be looking heavenward. They didn’t know she did it even when there wasn’t a reason to look. From her bedroom window, or on a blanket out in the yard when everyone else had gone to sleep, she’d always made time for the stars.

During the day, she got absorbed with looking out for everyone else, but when she was alone with the stars, she didn’t need to hide from herself. She could worry and cry and think without bothering anyone else.

Her phone buzzed, and she jumped. It vibrated from the center pocket of her sweatshirt, tickling her belly. Casting a quick glance around, she reassured herself that, indeed, no one else was out on the abandoned rooftop to witness her overreaction, then relaxed and pulled out her phone, holding the screen above her face.

She blinked, and her heart did a little flip.

He finally replied.

To ensure her first message had sounded clear, she read it over again.

Hey, it’s Ivory. I don’t mean to bother you.

Caspian gave me your number because I mentioned wanting to dye my hair purple. Not sure if you remember, but I’d like to take you up on your offer.

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