Page 26 of Calling Quarters

I knew what it was like to feel like a visitor in your own body. Or to feel like life had a set path decided for you long before you were even born.

I could relate to her.

But was that enough of a reason to help her?

A potential Counter?

My nemesis?

It would be easier to kill her.

I could do it right here, on the beach and no one would know. I doubted she told Tabitha or Blaire where she'd gone—they would have discouraged it.

The others would help dispose of her body. They'd understand why I did it. She wouldn't even realize it was happening. The foolish girl kept her back to me the majority of our conversation, offering ample opportunity to quickly take her life. Perhaps, that was what she wanted to begin with. That was why she was truly here.

If I was anything like my father, I wouldn't even regret it. Wouldn't think twice about it. That was the price of offering your trust to a desperate Quarter. That's what the Movement wanted the rest of the town to believe, so they could isolate us.

But I wasn't my father. I couldn't take a life if there was a chance it wasn't mine to take—and a Counter's lifewasmine to take. I wasn't the dangerous vigilante that the Movement attempted to paint me as, eliminating anyone in my path who slightly resembled my enemies.

I was desperate for my full gift, but not desperate enough to senselessly kill for it.

No, I'd let her live through her pity party another day and continue to toy with her. I doubted that was much better than the alternative, anyway.

“I'm not even sure why I bothered coming here. All I've done is create more confusion.”

Her small hands wrung together nervously at her waist. When I didn't offer any comforting response, she turned to walk away.

I hesitated until she was nearly off the beach, her soft sighs of pain somehow overpowering the sound of the waves beside me as her bare feet met the rocky road that blended into the sand.

“Why does it matter?”

She stopped and turned. Her mouth was now pulled down into a frown. “Because it's my family. They'd want me to find answers.”

I could tell she didn't fully believe those words. Doubt and unease danced in her already sulking expression.

“Have you always done whatever your family wants you to do?” I goaded.

Who was I to even say that? My whole existence was centered around meeting my family's expectations. It felt good to project that frustration onto someone else—to see the rage that it ignited inside of her and know exactly how hot it burned.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, have you ever considered that with them out of the picture, you should move on and live your own life?”

Her feet carried her back to me effortlessly through the dark sand and a thin finger shot into the air at me, stabbing my chest when she was close enough to reach.

The sensation it sent through my entire body was impossible to mask. I'd grown used to the constant ache that hummed inside my chest any time she was near, but we'd never touched before. This was a thousand times worse.

It felt as if I'd been struck by lightning, poisoning my blood and spreading through my veins from the spot her finger jabbed into the rest of my body. It didn't cease until it reached my fingers and toes, and I could swear I felt it beyond that as well.

It was the most alive I've felt in ages.

That was such a strange thing to admit. That this insignificant girl, who I was sure was my sworn enemy intent on killing me, was the one thing that had come along and brought me back to life.

I desperately wanted our contact to end. Yet, I wanted her to keep her finger on me forever. To spread her palm across my chest and see how far and hot we could burn together.

She appeared to feel it as well. Her large eyes widened even further, the strange color of her irises shrinking into the blackness of her growing, inky pupils. Her arm jerked back, and the pain stopped as soon as her skin left mine. She cradled her elbow and glared at me accusingly, as if I’d somehow managed to intentionally inflict the pain she was feeling.

“What did you just do to me?”

---