I looked at her questioningly, feeling like an idiot stuck on the tube.
“Jesus, Julie. Just stick to the drug story and don’t answer Bayla’s questions.”
I was beginning to understand what she was getting at.
“How do you want me to do better? Tell them, like we tell all these clueless people in town, fake horror stories about the woods?” Horror stories or the drug story. Both of those things were absurd. How did they come up with something like that? “And after all,Bayis the one asking all the weird questions all the time.”
My voice didn’t sound like it should have, and I was beginning to fear that Grace wouldn’t take me seriously, but finally, she took off her black headphones and looked at me blankly.
Sighing, unfortunately, without answering me in a proper sentence, Grace put on her headphones to turn to her laptop covered with colorful women’s rights and new Vanderwood University stickers.
She had made herself comfortable on my bed for the past hour. Vivienna, Amber, and Kelly hadn’t sent her out, but judging by the loud music, being their roommate wasn’t particularly pleasant.
I leaned into the many pastel light blue pillows I had brought with me.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve needed pillows without end, where I could not only be safe from my neck pain but also just sink into them.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I closed the door, and the following breeze brushed through my thin platinum-blonde hair. The light energy noticeably made my round white crystal, framed by a silver setting, which I wore on the thin silver necklace, glow.
Grace, who must have noticed, put down her headphones and looked at me in an examining way before raising a single eyebrow. Always these people who could do this...
She must have seen my gray-white glowing irises, even though that feature was very weak on me, as was my air magic.
“What are you doing?” she finally asked. But when I was about to answer, she immediately continued talking. “We’re not allowed to work magic here. You know that!”
And there she was again – the Grace who couldn’t take a joke when it came to our powers and their use, the Grace who reminded me daily of where I was born into and what my duties were.
On one hand, she was right. The Senseque reacted negatively to our magic because they could sense any spell instantly. And the Ruisangors, who had made it to Vanderwood for whatever reason, could have sensed it as well. On the other hand, it was only a small basic trick that Air Quatura learned right from the beginning. So, I doubted a wolf would show up at the door and tear us apart.
I simply ignored Grace and reached for the white smartphone again. My heart began to beat faster with every second. Hopinghehad texted me again, I ran my finger across the bottom of the screen.
The screen immediately lit up, and a selfie of Grace and I could be seen, which she had taken. She stuck her tongue out whilerolling her eyes. If there was one thing my cousin was, it was lively. And yet she remained the dutiful one of the two of us.
A smile spread across my lips as I read that I had a notification. I quickly opened our chat.
To my surprise, he was online.
I typed quickly and pressed send, starting a new chat.
I had to grin at the god comparison. Erik and his obsession with Greek legends. Then I remembered that I still wanted to send him the book to Vancouver.
I replied, still grinning, because I also knew about Greek gods by now. Erik had triggered this obsession in me, and I also owned books that he had sent me.
I had to grin and sent him a laugh emoji. With him, I somehow managed not to feel weird or insecure. We just texted, debated philosophical approaches from the antique, and exchanged books.
A year ago, I had landed on his blog purely by accident. I had been supposed to be doing philosophy homework, but his posts had kept me busy for an incredible 27 hours, during which I had browsed his entire blog.
If there was one thing he was good at, it was writing, inspiring others with his fascination through his written word. Not for nothing, he had driven me to become a specialist in the field of Greek mythology.
At that time, I had overcome myself to anonymously contact him under the pseudonymJand so our friendship had begun.
He had hit the right nerve, because automatically I had to smile again.
I had to be careful that Grace didn’t see what his words were doing to me because what I had been doing here for a good five months was nobody’s business—not even hers. Theseconversations Erik and I were having were too intimate, and the fact that I had abest friendbesides her was something Grace didn’t need to know.
My smile weakened slightly and pity spread through me.
And immediately the smirk returned.