Page 26 of The Boy Who Loved Wicked
“Oh, all right.” She deflated, but there were too many things threatening to drive me into a panic attack to care. The force of Danny’s stare crushed my windpipe. “I’ll probably pick up another shift then.” She waited for something from me that never came before wishing us a good day and leaving.
“You’ve got plans, Pheeny?”
“Yes, I do,” I snapped, resisting the urge to rub at my temples.
His dipped brows lifted along with the corners of his lips. “Mason. Of course! Are you holding out on us, Pheenster?”
“I’ll tell you all about it on the way to school.” This had the full potential of blowing up in my face.Oh the tangled webs we weave.
By lunchtime I had a headache. It started as a pin-prick at the back of my skull after a debate started in Sebastian’s class over aging and the well-lived life. How we become attached to things we experience in our youth. Comparing that to Aristotle’s purview of age and nature. A debate that earned me a warning glare from him and a “Pheeny, chill out” gritted through a closed mouth from Theory. I grew defensive over what I assumed was a subliminal hit to what we’d begun the prior night. Had he changed his mind? Was this his way of telling me?
The pin-prick morphed to a full-blown knifed assault on all fronts when, from the corner of my eye, I could see him watching me with concern as the other students filed out. Of course he was having second thoughts. I couldn’t even handle a simple class lesson.
To top it off, now I found myself having to scurry from our table to intercept Mason as he approached in order to avoid Danny and Theory finding out that they weren’t the only ones I’d been avoiding. “Hey,” I said, scratching at the back of my neck.
“Hey.” We stood there awkwardly before he took a step closer while looking around. “I haven’t heard from you. Wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything wrong.”
And right when I thought the pounding couldn’t get any worse, guilt found an unaffected area right behind my eyeballs. “God, no, Mason—” The skin along my arms pebbled, and I turned in the direction of the sudden chill to find Sebastian standing at the entrance to the cafeteria, watching me and Mason before joining the faculty lunch line. I sagged in on myself, tired and riddled with anxiety from the events of the day. Mason was unaware of the circus of thoughts in my head. “You did nothing wrong, Mason. It’s just not a good time...for us.” Could the floor open now and gulp me down whole? “With studying and college applications—”
“I get it.” He tried to mask the hurt. “Hey, we can still be friends, right?” He aimed for a lighthearted tone but failed.
“Yeah. I’d like that.” And for the first time in my life I ditched school early.
Things were looking up when I snatched the hardcopy of Macbeth from my dresser and sauntered over to my window with the intentions of getting lost in another world. Only Emily curled up in a lounge chair by the pool derailed my plans. It was cold out, and she burrowed deeper into the blanket around her shoulders. Her hair loose and blowing as she sat captivated by what she was reading. I brought the binoculars to my face and then lowered them when the trembling started in my hands.Sebastian’s journal.Am I in there? Did he know he’d forgotten it? After a time, she rested the open book against her chest, wiping under her eyelids. I made it to my bed right before my legs gave out, and I allowed the blinding pain that plagued me all day to lull me to sleep.
I shot up in bed and grimaced when the room rocked. Surrounded by darkness now, I couldn’t remember what had jarred me awake. I brought the sleeve of my shirt across my forehead, a chill settling over me from the sweat. The phone rang and with a silent yelp, I searched around the bed for it already missing the call when my fingers struck it. The screen lit up. Ten missed calls from Sebastian. It rang again. “Hello?”
“Mr. Michaelson.” He sounded relieved.
I threw my legs over the bed. “Hey.”
“Are you all right? I saw you leave school, and then you weren’t answering.”
I sighed, falling back on the bed. “I didn’t hear it. I was sleeping.”
“So early?”
“I had a bad headache. It’s been a long day.” I hoped he heard how much I needed him.
“Can you get away?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay. See you soon.”
The line went dead, and I sat staring at the phone in my hand.
A hot shower and two aspirins later I was making the short drive to his rental home.
Shirtless and sweaty, he opened the door and stood aside. I followed him to his bedroom, which consisted of a black wrought iron bed, abstract paintings leaning against the slate blue walls and partially unpacked boxes. He unwrapped his hands. “I went a couple rounds on the bag while I waited. Make yourself at home. I’ll only be a minute.”
I circled in place, not sure what I’d get from the vacant walls, then removed my jacket and sat on the bed as the water came on in the bathroom.What were we doing?My insides tangled and my feet tapped against the ash-wood floors. It would be my luck to hyperventilate in front of Sebastian.
Minutes later he padded out, still shirtless, in pajama bottoms. He lit candles around the room and dimmed the lights. Droplets of water ran down the center of his wings. “Do you want to talk about what happened in class today? What spurred your headache and caused you to leave school early?” He sat close to me on the bed.
“Not really,” I said, in no rush to admit to my insecure thoughts.
“Have you changed your mind? Because it’s okay if you have.” He rested a hand on my shoulder.
