Page 45 of Touch the Sky
“Fine,” I say. “Then I’m tacking the horses up for you and coming along for the ride as your back-up.”
She scoffs. “My back-up? Are we superheroes?”
“Call it whatever you want, but I’m coming with you.”
She goes quiet for a moment. I can see her working her jaw back and forth. I hold my breath, waiting for the tide to turn.
Then she shakes her head.
“Merci, but I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
Maybe I’m pushing things too far. Maybe I shouldn’t be pushing at all.
It’s not my business, but somehow, the thought of Jacinthe hurting herself when I could have done something to stop it feels like itismy business. Even if I tried to turn around and march back up to the house, I’m not sure I could.
As if to prove her point, Jacinthe gets to her feet.
As if to prove mine, she wobbles. She takes a few shaky steps to try and catch her balance, but it’s no use.
I lunge forward and grip her by the shoulders before she can topple over.
“You’re very clearly not fine,” I hiss, my heart pounding as I squeeze her shoulders hard.
Our faces are close enough for me to see the way the evening light catches in her irises, warming them from dark pitch to molten brown.
She stares back at me, lucid but still with that glazed disorientation, her pupils flared wide.
My gaze flicks down to the curve of her bottom lip: taut, peachy-pink skin and the flash of her teeth behind it.
My throat goes dry.
We’re so close now.
Too close.
Some small part of my brain still has the wherewithal to raise the alarm. I release Jacinthe’s shoulders and lurch away like I’ve grabbed a hot pan straight out of the oven.
Jacinthe clears her throat. She’s staring down at the tips of her boots, her chest straining with heavy breaths.
“I just need some food,” she blurts, her voice tight.
“Yes.” I sound wheezy. “Yes. You should eat.”
She starts marching up the driveway, avoiding my eyes when she swerves past me. She’s halfway to the house when Iremember I’m still on a mission here. I jog a few paces to catch up with her.
“Hey!” I call. “Tell me who to tack up while you eat.”
She spins around to face me, hands on her hips.
“You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?”
I square off, mirroring her pose. “Nope.”
She tosses her head like a horse shaking off a fly. Then she sighs.
“Okay.”
