Not this time. I’d take a page out of Courtney’s book. She didn’t filter herself, and neither would I.
Before I could change my mind, I raced across the hall and barged into Courtney’s room. Her bed sat empty.
Cold sweat broke out across my skin. I charged into the hall, where I almost bowled over a maid.
“Don’t get yourself worked up.” The maid sighed. “Honestly.She’s only in the library.”
She gave me directions, and I was off, careening around corners and sliding through doorways.
I found the library and quietly went inside. Utter darkness consumed the room, save for a faint glow from the far side. The glow—candlelight—flickered through tall bookshelves, barely providing me enough light to navigate the room.
The library had that musty, ancient smell to it, a room locked away from time itself. Books overflowed the wooden shelves, dusty tomes stacked in tall haphazard piles. One of Amy’s signature purple robes draped over the back of a chair. He must spend a lot of time here doing various Wizard Tasks.
I weaved among stacks of books and overstuffed chairs until I spied Courtney through a gap in a bookshelf. She sat on a wooden stool at a cluttered desk, one foot pulled under her, a cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Her messy hair stood on end, bright blue, backlit by candlelight. She hunched over a giant book, finger trailing over the page.
I started forward, stubbing my toe against a tower of books. I stifled a curse as it toppled, dust flying and pages scattering over the floor. Courtney whirled.
“Bryce?” She squinted into the darkness. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to tell you something. What areyoudoing in here?” I didn’t know why I was whispering, only that it was a library, and it felt like I should.
Courtney avoided eye contact, faking casual a bit too hard, considering our last interaction. “I’m trying to find information on dragon hunting. No luck so far. I did find this weird potion book, though—”
“Who cares about that,” I said, even though a dragon terrorizing the countryside was arguably a higher priority than my feelings. I strode across the room. “You know what the leading cause of death and trauma is in books? Hint, it’s not what you think.”
Pushing back her stool, she looked up at me. “Gee, BuzzFeed, I don’t know.”
“Miscommunication. It’s miscommunication.” I hoisted myself onto the desk and scooched her stool with my foot until she faced me. “We need to talk this through, but don’t freak out. It’s not like we have to act on anything.”
Courtney pulled her cloak tighter around her nightgown. “Act on… what?”
“From now on, no more hiding things. This is about survival. We need to communicate.” When she nodded, I steadied my resolve and blurted, “That starts with me saying I have a moderate-to-severe feeling. For you.”
Courtney visibly recoiled. “Oh my god, Bryce. It’s not rheumatoid arthritis.” She made a face. “Is this supposed to seduce me?”
I caught her knee and leaned forward. “Courtney, would you listen for a second?” My voice rose to a level that was probably making every librarian alive feel a prickle in their neck. “I’m trying to wax poetic, and you’re being such a dick about it.”
She threw up her hands. “I already know what you’re going to say. I know you think you like me, but you don’t. You really don’t. You only like me because you’re impressed with how hard I’ve been working.”
“If I were attracted to people who worked hard, do you think I’d be attracted toyou?” I scrubbed a hand down my face, regaining control of my soaring emotions. “You know what?” I said, softer. “I’m scared of pretty much everything, but you’re the real coward. You’re so afraid of people finding you unlovable that you’ve made yourself unlovable. You won’t even try.”
“I am unlovable, Bryce. I am what I am, and no one can tolerate it.”
“You are what you are, but you act like you’re not. Hate to break it to you, but you’re still wearing a mask, Courtney, a mask for yourself.”
“Wow, very deep. Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
“Shut up. You are. You pretend not to care about anything, but you steal chairs for people and make daisy chains for little girls and save dying old guys, and you help me view myself and the whole damn world less seriously, and I can tolerate that, Courtney. I’ll tolerate the shit out of you.”
Scrambling off her stool, Courtney gripped my shoulders and gave me a little shake. “You want to communicate? Fine. You’ve built a fantasy of me in your mind, and one day, I’ll let you down. A handful of redeeming qualities doesn’t make me unique or special. I don’t have some deeper insight into the world. I’m just a girl who’stired.” Her eyes shone, refracting glimpses of something shattered within her. “You know why this can’t work? You have abandonment issues, and I have commitment problems. Don’t you see? My favorite thing to do is quit things, and I can’t make promises to someone who deserves promises of forever.”
My heart fluttered in my throat. She cared, and that was the issue. She cared too much.
For the first time in my life, a feeling of wild recklessnessseized me. “Maybe we could learn,” I whispered. “Maybe we’re capable of more than we think. Maybe you’re the type of girl who can keep a promise, and maybe I’m the type of guy who can learn to play tag in the dark.”
I bent to the side and, with one quick puff of air, extinguished the candle.
“Bryce?” Her voice came softly through the shadows.
