Page 73 of Pierce Me

She’s here. Eden is here. She followed me.

She’s standing outside the door, on the terrace with the crowds. Some of their faces are lit yellow in the lamplight spilling out of the attic, and I see her suddenly, standing there, leaning against the wall, her hair a tousled mess, her cheeks flushed as if from running and her honey eyes round saucers fixed on mine. The guitar falls from my fingers, and it’s only when I hear the “clunk” that I realize I’ve dropped it.

The next thing I know, Eden has turned around, her cheeks turning even redder, and is reaching for the door. The blood drains from my face, and I’m shouldering my way through chairs and legs and hands, reaching out to grab me and congratulate me—and possibly to ask me if I am who I sound like, judging by the whispers of ‘Issy Woo, it’s Issy Woo’.

Outside, a soft rain has begun to fall, the moon a ghostly glow behind the clouds. The night sky is white with them. The attic’s windowpanes are blurry with raindrops, and as soon as I step outside, a blast of cool air hits me in the face. Raindrops splash against my nose, get in my lips, my hair. The rain smells earthy and clean, and the stone steps are glistening wet in the dark. The students shriek and lift their jackets for cover as I scan their faces in the darkness, looking for Eden.

I spot her, running down the slippery steps, and take off after her.

“Hey!” I yell, and slip and almost fall on my face. She doesn’t stop. “Eden! Stop! Eden?” I raise my voice, but her hair keeps flying behind her, and she never once turns around. “Slow down. You’ll fall.”

Or get lost, but hey, we’re already lost.

I run after her through streets so narrow, my shoulders don’t fit and I have to turn sideways, which slows me down a bit. By the time I come out the other side, Eden is a small dot on the dark horizon. The rain is growing stronger, but I barely notice.

I scream her name and keep running.

We run through theSpianadaand into the narrow streets between the Venetian houses, stone arches echoing our hurried steps, lines heavy with laundry hanging above our heads, dripping with rain. I get lost on the way to thePorto Vecchio, but when the buildings clear out and I see the sea, glistening black in the distance, I finally spot her silhouette, running a few hundred yards away.

“Eden!”

I run faster until finally, I’m close enough to hear her boots slap the wet stones. We’ve somehow found the sea, and she’s running on the waterfront, her steps mere inches from the black, serpent-like port waters.

“Eden!” I scream. “You’ll fall in.”

I’ve never been so scared in my life. I mean, except for the part where I’ll eventually catch up to her. What will I do then? MaybeIshould slip and fall into the water. Drifting under the icy waves sounds like a far cleverer idea than actually talking to her right now.

I mean, at least the water I have a chance of surviving.

“Wait! Eden. Eden.”

I finally catch up to her, swallowing raindrops and the bittersweet taste of her name on my lips. A searing pain tears through my chest. Is that what a heart attack feels like? I’m gasping for breath as I grab her by the shoulder and bring her away from the quay.

We end up nose to nose, rain splashing off our clothes, our breaths mingling as we pant from running all the way downhill to the sea.

“Eden,” I murmur.

There’s water running down her cheeks, and her curls are heavy with water, diamond droplets trembling on every strand. She looks like a mermaid and I have to fight the urge to drop to my knees in front of her and beg her to take me back. Instead, I quickly take off my jacket and hold it over her head, like I used to do back in our woods.

She didn’t look super thrilled then, and she doesn’t look super thrilled now.

“I won’t melt in the rain.” Her lips are cherry-red and glistening with water. Trembling a little, too.

“I don’t intend to find out,” I reply. “Did you follow me up all those stairs?”

“Someone had to,” she replies, looking down. Her shoulders are shaking. Is she that cold? Or is it something else? “You left without telling anyone. That was stupid.” She lifts her head and fixes me with her eyes. Is she worried about me?

“Oh, and you came along to protect me?” I mock-laugh. It comes out like a sob.Smooth.

“I know I could do nothing to help if you were surrounded by a mob, but I have this.” She takes her phone out of her pocket. She’s wearing a long-sleeved sweater that’s getting soaked and clinging to her like second skin. “At least someone knew where you are.” She’s still panting. I drape my jacket around her.

“So that’s it, you came after me because you were worried.”

“Why else,” again she fixes me with those eyes, and I swear, I want to die, “would I come to Greece at all? You’re the only reason.”

What did she just say?

Before I can start even processing the words that just blew my world apart, she shrugs off my jacket and starts walking away.

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