Wait to see if they’l let me graduate.
Wait to see which direction my future might take.
The days ticking past with smal bits of news trickling in—but not the news that I want.
There is no word from Damen.
thirty-nine
Maybe I bought into the hype.
Maybe I built it up way too much in my head.
But in the end, I’m sorry to say that graduation is, wel , a little anticlimactic.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s wel organized, flowing along just fine. In fact, it’s a lot like you see in movies and on TV with al the caps, and gowns, and speeches, and laughter, and tears, and reminiscing, and fervent promises to stay in touch. But despite Sabine and Munoz perched in the crowd smiling and waving every time I look their way (and even when I don’t), despite Miles and Honor and (stil shocking to me but I’m starting to get used to it) Stacia, catcal ing and clapping and cheering me on when it’s my turn to head for the stage—
there’s no Haven. No Damen.
And it’s those two glaring absences that pretty much eclipse everything else.
So when I throw my cap in the air, I seize the chance to work a bit of magick. Making it sail way up high into the sky, much higher than anyone else’s, and watching as it loops first into the shape of a tulip and then into the shape of an infinity symbol, before I let it go, watching it free-fal back to the ground.
And I’m just making my way toward Sabine and Munoz when Stacia finds me in the crowd, places her hand on my arm, and says,
“So, see you at the party?” She flips her fingers through her long, blond-streaked hair and settles her eyes on mine.
I squint, taking in her bright yel ow aura, amazed to see she’s sincere.
And before I can answer, Honor catches up and says, “We figured we’d stop by a little early, help you set up.”
I look at her and Stacia, wondering when I’m ever going to get used to this new side of them. Despite their combined efforts to help me get to this point, every kind gesture they make stil comes as a great shock to me, and I know that’s not at al fair. They’re working so hard to improve the least I can do is let them.
Stacia cocks her head, waiting for me to respond, while Honor fidgets with her finger, twisting Jude’s malachite ring back and forth.
“Um, that’s real y sweet and al , but you guys don’t have to come. Real y.” I nod, hoping they won’t take it the wrong way, but I’m not sure I want them there. “I mean, I’m sure you have better things to do, better parties to go to, so…”
“Better than this party? Doubtful!” Stacia shoots me one of her old you’re crazy looks, then remembering she doesn’t do that anymore, she quickly clears her face. “Besides, we already have our costumes and everything!” She glances at Honor standing beside her, nodding in agreement. “After al we’ve done to help you graduate—you can’t disinvite us now!”
I gape, surprised she would say that since I don’t exactly remember ever inviting them. But then, I also wasn’t in charge of the invitations, the twins were. Nor did I know there’d be costumes. In fact, I have no idea how this happened, how they even know about it, how it got so blown out of proportion. I mean, original y, this was just supposed to be a nice smal gathering. Immortals only. I had no idea it’d turned into the grad night to end al grad nights. The year’s most anticipated event.
“I worked real y, real y hard on my costume,” Stacia says, her voice accusing. “So no way wil you keep me from wearing it.
Everyone’s gonna flip when they see it!”
“Jude’s is a surprise,” Honor says. “Though he says it won’t be a surprise to you, since you’ve already seen it.” She looks at me in a way that lets me know she pretty much knows everything there is to know about Jude and me and stil isn’t sure how she feels about it.
“But I’ve got a little surprise of my own. Something Romy and Rayne helped me come up with; I’m pretty excited about it. Trust me, Ever, this party is going to be epic. And you’re crazy if you think either one of us would miss it!”
Costumes?
Epic?
And here I thought it was all about convincing a bunch of eternals to eat the fruit.
“You saw the invites, right?” Stacia asks, her eyes moving over me.
I shake my head, realizing too late that I didn’t. Al I saw was the pink-and-black envelope I left near the pond. It never occurred to me to peek inside. I’ve been so overwhelmed with al the catching up I had to do to get to this point that I never thought to ask questions. I never offered to pitch in with the planning, or even inquired into how it was going. Everyone seemed so happy to take over that I happily left it to them. Thinking that al I had to do was to show up on time with the fruit—but now apparently I need a costume too.