Because a closer look reveals more than a few cracks that are starting to show.
For one thing, there’s just no hiding the fact that Honor’s just as miserable being Haven’s number two as she was being Stacia’s number two—maybe even more so.
For another, while I can’t be too sure, since it’s not like we actually talk or anything, but by the way Stacia keeps glancing at table A with such determination and longing, well, it’s pretty clear she’s getting sick of being protected by a guy who’s immune to her charms and truly only wants to protect her.
And as for Haven, after having hooked up with and discarded just about every guy who’s ever snubbed her in the past, she’s clearly getting bored with the game. She’s also growing increasingly annoyed with the way everyone copies the various looks she works so hard to create, forcing her to invent new, more outrageous ones that ultimately get copied too.
I guess being the alpha chick isn’t quite what she thought it would be. The reality is starting to wear thin, like a job she doesn’t particularly enjoy and wasn’t really all that qualified for in the first place.
I can tell by the way she snaps at her supposed new friends, by the way she rolls her eyes dramatically, heaves these big loud sighs, and sometimes even resorts to foot-stomping tantrums when she’s really, really frustrated and wants them all to know it.
Life at the top is dragging her down, and from what I can tell, Honor is really starting to resent her being there, just like I predicted she would.
Yet it’s also clear that neither one of them has any plan to forfeit their positions. Haven has too much to prove, and Honor, well, while I have no idea what level she might’ve reached in her magick skills now that Jude’s taken a break from tutoring her, regardless of what she’s managed to learn, she’s still no match for Haven and there’s no doubt she knows it.
And even though Miles and I don’t really discuss it, even though I pretty much just stick to the same ol’, day in, day out, boring routine—of training in the morning, remaining vigilant at school, and then training again before bed, only to get up and do it all over again—I know I’m not the only one who notices.
Damen sees it too.
I can tell by the way his gaze is always on me—following me wherever I go. He feels anxious, worried about me.
Worried that she’s starting to lose it—that she’ll blow without warning and decide to come after me.
Worried that I’ll fail to alert him when it happens, even though I promised I would.
And he probably has good reason to worry. She’s strung out. Unruly. She’s a complete and total wreck.
Like a bomb only seconds from detonating.
A thread that’s this close to snapping.
And when it happens, I’ll be the first one she seeks.
Or at least I hope it’s me.
Better me than Jude.
On my way home from school I stop by the store. Despite the fact that Jude asked me to stay away, claiming he can’t bear to have me around until I make a firm decision either way.
Still, I convince myself it’s my duty—that I have a serious obligation to look after him and make sure that he’s safe and okay and all that.
But when I catch myself manifesting a cute new dress and shoes to go with it, just before checking my hair and makeup in t
he rearview mirror, I know that’s only part of it. The other part is I need to see him. Need to see if being around him will spark something in me.
Something I can build on.
Something strong and tangible and defined enough to steer me in the right direction.
I stop just outside the door, fussing with my clothes and my hair once again, before taking a deep breath and going in. Half expecting to find Ava behind the counter, since it’s such a warm and beautiful day, I figure the siren song of all that good surf will be pretty hard for Jude to ignore, but thrilled to find him right there behind the register instead. Laughing and joking as though he hasn’t a care in the world, his face relaxed, his aura green and easy, as he goes about the business of ringing up a customer.
A cute customer.
One whose blazing pink aura tells me she’s only partly there for the books that she’s buying and mostly there to see Jude.
I pause, wondering if I should just leave and come back later, when the door closes behind me, the bell clanks hard against it, and Jude looks past his customer to find me standing only a few feet away. Prompting his eyes to darken, his smile to falter, as his aura grows wavy and dim—pretty much the opposite of how he looked when he was talking to her.
As though the mere sight of me is enough to suck the joy right out of the room.