Perhaps even pity.
He was just making sure I had somewhere to be—that I wouldn’t make any more trouble—so he could head off on his much-anticipated vacation with no further thoughts of me.
I was the very last item on his to-do list.
A terrible realization that made all the nice words die right on my tongue. While the words that sprang up to replace them were anything but.
“So,” I said, still petting Buttercup as my gaze fixed hard on Bodhi. “The Council seemed pretty dang happy with all of my accomplishments. Bet that came as a big shock to you, huh?” I paused, waited for him to reply, hoping he’d volley right back with something sarcastic so I could return it with something even worse.
I was looking for a fight. There was no getting around it. Mostly because I would not, could not, stand for him to pity me. That just wouldn’t do.
Bodhi squinted, stared at me for a good long bit. And when he did finally speak, his voice was so casual you’d think he’d misunderstood the tone of my words. “Why do you say that?” he asked, the green straw sliding across his front teeth.
“Um, maybe because they congratulated me?” I said, stealing a moment to tack on a nice, dramatic eye roll to go with it. My energy growing so heated, so riled up and angry, it wasn’t long before Buttercup whined and scooted away from me.
But if Bodhi was fazed, he sure didn’t show it. Instead he just laughed. Well, it was actually more of a cross between a laugh, a huff, and a grunt, but anyway, he just made a sound, tucked the straw in the side of his mouth, and said, “No, what I meant was, why did you say that bit about my not being happy for your accomplishments?”
“Uh, because you’re not?” I made a face, frowning even more as I watched Buttercup scooch closer to Bodhi and farther from me.
Bodhi shrugged, gazed all around, as his knee picked up the tempo, jiggling so fast it practically blurred.
And that’s when I got it.
That’s when I completely understood.
It was worse than I’d thought.
Bodhi hadn’t been waiting for me. This had nothing to do with me. He’d been waiting for someone else to catch up with him.
I swear, if I’d still been alive, that would’ve been the exact moment when my cheeks would’ve burned so bright I would’ve had no choice but to run and hide. But, as it was, I stayed put, looking at him when I said, “Surely you remember what you said just before we came here? That because of me, because of my insistence on disobeying your rules—‘we may never glow again.’ You said that the Council can ‘give and take at will.’ You said all of that, and yet, check it out—I still got my glow on!”
I thrust my arm toward him, hoping he’d take a good look. But it was no use. His attention was claimed. He was already moving away.
I watched as he ran a hand over his hair and his clothes. Trying to appear jaunty, self-assured, totally and completely in control, but I knew him well enough to know better. He was making a colossal effort to hide a major case of nerves.
Though it’s not like she noticed.
Oh, no. She was too busy swinging her long, shiny black braids. Too busy adjusting her sweater and straightening her short, pleated skirt. Too busy smiling, and waving, and looking really cute.
And even though I should’ve known, even though I should’ve guessed by the way she shouted and catcalled the loudest at that weird graduation ceremony I attended when I first got Here, I had no idea that the girl I’d mentally referred to as cheerleader girl (mostly because of the cheer-leading outfit she always wears)—I had no idea that she and Bodhi were friends.
I guess I was hoping she and I could be friends.
But now it was clear that was not meant to be.
And just when I thought I couldn’t feel any lower, I watched Buttercup race toward them like the worst kind of traitor.
I shoved two fingers into my mouth and whistled for him to return.
And when he didn’t, when he completely ignored me, I whistled again.
And when he still didn’t return, I manifested a handful of his very favorite doggy biscuits as a bribe—praying it would work, and feeling ridiculously relieved when it did.
He slumped toward me, snatched the biscuits right off my palm, then turned away to eat them, as though I couldn’t be trusted. As though I might change my mind and try to yank them right back, even though I’d never done so before.
I knelt by his side, watching Bodhi and cheerleader girl talk, and laugh, and use any excuse they could think of to tap each other on the shoulder, the arm, the hand. A scene that reminded me of the times I used to spy on my big sister, Ever, and her boyfriend. Telling myself I was merely studying for when it would be my turn to be a teen—that I wasn’t invading her privacy—remembering how they acted the very same way.
And if I thought my insides felt bad before, watching Bodhi and cheerleader girl flirt with each other, well, it left me feeling all hollow and weird.