Awry

36

Friday night, Scarlet and Heather sat on the floor of Scarlet’s bedroom painting their nails as they talked about boys.

Well, Heather talked about boys. Scarlet half-listened, her mind focused on other, more pertinent, issues.

Nate had been locked in his bedroom—which he referred to as the “cave of concentration”—all week trying to decipher the map to the fountain. Without success. The map was complicated and didn’t match any geographical images Nate had seen before. Had it not been for her father’s journal stating that it was, indeed, a map, they probably would have given up by now.

“I feel like all the boyfriends I’ve ever had were just lame, you know?” Heather’s voice cut into Scarlet’s thoughts. “When you compare them to immortals who fight off Ashmen, they just seem silly.”

“Yeah.” Scarlet finished her left hand and started painting her right. “But I’d take a curse-free relationship any day.”

“Would you?” Heather asked.

“Of course.”

Scarlet’s phone beeped with a text.

Heather looked up. “Is that Gabriel?”

Scarlet grabbed her phone off the nightstand and nodded, keeping her eyes on the screen as she texted him back.

Heather tilted her head. “Gabriel’s cursed to never know love without you, right?”

Scarlet nodded again.

“So, he’s like…forced to love you?”

Scarlet’s heart felt heavy as she looked up. “No. I mean yes. I mean…he says no, but it feels like yes.”

Wow. That sounded confusing.

Heather started blowing on her nails and pulled a magazine off of Scarlet’s bed. “Well, which is it?”

Good question. Great question, actually.

“Honestly?” Scarlet sighed, watching Heather flip through the magazine, careful not to disturb her wet fingers. “I don’t know.”

Heather looked up with puckered lips. “Don’t you think that’s weird? Don’t you think that makes your relationship…fake?”

Scarlet was about to get defensive and argue that what she and Gabriel had was real. And hot, of course.

But she couldn’t.

Because, even if their relationship was real, it was still controlled by the curse. And the curse sucked.

Heather skimmed a few glossy pages and muttered, “See how no one in this magazine is wearing clogs? Yeah, that’s a hint, Scarlet.”

Scarlet wasn’t listening. “I’m stupid.”

Heather considered. “I wouldn’t say that. You just have trouble picking out footwear, that’s all—”

“Gabriel can’t love me,” Scarlet said absently.

Heather looked up, confused. “I thought you were the only person he could love.”

Scarlet looked at Heather. “Exactly.”

Jumping up from the bed, Scarlet started searching for her shoes. Not by the door…not under the window….

“What are you doing?” Heather blew on her nails again.

Scarlet looked under her bed. Nope.

“Something I should have done the day I found out about the curse.” Scarlet walked the perimeter of her bedroom.

Finding her shoes—which were not clogs—kicked off by the closet, Scarlet slid her feet into them and hurried out of her room.

As she headed down the stairs, she heard Heather call out, “I hate how you always leave me sitting in your bedroom without explanation!”

Scarlet called back, “Love you!”

She smiled to herself as she heard Heather mutter, “Yeah, yeah. Love you, too. Whatever.”