Night Star

nineteen

If I were to make an assumption based solely on the look and feel of the parking lot, well, I’d probably assume that all is as fine and well and normal as it ever will be.

I’d also assume that this morning’s early training session/workout—the one that left all of my muscles quivering—was a total waste of time and that I should’ve just slept in instead.

But from everything Miles has told me, I need to venture a little farther than the overcrowded lot that looks more like a luxury car dealership than an area reserved for student parking.

I need to go past the wrought-iron gates and into the heart of the school, where, according to him anyway, the real story lives.

And even then, he says it’s probably only truly shocking to those in the know, since all of the teachers and administrators remain pretty much oblivious to the new social order.

“And, Ever,” he says, turning to me as I head for my intended space, the best in the bunch, the one Damen used to save for me that now, for some strange reason, has been taken over by Haven. “That’s not all. There’s a little more to it, something else you should know.”

“Sing it.” I smile, pulse racing as I focus on Roman’s shiny red Aston Martin that Haven now drives.

“Not everything is quite what it may seem at first glance.” He studies me, carefully, cautiously, making sure that I’m listening before he goes on to say, “So…just try to keep that in mind, okay? Don’t rush to judgment. Don’t make any snap assumptions should you…or, I guess I should say, when you…come across something like that. Okay?”

I squint, pushing my hair off my face, saying, “Spill it, Miles. Seriously, whatever it is you’re dancing around, just say it, simple and clean. Because, honestly, I have no idea what you’re getting at.” Narrowing my gaze and reading into his energy, his tremulous, wavering aura, a sure sign that something’s up, but still maintaining my vow to respect his privacy by stopping right there, not even considering trespassing on his innermost thoughts.

But it’s not like he knows that. All he can see is my deep, piercing stare, and it sends him straight into a panic.

“Hey, stop that!” he shouts. “You promised you wouldn’t do that without my permission. Remember?”

“Relax.” I dismiss the thought with a wave of my hand. “I wasn’t reading your mind. Not even close. I mean, sheesh! What does it take to get a little trust around here?”

Mostly mumbling that last part to myself, but for some reason, it prompts him to say, “Trust goes both ways, Ever, just remember that, okay? That’s pretty much what I was getting at earlier.”

I shrug, moving past Miles’s intentionally coy and cryptic warning and on to my real mission. Closing my eyes just long enough to do what it takes to prove to a certain someone just who’s the real boss around here. Seeing the red Aston Martin banished to a faraway corner, as I punch the gas and quickly claim the newly vacated space.

Prompting Miles to gasp, turning to me when he says, “Wow. I think I forgot how much I like carpooling with you.” He shakes his head and laughs. “In fact, I actually really missed it. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m eager for the car to get out of the shop so I can get my freedom back and all that, but still, there’s nothing like the way you manipulate the traffic light patterns to go green when you need them to and red when you don’t, the way you convince all the other drivers to get out of your way and merge into another lane so you can take their place, and how you just take whatever parking space you set your sights on, whether it’s occupied or not. Like now, for instance.” He shakes his head and sighs. “I gotta tell ya, Ever, that sort of thing never really happens when I’m out on my own.”

But even though he meant it as a joke, something about it really shakes me. Everything he just mentioned, all of those tricky maneuvers, were taught to me by the stealth-driving master himself—Damen. And I can’t help but wonder where he stands in all this.

“Miles—” I pause, my voice sounding much smaller than I intended. Dropping my hands from the wheel and clasping them in my lap as I say, “Exactly where is Damen these days?” I turn, noting the concern that quickly clouds his gaze. “I mean, why is he allowing Haven to do this—to park here and whatever else she’s up to? Why isn’t he fighting back in some way?”

Miles looks away, taking a moment to compose himself, his words, before he faces me again. His hand on my arm, squeezing gently when he says, “Trust me, he is fighting back. In his own concerned-citizen, good karma kind of way. That’s sort of what I meant when I said you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Not everything is as black and white as it first seems…”

I stare at him, waiting for more, but he just clamps his lips shut and runs an imaginary zipper across them. And I can’t believe he’s going to leave it like that, leave me hanging like that.

“That’s it?” I look at him and shake my head. “That’s how you’re gonna leave it? All vague and noncommittal, and up to me to figure out on my own, without a heads-up?”

“That was your heads-up,” he says, clearly committed to leaving it there.

I sigh and close my eyes, but I don’t get upset, don’t read his mind, don’t press any further. He’s got my best interests at heart, convinced he’s trying to spare me from something. So I decide to let it go. Aware of something he’s not—that whatever it is, I can face it.

Nothing can break me anymore.

He flips down the mirrored visor and squints at his reflection, combing his fingers through his longish, glossy, brown hair—the cool new look I’m still getting used to—and checking his teeth, his nostrils, his profile (both sides), before deeming himself ready for the public and slapping the visor back up again.

“Are we ready?” I reach for my bag as I open my door, his nod prompting me to add, “But just so we’re clear, whose side are you on?”

He tosses his backpack onto his shoulder and shoots me a look. The glint in his gaze a perfect match for his smile when he says, “Mine. I’m on my side.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t kidding. Nor was he exaggerating. On the one hand, everything is totally and completely different—a radical shift has clearly taken place. While on the other, to the less observant among us (aka the teachers and administrators), everything appears exactly the same.

The “senior tables” are still populated by seniors—only now it’s the ones who were never allowed to even walk past, much less sit there before.

And instead of a bitchy, blond fashionista holding court—a bitchy, brunette fascist has taken her place.

A bitchy, brunette fascist whose gaze targets me the second Miles and I step past the gate.

Glancing away from her adoring group of fans just long enough to narrow her eyes and clench her jaw as she quickly takes us in. The look lasting for only a second before she’s turned back to them, but it’s still enough to give Miles pause.

“Great,” he mumbles, shaking his head. “It looks like I’ve just unofficially chosen sides.” He winces. “Or at least that’s what she clearly thinks.”

“No worries,” I whisper, gaze scanning the area, searching for Damen even though I try to pretend I’m merely refamiliarizing myself with the school grounds. “I promise I won’t—”

I see him.

Damen.

“—I promise I won’t let her—”

I swallow hard and drink him right in.

Lounging on a bench, long legs splayed out before him, resting back on his hands as he tilts his gorgeous face toward the sun…

“—I promise I won’t let her hurt—”

I struggle to finish, but it’s no use. I know the instant I see it that this is what Miles was so covertly trying to warn me about.

Not wanting to state it bluntly, correctly assuming I’d freak—pretty much just like I am—but not wanting me to just stumble upon it either and feel sucker-punched in the very worst way.

Miles did what he could—I’ll give him that. He did his best to spare me this brand of pain. But still, no matter how much he tried to prepare me, there’s just no denying a sight like this.

When I said that nothing could break me, I was wrong.

Dead wrong.

But then again, I never really imagined I’d find him like this.

He talks to her softly, his face gentle and kind, distracting her from the cruel comments and looks that come from just about everyone who passes by. But as long as Damen’s there, that’s as bad as it’ll get. No one will dare venture anywhere near. His presence alone is what keeps them away. Keeps her safe.

As long as he’s with her, she’s spared from their wrath.

But it’s not like understanding why he does it makes it any easier to watch. And every second I stand there—a part of me withers.

A part of me dies.

Miles grabs hold of my elbow, determined to steer me away, but it’s no use. I’m stronger than him and I refuse to be swayed.

Knowing it’s just a matter of moments until he’ll sense my presence, my energy. And even though my insides are churning, my heart breaking, my hands shaking, even though I’m terrified of what I might find in his gaze once he does locate me—I still need it to happen.

Need to know what it means.

Need to know if she now occupies the space I once filled in his life.

When he sees me, when his eyes go wide and his lips part in a way that completely transforms him—my breath stalls in my throat.

The moment feeling like forever, like it’s somehow suspended in time. Though it’s not long before she sees it too, following his gaze all the way to me before quickly looking away. Her former surplus of confidence now diminished for good.

“Ever—please,” Miles urges, his voice at my ear. “Remember what I told you. Nothing is what it seems. Everything’s been turned upside down. The former D list is now the A list—and the old A list, well, they’ve pretty much disbanded, most of them are in hiding, some have even left. Nothing is the same anymore.”

But even though I hear it, the words flow right through me.

I don’t care about any of that. I only care about Damen and the way his gaze circles mine.

And though I wait for it—a tulip, either real or imagined, or some other kind of sign—nothing comes.

Nothing but the infinite silence that stretches between us.

So I lean into Miles and allow him to lead me away.

Lead me right past the sight of them.

Right through my pain.