A Beautiful Dark

dawn light crept in through the blinds. I’d slept so soundly, hardly waking up in the night. It was the most rested I’d felt since turning seventeen. Then I noticed Devin’s arm slipped around my waist, and became aware of his body pressed against mine, moving softly in time with his breathing.
    I was afraid to move for a minute or two. I didn’t want to wake him. Instead I tried to relax, getting used to the feel of his arm around me. Getting used to being held. I closed my eyes again and tried to fall back asleep. It was all I wanted—all I needed, right then. But still something didn’t feel right.
    Carefully I turned to face him. He was fast asleep, and it was funny to see him that way, so unaware of my presence. It made me feel closer to him, somehow. I almost didn’t want to wake him. But I knew I had to.
    I nudged him gently and watched as he groggily opened his eyes. “Hi,” I said.
    “Hi. . . .” He blinked then recognized me. Immediately he pulled his arm away, like I’d burned him. “What are you doing here?”
    “I slept here, remember? Except when we fell asleep, I was over here, and you were waaay over there.” I nodded toward the other side of the bed.
    “Oh.” He laughed, still confused, still half asleep. “Sorry.”
    “S’okay.” I closed my eyes again sleepily, and when I opened them, he was looking at me. Our faces were so close together. Despite everything, I could feel my heart pounding.
    Then Raven’s words echoed sharply in my ears.
    I will always be watching you, Skye.
    Fear suddenly gripped me. Did she know I was here right now? My body spasmed, and I sat up abruptly.
    “Raven . . . what is she to you?” I asked.
    He pushed himself up. “What exactly do you know about Raven?”
    I decided to go with the CliffsNotes version. “She introduced herself to me.”
    He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. “Raven, what are you doing?”
    Crossing my legs beneath me, I turned and faced him squarely. “She’s your girlfriend.”
    “No.” He lifted his gaze. “It’s hard to explain. She is . . . the one for me.”
    “So you love her?”
    “No. I”—he combed his fingers through his hair—“I don’t know what I feel for her. We’re destined to be together, but it’s gotten . . . complicated lately.”
    “Because of me?”
    “Partly.”
    My heart hammered against my chest. I wanted to stay here all day. I wanted to run. I chose to run.
    “I have to go,” I said, flinging myself out of bed. He didn’t protest. I got my boots on and grabbed my jacket from a chair by the door. Before I ran down the stairs, I turned to look at him. He was propped against a pillow. Watching me without the slightest hint of emotion. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the sheets were crinkling around his smooth, chiseled body. My stomach jerked involuntarily. “Bye,” I mouthed, my voice caught somewhere in my throat.
    He didn’t follow me, but when I got outside and was able to breathe again, I heard the lock click into place behind me.

Chapter 28

    T he thought of sitting through homeroom with Asher and Devin one row behind me sent my body into convulsions, so I wandered the halls surreptitiously for a while, figuring if a teacher saw me, she’d probably think I was on my way to the nurse with an advanced case of the flu. It probably looked like it. I felt nauseous and dizzy, my mind caught between too many different things. Finally my legs felt as if they were going to give out from under me, and I found my way to the seldom-used bathroom in the basement by the music rehearsal rooms. Sometimes Cassie and I hung out in there before she went to band practice and I had skiing. Someone who spent a lot of time in those rehearsal rooms had dragged an old armchair into the bathroom by the sinks. The thing had seen better days; its mustard yellow velvet upholstery was threadbare, and stuffing burst forth in several places.
    I loved that chair. I always sat in it while Cassie propped herself up on the sink to do her makeup. Now I opened the bathroom door, threw my bag on the floor, and sank into the chair. It was as if the world-weariness of the old chair opened the floodgates. I started to cry.
    Vaguely I was aware of the door opening and a familiar voice saying, “Lady, you have got some serious explaining to do.”
    I shook my head, hard. Cassie crouched on the floor beside the chair. “I only do this for my most special and loyal people,” she said,