A Beautiful Dark

Devin with a stare that would set Antarctica ablaze.
    Devin looked at me again, and I could tell there was something he was holding back, something more he wasn’t telling me. Were there choices he was being forced to make that had nothing to do with what he wanted? For the first time, I truly understood how resentful he must have felt toward Asher.
    Why had Devin never joined the Rebellion? Was it a question of duty versus self-sacrifice? If he could give up what he wanted so easily for the sake of the war between the Order and the Rebellion, what else was he capable of doing for the Gifted?
    “Come on.” Asher put his arm around my shoulder and drew me away from the icy blond angel. “You’ve done all you can for today.”
    “No.” Devin’s voice was almost pleading. “No, don’t leave. Please.”
    My stomach twisted. I wanted to do something for Devin, but I was so tired of the pressure.
    “Don’t stand in our way,” said Asher stonily. “I won’t let you push her any harder. You know as well as I do that whatever is to come will come. Whatever is inside of Skye will manifest when the time is right.”
    “You don’t know what you’re doing, Rebel,” Devin spat, and Asher flinched at the surprisingly hateful tone of Devin’s voice.
    “I’m not so sure you do, either,” he said softly.
    “Both of you, enough!” I yelled. My voice echoed off the rocks and boulders and trees and sky. “Stop fighting! Both of you. I can’t stand it! I’m my own person, and I can take care of myself!”
    The clearing, for the first time all day, was silent.
    “I’m ready to leave,” I said into the utter quiet, and it shocked me how loud my voice sounded, how sure of itself.
    With a last glance at the two of them, I turned and walked back through the trees, back toward the path that would take me down the mountain. Soon, I would have to make a choice. It would be Devin on one side, Asher on the other.
    And me, as always, in the middle, struggling for the right way out.
    That night, I decided to follow Cassie’s advice and get dressed up. I rooted around in my closet for the dress she had made me buy the last time we went shopping, and I tried to remember where Aunt Jo kept her good boots. Ten minutes later, I was back in front of the mirror, this time wearing the off-the-shoulder black sweaterdress, black tights, and brown motorcycle boots. My hair was loose and wild, and I’d put on a little makeup. A thrill went through me. I looked good. Who was this person?
    And who, I wondered, did I want to impress?
    When I finally pulled into town, the streets were already lined with cars. I parked in a spot a few blocks down and cut the engine. I sat in the solitary chill of the car, not quite ready to go in. Would Asher and Devin be in there? Tonight all I wanted was a break from everything, a chance to hang out with my friends without Devin breathing down my neck about my so-called powers or feeling heartsick over Asher. With a breath to steel myself, I got out of the car and walked down the street.
    Love the Bean was warm and someone had put the twinkle lights back up. It wasn’t hard to guess who.
    Everything looked soft and lovely and magical. Lately I didn’t even recognize my own life, but standing here, I thought everything felt perfect.
    Cassie was stomping around on the stage in studded black ankle boots, decked out in a totally-inappropriate-for-the-weather sequined minidress, a tiara of tiny violet flowers perched on a messy upsweep of red hair. When she saw me, she gave me the thumbs-up, wiggling her eyebrows seemingly to indicate that she was ready for whatever big risk she had been thinking about taking earlier. I waved and blew her a kiss. I wondered what she was going to do.
    Behind her, the rest of the band was warming up, adjusting the levels of the amps and tuning their instruments. Dan caught my eye from the front row and waved me over.
    “Hey, you made it,” he said, giving me a hug. I noticed his eyes flicking behind me, and I grimaced inwardly.
    “They’re not here,” I said. Dan just looked at me, and I wasn’t sure exactly what more to say.
    “Haven’t seen you a whole lot lately.”
    “Yeah.”
    “I mean, like, other than lunch sometimes.”
    “Yeah . . .”
    He raised his eyebrows.
    “Which is great and all—I cherish our time eating French fries together—but remember when we used to do stuff? And, like, talk?”
    “Dan, I know. I’m . . .”
    “Everything