Page 32 of Twisted Fate

“What are you doing here?” Adam asks.

“My daughter wanted to come look for some new video game she’s been saving up for.” She laughs. “I left her scouring the electronic store. She could spend all day there, so I thought I’d walk around a bit.”

“Cool,” Adam says with a grin. The kid beams at the mention of video games. We step up to the counter and order our fro-yo, Adam picking his favorite cookie dough flavor, and I go for a tart green apple.

Adam waves goodbye to Dr. Collins, and she says, “See you next week.”

I haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about the treatment yet, and I’m not sure how to bring it up or whether I should, but I imagine he’s scared. Anyone would be.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask him as we enjoy our frozen treat.

He pokes at the fro-yo with his spoon. “Not really.”

“We don’t have to, but I want you to know that I’m here if you ever change your mind.”

He finally smiles, which loosens the knot in my stomach a bit. “Thanks, Roar.”

Adam and I spend the rest of the day together, popping in and out of stores, chatting about my classes and his friends. We grab dinner on the way home—Chinese food from Mom and Dad’s favorite place downtown—and we all eat together in the dining room.

I sit there, enjoying a chicken ball drenched in sweet-and-sour sauce, and smile at my family. My thoughts trickle back to Tristan and the mess that I’m going back to at school. I didn’t get any answers from coming home like I’d hoped. I can’t say anything about it, which makes it harder to bear. I doubt Tristan would take kindly to more humans knowing about the fae, not that I think my parents would believe me, even though my dad apparently has fae ancestors. They’d blame it on stress and sign me up for therapy. Adam would believe me, though. The kid has a killer imagination. He believes in almost everything.

Looking at them now is making me want to stay. I wasn’t homesick much in the past, but I feel it now, even more so considering Adam’s new diagnosis. The urge to stay is strong, but the growing need for answers is slowly overpowering it. I don’t want to think about it, but it’s looking more and more like there’s only one person I can go to for those answers.

“What time do you have to leave tomorrow?” Adam asks between giant mouthfuls of fried rice. Man, that kid can eat. He’s already on his second plate, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop anytime soon. I’m glad he hasn’t lost his appetite.

“Early afternoon. I have some things I need to deal with before my week starts.” Things like figuring out why the hell Max was looking for me and how he knows where I live on campus.

“Your sister is going to be busy over the next couple of months,” Mom says with a smile. “We’re all so proud.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Dad cleans up after dinner, and Adam follows me to my room to hang out while I pack the few things I brought home with me.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he says.

“I know. I don’t want to go back, either.” I peek over at him and smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll be home to visit as soon as I can.”

If I survive this week.

Monday mornings suck. Okay, Mondays in general suck, but this morning specifically sucks harder than usual. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and it isn’t because Tristan showed up—because he didn’t. Which is a good thing, considering there’s a high chance I would’ve punched his stupid, perfect face for invading my unconscious thoughts. Dealing with him when I’m awake is enough.

Every time I came close to falling asleep, I would remember what was waiting for me this morning, and I would be wide awake again, filled with dread and nerves.

When my alarm goes off at six o’clock, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Should I drop out of school? If there were any other way to get this credit to graduate, I would be all over it, butmy mentor is a dangerously charming, yet infuriatingly arrogant fae leaderisn’t exactly a believable excuse to be exempt.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, followed by my regular morning routine of showering and blow drying my hair before getting ready the rest of the way.

Our door opens, and Allison walks in, holding a tray with two cups of coffee and a bag in her hand. “Morning,” she says, setting the tray on my desk. “I brought coffee and muffins. Today is a big deal for you, so I wanted to start it off right.”

Despite the slight nausea in my stomach, I smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did.” She hands me a coffee. “I have class in...five hours anyway.” She presses her lips together against a smile.

I take a small sip, hoping my stomach won’t reject it. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Whatever I can do to make today a little less difficult for you.”

I wrap her in a one-armed hug and squeeze her shoulders. “You’re the best.”

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