Page 27 of Twisted Gift

He waves me off. “So, anyway, this date—”

“Is this the redhead from last week?” I remember seeing him with this girl at the pub, looking more than friendly.

He laughs. “Right.” He draws out the word as if he’s recalling the girl. “No, she waswaytoo clingy. I know I’m lovable, but that girl was too much.”

I push the hair out of my face. “Okay, then which girl are you talking about?”

He hesitates. “Charlotte. No, wait, Clarissa.” His brow furrows. “It started with aC.”

I nod, fighting the urge to shove him off my bed. “And what was wrong with her?”

“Nothing waswrongwith her. We had a great time, and then she went home.”

I yawn, blinking a few times to make sure my eyes are still open. “I don’t see the problem.”

“She went home. Her home, not mine.That’sthe problem.”

“Let me get this straight,” I say, sitting up slightly. “Last week you were annoyed because a girl wanted to sleep with you, and this week you’re upset because a girl didn’t want to sleep with you?”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Well, when you say it like that—”

I exhale slowly. “Nikolai, I’m sorry you didn’t get laid tonight. Really, I am, but—”

“You’d sleep with me, right?”

I stare at him.

“If the situation presented itself?”

“I’m not going to stroke your ego, Nikolai. I’m certain you’ve got plenty of girls in some creepy ass fan club or something that could do that for you.”

His eyes sparkle even in the dark of my room. “That’s an interesting idea.”

I roll my eyes. “Great. Will you let me sleep now?”

He huffs out a sigh. “You’re so mean. I’d sleep with you if you needed it, but you won’t offer the same courtesy.”

“Time to go,” I announce, yawning.

“I’ll remember this,” he vows.

“I’m hoping I don’t,” I mumble sleepily.

The bed shifts when he gets up, and the bedroom door closes on his way out.

Once Nikolai manages to convince me everything is as “cool as a goddamn cucumber,” and the war isn’t going to explode in the next few days, I take a much-needed break from Rockdale and go home for the weekend. I haven’t seen my parents since graduation, and I want to visit Adam. It’ll be the first time I’ve visited since his headstone was laid.

Mom and Dad are at a teaching conference until tonight, so I drop my bag at the house when I get to Mapleville and take a cab to the cemetery. I wrap my cardigan around myself as I walk across the manicured grass and sit on a bench a few feet away from Adam’s plot, reading over the engraved words on his stone.

Adam Samuel Marshall

Beloved son, brother, and friend.

Leaning against the back of the bench, I pull my legs up, tucking my knees to my chest, and read the words over and over. They start to blur as my eyes water, stinging with tears. I wish I could talk to Adam right now. I have so much I want to say, so much I want to confide in him. Recalling that dark moment after I became fae when I wished I could’ve stayed with Adam, I take it back. As much as I’ve been struggling with this new life, if I can help the fae find peace, maybe the choices I made to get to this place will be worth it.

Adam would’ve turned thirteen today. The thought makes my chest tighten, and the hole his death left in my heart pulses painfully. He didn’t get the chance to live as a reckless, immature teenager. Not even for a little while.

Closing my eyes, I press my forehead against the tops of my knees and sniffle, blinking as the tears drip onto my leggings. I tip my head back, letting the cool breeze dry my cheeks.

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