Page 29 of Crystal Iris
Whatever. It’s not like I know him.
What are you going to do about it?she asks.
I don’t even know what options I have,I write.
You could tell Aaron you aren’t ready to get married yet.
Maybe… though we’ve been together for fifteen years. I don’t think asking for time is going to fly.
He’ll understand,she texts.He loves you.
Maybe. I feel so stressed.
You know what you need? Spiral.
I write back:Tomorrow night?
See you then.
Night x.
I spend the day searching online for any more information on Hoyt, but find little. I learn his brother died when he was seventeen, but the cause of death is vague. Besides obituaries and land deals, there’s nothing else.
It’s noon when I finally notice I smell and realize I haven’t showered yet. I’ve spent the day in bed, on the computer. At least I’ve done something productive. I emailed Elena, asking her to send pictures of the catalog pages—waiting for the post office isn’t an option. Maybe it’s the PMS or yesterday’s conversations, but whatever the reason, I’m in a grumpy mood. Getting ready helps a bit.
I’m not sure Spiral will fix me, but as soon as I step inside, I feel a little better. The music drowns out my thoughts, and it feels great to give myself a break from them.
“To us!” I say, clinking my glass against Akira’s.
We’re moving with the music when I feel my prism warm against my skin. I’m sweaty again, just like last time, and I don’t want to put on a show. I walk to the bathroom to dry off my necklace. Akira follows me. She hands me another paper towel, and a few people glance at us for a second. Nobody cares.
“Why do you think the”—she gestures to the necklace with her eyes—“made you see him?”
“No clue. At first, I thought it meant something, but now I’m leaning toward it being a stupid coincidence.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know. Any ideas?”
“No, but…”
“I told you what Lara said.”
“So?”
“So I don’t have any desire to be just a number on his list,” I say.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go trusting Lara without double-checking yourself.”
“You’re the one who told me to ask her.”
Akira scoffs. “I didn’t say trust her over your intuition.”
“More like common sense.”
She’s reapplying her lipstick, her movements deliberate as always.
“What would you have me do?” I ask. “Are you really saying you’re going to help me again?”
