Page 31 of Endless Anger
I stare at her for several seconds, a frown firm on my lips.What the hell has she gotten herself into?
“Lucy would be okay if I weren’t there,” I note quietly. “Right? She’s not an Anderson. They’d have no reason to target her if I didn’t go too.”
Quincy’s eyes shimmer. “Well, I guess so, yeah. If she’sreallydead set on attending, she’d probably be fine without you by her side. But is that something you’d be okay with?”
I don’t have much of a choice. Lucy’s mind is made up, and if I try to convince her not to go now, she’s going to assume I’m just being an asshole and making all this up to keep her from gaining any independence.
She doesn’t know how much her choices and freedom matter to me. It’sallI fucking care about, and this is the most important thing to her right now. Independence and getting away from the shadow of her reputation, her family, the inside of her own head.
Avernia would be okay for her without me.
That’s how I justify this betrayal, at least.
8
LUCY
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
The wide whiteenvelope is heavy in my hand as I sprint up the paved drive of the Asphodel. On the southern side of Aplana Island, the Andersons’ stone mansion looms over its secluded beach like a haunted gray landmark, the corners hidden by shadows this time of night.
Crunching noises fill the air as I step off the pavement, darting around the house like I’ve done a million other times before. Until my senior year, this was the routine.
I feel a little dizzy as I stop beneath a darkened window on the second floor in the back. Adrenaline still courses through me, buzzing, from my rush to get over here and reveal the good news.
At least I think it’s good news. Dad says colleges don’t send big envelopes if they’re rejecting you.
Since this is my dream, I’m choosing to believe he isn’t lying.
Wrenching my cell from my pocket, I send a quick text, even though I know the recipient despises that form of communication. He always wants face-to-face interactions or nothing else, which is why I spent so much of my childhood totally wrapped up in his orbit.
There was never any other way to maintain his friendship.
Me:I’m outside. Come down or open up. Have something to show you!
I pretend there aren’t a dozen unanswered messages already from the last week.
It’s a little chilly tonight, so when I don’t get an immediate reply, I stuff my phone back into my coat and bury my fingers beneath my armpits.
Despite the cold, I’m positively giddy. If I concentrated hard enough, I could probably use my excitement to scale the side of the mansion and just propel myself into his room, but the rope ladder Asher keeps tucked under his bed is safer.
I wait, hopping from one leg to the other. We saw each other earlier, but the mail hadn’t run yet. I’d been perched at my bedroom window all afternoon waiting and ran out the second our postman showed up, snatching the envelope before anyone else could see that it’d come.
Asher must’ve gotten his too. Since he graduated last year, he’s been doing random odd jobs with his parents, helping his mom with book tours or his dad with… Well, I don’t really know what they do, since his dad’s a retired physician, but I imagine it’s busywork. Whatever keeps Asher out of trouble.
But we decided to tackle Avernia next fall. Together.
There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side for this next chapter.
Even though we’ve been seeing much less of each other since Foxe’s party, my sentiment remains. Supper earlier this evening was a bit awkward, but considering the thousands of arguments we’ve had and moved past, I know this is just a little blip on the radar.
Still, something quietly aches in the center of my chest. Heartbreak in physical form as I involuntarily recall the party.
Asher’s face, bright red and stunned, as he pulls his lips from mine.
The back of his head as he scrambled away, like he couldn’t run from my kiss fast enough.
My brain flips through the memories like snapshots.
