Page 143 of Cerulean Truth
We made our way back to the training room in silence, and when she dropped me off, I thanked her for the escort. Just as I was about to step inside, she snagged my arm, catching me off guard. I shot her a questioning look, and after a moment's hesitation, she spoke softly.
"I can see how much she means to you... There was a time when I wished for that same level of care from you. But now, I value our friendship above all else. You can always rely on me, even in situations like this. Just make sure she's worth it."
I was touched by her words, by her honesty, and by her concern. I took her hand in mine. "She is..." I whispered, "And so are you. Don't ever settle for someone who doesn't recognize that."
She smiled, her beautiful eyes saddened by my conviction. I hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear about how special she was. I cared for her, just not in the way she wanted, but she was an amazing friend. She kissed my cheek, and we parted when Emma turned the corner.
Emma looked… off. I raised an eyebrow in surprise, but she deliberately ignored me and mumbled a quick thanks to Justine. I held the door open for her, and she walked in with an air of barely-contained fury. Given the raw power she’d shown last night, she could probably unleash hell on earth if she wanted to.
I was confused. We had ended the night on a high note, hadn’t we? The awkward goodbye lingered in my mind, but considering her translating, saving my life, and me carrying her home, surely my stupid reaction hadn’t overshadowed all that?
Walking through the door, I saw her with her arms crossed, waiting for me. Even from across the room, it was clear she had her walls up and was in full-on defensive mode. I guess it had overshadowed everything. I sighed—this was going to be a long day.
THIRTY-SEVEN
EMMA
He had never promised me anything.
I had to keep that in mind, I had to remind myself of it, time after time and I had to repeat it a lot because I kept forgetting it. He had never promised me anything.
Still, his blatant rejection the night before stung like a motherflapper. After everything we had been through, after saving each other’s lives even, he could still not allow any kind of physical affection between us. There was only one conclusion to be drawn: he was not attracted to me. He saw us as merely good friends, and gods did that hurt.
Running to the Human World, fighting with Radicals, saving our lives by finally translating, hurting seven (!) people in the process, with me bleeding out (not really, I was being dramatic), being healed by Justine—of all people—and then being refused by James… it was a lot.
I had spent the entire night without sleep. As I laid awake, I repeatedly attempted to reason with myself, striving to accept and come to terms with his rejection before heading into training the next day. I tried to persuade myself that even if everything between us was a product of my imagination, our strong friendship should suffice. But it didn’t.
And to add insult to injury, the apparent reason for us not being together was in his arms, the moment of my arrival. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but the non-verbal communication was clear enough. With her in his embrace, any lingering doubts vanished. How could I have ever deluded myself into thinking I could compare to her in his eyes? She was a skilled Healer, for crying out loud, while I wasn't even a full maga...
All the insecurities and pain from the previous night rushed back, obliterating any feeble results of my night-long "reasoning." Witnessing Justine in James’s arms brought tears to my eyes, and I had to actively suppress them from spilling over.
The training session that day was a complete disaster, to say the least. Both of us had harbored high expectations for my performance—given the events of the night before—only to be utterly disappointed. Despite all the hurt and drama going around, I still couldn't summon enough energy to translate.
"How is it possible I almost took down seven Radicals last night but can't even translate myself a decent cup of coffee right now?" I fumed.
"I get that you're frustrated−" James began, but I cut him off.
“Really? You get it?” I asked harshly.
“Yes, I do, but you can’t give up now, you’re so close.” He tried to comfort me but I was not having it. Not now. Not when I knew only an hour before, he had been… you know, it didn’t even really matter. I was just really pissed off.
“No I’m not! You’ve said so at least ten times before and we never broke through!” I yelled in frustration.
“You know, just because you’re struggling−” He tried again.
“But I’m not ‘just struggling’ am I ?” I interrupted. “I am the worst maga in the history of all magi! There has never ever been anyone as bad at this as me!”
I have to calm down.
“You say I’m powerful but I only have your word for it because since my arrival here, with the exception of last night, I haven’t even been able to do anything remotely close to what people do here, what children do here, what friggin’ toddlers do here on a daily basis!” I continued my ranting.
"You can't possibly imagine how that feels because you're the golden boy, who's actually meant to lead us all. My Gods, everything you touch just turns to gold! I'm half convinced you don't even need to touch it. You could simply look at it, and it would transform into a giant lump of gold. And then the lump would transform into an elegant swan because you wouldn't even be capable of making something as horrid as a golden lump!"
Not making much sense.
"You're not making any sense," James remarked dryly, which only fueled my frustration, even though I'd been thinking the same thing.
"Oh, well, excuse me," I snarled. "I must’ve missed the episode where they appointed you the sole judge of all things that make sense."
