Page 11 of Brambles and Bellflowers
My heart raced. I’d been avoiding this subject.
“Anyway, since you suck at meditation, I brought you this.” He nodded again toward the object in my hand. “Obsidian is used to ward against evil, but it’s also a good surface for dowsing.”
“You mean like when you stared at the water?” I asked. “I thought you determined I couldn’t be still.”
“No.” Finn frowned. “I don’t think youcan’t. I think you’re not ready.”
I glared at him.
“Don’t be angry.” He sighed, shoulders slumping as his eyes briefly closed. “It wasn’t fair to expect you to be able to do it on your first try.”
My eyebrow twitched as my temper stirred. How could he tell me not to be angry and insult me in the same sentence? “What do you—”
“You’re always distracting yourself away from your deeper thoughts.” He shrugged, no longer meeting my eyes. “Until you learn to confront that part of yourself, you’ll never be able to meditate.”
“I can meditate.” I pulled the watch against my chest. Having my limitations thrown in my face was the worst feeling in the world.
“Eventually.” Finn rolled his eyes, brushing off my snarl like he always did. “But you just can’tyet. That’s why you should use that.” He glanced at the watch. “Like I said, the obsidian will keep negativity away while you practice.”
Time paused, and a strange sensation—a mixture of understanding and thankfulness—passed over me.
This was Finn. And I was still angry at him.
Why did he have to make it sohardto stay mad?
“What do you want in return?” I glanced around my room. I didn’t have many knickknacks. I usually gave him a glitter penwhen he brought me gifts. I wasn’t sure why, but he seemed to enjoy them.
They didn’t fit his image, though.
“I don’t want anything.” He stared at the floor. “At least not right now. You can pay me back later.”
Darn it. This left me with another outstanding debt. I needed to set up my access to that shared account that Bryce had promised me.
How much money did we have?
“Happy birthday.” Finn pushed a loose lock of his hair back from his eyes. “Sorry I missed it.”
I blinked. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.
“You didn’t miss it,” I muttered. “You just weren’t there.”
Finn exhaled. “Same thing.”
It wasn’t. But I didn’t argue.
Silence stretched between us. The gift felt solid in my grip, the obsidian smooth against my palm. I wasn’t sure if it worked the way he claimed, but the fact that he thought of it—that he still thought of me—made my stomach twist.
I let out a breath and glanced up at him. “Thanks.”
Finn gave a slight, satisfied nod, then flopped onto the window seat as if he’d already decided he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “Don’t mention it,” he said, stretching out.
I sighed. Fine. Just because he stayed didn’t mean I had to entertain him.
“I’m going to keep reading,” I warned him, pulling out my book.
“I don’t care,” he replied, holding up his phone. I glimpsed a chaotic display of red and black on the screen, and he sighed. “I’ve plenty to do. Nobody ever stays on topic.”
I wanted to ask, but he’d never tell me anyway.
