Page 21 of Spark of Sorcery
“Then you know if you mean it you should probably say the words.”
“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“And …” she says, a slight smile playing on her lips.
“And?” I say, shrugging.
“You’re sorry for being an asshole?”
“Yes, that too.” She tilts her head to one side. “Okay, I’m also sorry for being an asshole.”
I give her a smoldering look I know has most girls creaming their panties. She lifts an eyebrow expectantly.
“Anything else?” she prompts.
“Erm …” I rack my brain. What else have I fucked up? “The stuff about your sister, there may be some merit in your theory given someone manipulated the trial and you were trapped inside for much longer than you should have been.”
“So you don’t think that was an accident too?” she says, her voice full of sarcasm.
“No, I don’t.”.
“Hmmm,” she says, her eyes flicking away from me as she stares down at the hands in her lap. “Have you seen the scores?”
“I haven’t.” No point. I know I did well. I know where I’m going to end up. It’s my destiny.
“I …” she swallows, “I scored zero points.”
“What?” I say, even though I heard her perfectly well the first time.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, the anger rising in her voice again. “I knew I wasn’t going to score well. I know they’re going to send me back to Slate.”
“No, they’re not.”
She laughs. “Zero points, Beaufort. Zero! Even if I score really well in the next few trials, there is no way I’m making that up.”
“There must be some kind of mistake.”
“No. This is what happens to people like me. It doesn’t matter how good we are, we all end up back in Slate.”
“I’ll look into it,” I tell her. “I’m already looking into who manipulated the trial.”
She looks back up at me. “You are?” I nod. “Thank you,” she says. “I appreciate that.”
Which was not what I was expecting her to say at all. Maybe Dray was right for once after all.
“Thank you?” I venture. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“I’m not sure.”
“While you’re thinking it over, will you at least come sit on my lap and make out with me?”
She spins her gaze around the interior of the car.
“Have you made out with a lot of girls in this car?”
“A few,” I lie. I reach over and take a hold of her hips in my hands, dragging her across to my seat so she’s straddling my lap. “None turned me on as much as you do.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I find that very hard to believe.”
