“It’s just for a few more months,” he grumbled, and fell back to sleep.
He was right, of course. All she needed to do was graduate, and then she and Rowan could move out of town, maybe get a place of their own. Or they could go to college together. With the help of a little magic, Lily had no doubt they could forge a past for Rowan, complete with a social security number and school records. They could be anything they wanted in this world—all Lily had to do was survive high school.
They lay together as the sun came up. Rowan’s dreams were scattered images. When Lily pieced them together she realized he was dreaming about his own schooling. Tristan was there, and Gideon. There was a lot of fire, smoke, salt, and silver. Cauldrons bubbled and strange dragon-like creatures flew down torch-lit passageways. They weren’t happy dreams, nor were they nightmares. It was as if Rowan were picking up on Lily’s anxiety and dreaming it out for her. Lily laughed silently to herself. He was even dreaming for her now. Lily didn’t wake Rowan until she heard her mother stirring. A quick kiss, and Lily stole back upstairs to get ready for school.
Juliet dropped Lily off before heading into Boston and her college classes. Lily was halfway across the parking lot, trudging past piles of old half-melted snow that looked like Styrofoam, when she saw Tristan sitting in his car. A huge smile spread across her face. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him until she saw him. The smile stayed plastered on her face as she hurried to him. He didn’t smile back.
“So you wear dresses now?” Tristan snapped. “Anything else I should know, or is everything still a big secret?”
“Dresses keep me cool,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
Lily looked down helplessly at one of the floaty confections she’d adopted since becoming a witch. Just a few months ago it took a grand occasion to make her trade in her habitual jeans and slogan-covered T-shirts for anything with a skirt. She’d changed, but she hadn’t noticed how much until that moment. It wasn’t knowing that she was a witch that made her feel like a freak, but the way Tristan was looking at her dress.
Lily realized that she was falling back into a pattern with Tristan, and that it was a pattern that no longer applied to her. She didn’t live and die for his approval anymore, and she wasn’t going to get into some stupid argument with him over how much she’d changed and whether or not he liked it.
“Hang on—this is insane,” she said. “We’re fighting about my freaking wardrobe. That’s not us. We’re going to start over.” Lily forced a chipper tone. “Hi, Tristan! Nice to see you! I’ve really missed you.”
“Oh, you did?” he retorted sarcastically. He got out of his car and faced Lily, his body stiff with anger. “Then why didn’t you call me? Not one call in three months. Everyone thought you were dead, Lily!” He realized he was shouting. He backed away for a second to calm himself down and lowered his voice to finish what he had to say, but it didn’t stay lowered for long. “And then when you did finally get back that asshole—Rowan—said that I couldn’t see you. But you know what? That’s not even the worst of it. The worst is that you got back, miraculously cured of your allergies, and you still didn’t call me. I had to find out from the FBI!”
Lily didn’t have any excuse for him. There was no explanation she could give him for what she’d done. The truth was, she’d been dodging Tristan because she didn’t know how to face him.
“You’re right,” Lily said, looking up at him pleadingly. “And I’m sorry. I can’t explain it, but I went through a lot, Tristan. And I am cured now, but it was long and hard and really painful. Please believe me when I say that I couldn’t call, and then when I got back I just—I don’t know.” Lily sighed deeply and threw up her hands.