testing how honest I’m being with him, and I take another long, deep breath to keep my cool.
Finally he says, “Fine. I’ll keep a close eye on you and Gabe will meet you after the game and get you back to your dorms. If this is an attempt to run away again, I am going to make your life miserable.”
Fuck him. “You mean like it’s not already?”
I hang up before he can get another word in and shove my phone back into my pocket, giving Sage a smirk, but she’s still grimacing in my direction at overhearing that entire… mess.
“He actually hates you, doesn’t he? God, I thought Riley was bad enough.”
I thread my arm through hers and squeeze it, “Riley is fucking horrible. At least I did something to North that made him a dick, your Bond has no excuse.”
She sighs and glances around like she’s afraid Giovanna is going to jump out of the bushes and attack us both. This is the one topic we didn’t talk about last night but she doesn’t run away from it now. “I did something wrong too. I’m not a six-foot-tall Italian model with legs men want to climb and an amazing rack. I’m just… plain old Sage. God, we need to talk about something else before the self-loathing takes over me and I spend the rest of the night drinking from a flask in the bleachers.”
There’s nothing I want more than to get wasted all over again right now and forget about this entire fucking mess, and though drinking has never been something I’ve shied away from before, there’s something about talking to North that has me hesitating.
I somehow feel as though I’m holding onto my gift harder than I ever have before, but at the same time, it’s the least in control of it I’ve ever been. Every day I’ve been here I’ve had to push down, beg, plead, ignore, and stifle the bond’s wishes, every day it has called out to the men I’m destined to be with, and every day I’ve had to smother it until there’s no sign of how deeply this entire separation has burned me.
Drinking tonight is off the table, at least until I have a hold of myself again.
I change into a pair of ripped jeans and an old sweater. I’m shocked at how well they both fit me because the last time I tried them on, they were a little on the tight side. I guess all of this time surrounded by people who hate me has slimmed me down. Sage sits on the floor in front of my mirror and does her hair and makeup. She’s pretty low-key about it, a few curls and a quick swipe of mascara, but she’s so pretty that it’s all she really needs.
It kills me how little she thinks of herself thanks to Giovanna.
Nothing would make me happier than killing that bitch, and I honestly think it would be the first death I wouldn’t feel so freaking guilty about. She would be the first person I was sure was an asshole.
Is being an asshole enough to warrant someone’s death?
Fuck, today has been too long and exhausting to be thinking about this moral bullshit. All that matters is that I shouldn’t kill anyone on campus because North is so far up my ass that he’d figure it all out. He’d see right through every lie I’ve told since I came here and he’d use it as an excuse to chain me up in his basement.
Sage grabs a chair to sit and do my hair for me while I work on my makeup. She does what little she can to tame the newly-dyed tresses, grabbing large chunks to curl in loose waves so it looks a little more natural and effortless… well, as natural as lavender hair can look. She tells me stories about growing up in the tight-knit bonded community, little stories about everyone except my own Bonds, and I have to focus on keeping my hand still with all of the laughing we’re doing.
I go all out on my own makeup.
I need a lot more to look half as good as Sage, and it’s been months at this point since I’ve been able to feel good about myself at this sort of level. I choose colors that set off the blue tones in my hair and when I’m done, Sage sprawls back on my bed while I put some product in my hair to set the