walls. I want to tear those walls down a bit and see what could happen between us if we both stopped hiding from our feelings.
Dmitri though, seems to have had the exact opposite response.
He hasn’t mentioned what happened between us, and if anything, he’s acting more closed off now than he was last spring. He’s still fiercely protective of me, we still banter back and forth, and I still catch him gazing at me with intense heat in his eyes sometimes—but he seems to be actively trying to keep things between us exactly the way they’ve always been. To not let them change at all.
Which… sucks.
I try not to let it stress me out as we enjoy the last couple days of summer vacation though, and before I know it, I’m saying goodbye to my sister again.
God, this part never gets fucking easier. I hate being away from her. I squeeze her as tightly as I can and press a kiss to her hair and remind myself that we’re in the twenty-first century, which means I can call or message her pretty much anytime I want to, and she can do the same with me. We’re never as far apart as we feel.
It’s just… hard, after living in each other’s pockets for so long, that’s all.
We get Maddy onto the shuttle for Neptune Academy, and then we’re off to Griffin. Dmitri’s driving, because Cam is in charge of the music and Asher has “road anxiety.”
“You know how most people have road rage?” he says. “Where they get angry? I panic instead.”
The admission makes me laugh out loud because it doesn’t surprise me one bit, and I plant a kiss on his cheek. He’s such an empathetic person, even beyond his mind-reading abilities, that I can see how dealing with a bunch of other rage-filled drivers would stress him out.
So that puts Asher in the back seat with me. I’m not allowed to drive because Maddy, the traitor, told the others about my little speeding habit. I also haven’t owned or driven a car in about four years; we had to sell the car after Mom died, and I didn’t really need one anyway since The Den was pretty close to our old apartment.
Still, did she have to tell the guys about my speeding tickets?
The drive is fun though, and after only couple of hours, we pull through the large entry gate into the Griffin Academy campus.
I’ll be honest, when I first got to this school, I was nervous as hell. I was only doing it so my magic wouldn’t be taken away and so I could stay in Maddy’s world. No way would I leave her on her own in the magical community and let myself be cut off from it.
I felt a little blackmailed by Aurora, as though I didn’t really have a choice. So I was jittery and cranky going in, and I really didn’t think I’d like this place at all.
But now, as Wellwood Hall comes into view, I get this feeling of peace and happiness. Excitement, even. I’m glad to be back.
Our school is beautiful, so that helps. The academy grounds are massive, and the stone wall around the campus encompasses an area that stretches over several dozen acres. Most of it isn’t developed though—just the area surrounding the school buildings. Thick woods take up a large portion of the grounds, and Cam and I went running through them often last year.
We drive past the ancient-looking dormitory buildings, the faculty and staff housing, the dining hall and auditorium, and finally, Wellwood Hall. It’s an impressive structure that looks like it was designed by an insane architect—three or four stories high in some places, six or seven in others, with towers that seem to pop up in random places. Gables and turrets give the whole thing an old-timey feel, and the windows and doors are all ornately detailed.
On the west side of campus, there’s a small lot that’s enchanted to accommodate a good number of cars without taking up too much space. Most students take the shuttle in from Portland—I’m pretty sure it costs an arm and a leg to park on campus, which is why Dmitri is the only one of the guys who keeps a car here.
I’m still staring out the back window at Wellwood Hall as we drive up to the lot. I sort of got used to it all last year, but looking at it again with fresh eyes, this whole place really