Wings of the Wicked - By Courtney Allison Moulton Page 0,87
cautiously, and I was grateful that she didn’t argue with me. “How about we hit up the bowling alley for a couple hours after school tomorrow?”
“That’d be fun,” I said. I knew I needed to force myself to get out and do something besides go to school and hang out at Nana’s.
“Does that mean you’re coming?” she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice, raising her eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll go.”
She played with a lock of my hair. “You’ll let me know if you’re not okay, right?”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I’m as okay as I can be. Got to move on with my life, you know?”
“Yeah.” She studied me with her cool blue eyes.
I hoisted my backpack higher on my shoulder. “See you tomorrow morning?”
She smiled. “Of course. You know I’m here for you. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
A sickness flooded my heart. If only I could tell her everything. I wanted so badly to talk to her, to tell her everything, because I needed to talk to someone. I needed to talk to Kate. I needed her.
I turned my face away and rubbed my eye before she saw the tears that budded. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before she could respond, I was marching briskly down the hall, leaving her at her locker. When I burst through the doors to the student parking lot, I saw the last person I wanted to see in the entire world leaning against the grill of my car. I rubbed away the tears that threatened to give away my feelings as I approached, feeling the curious eyes of other people around the parking lot.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I’d intended it to be.
The green of Will’s eyes had been placid but troubled, and then they flashed, as if my words had stung him. He looked down briefly. “I wanted to make sure your day went all right. That you’re all right.”
I walked right past him to the driver’s side door. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”
He followed me. “I don’t want to fight.”
I realized then that we hadn’t spoken for days, which was strange for me. It seemed like I saw him every single day. I was so used to his presence near me, all around me, and even when I was furious with him, I noticed his absence. I missed him. I missed him even now, when he was standing only two feet away from me. But I was still too mad to give in to the effect he had on me.
“Please just hear me out,” Will pleaded.
I opened my mouth to interject, but he spoke again quickly.
“I did what I had to do. I know you don’t understand that now, and I don’t expect you to. Ellie, I’m sorry that I hurt you.” He reached out a hand to touch my face, his fingers warm in the bitter cold air. “You know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”
I closed my eyes at his touch and swallowed shakily. “Regardless of your intentions,” I said slowly, “you still hurt me. And I’m not ready to forgive you yet.”
He took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. His lips kissed my palm, and wings fluttered through my insides. He looked down at my hand for just a moment before returning my gaze painfully. “Please, please forgive me. I can’t bear the way you look at me now.”
I pulled away. “Let’s talk in the car.”
After I sat down and he climbed into the passenger seat, we fell into an awkward silence.
“She was going to divorce him,” I confessed. “She was going to get out, be safe. But we were too late. I was too late to save her.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” His voice was a whisper.
I frowned and swallowed. “It doesn’t matter that you and everyone else keep saying that. I’ll feel like this no matter what.”
“I know,” he said. “But it isn’t your fault.”
If I continued to argue with him, I would only get angry, and I was desperate not to get mad at him anymore. I was tired of fighting with him.
“You understand why I did it, right?” he asked in a small voice.
He didn’t elaborate, but I knew what he was talking about. “There had to be something else you could have done,” I said.
“There may have been,” he admitted. “I don’t deny the possibility of it. But Nathaniel and I made a decision. The reaper said he killed your father years ago, and