The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4 (Cursed #3-4) - Rebecca Donovan Page 0,86

sort of time-out. When I return at the end of the day, after picking up dinner to bring back to my room, there’s a sign beneath it written in what I believe is Chinese.

“What does it mean?” I ask Arden when she appears in black-and-white-checkered leather leggings, a neon-blue soccer shirt cropped below her bustline and five-inch platform white sneakers tied with thick lemon-yellow ribbons. Her eyes are lined in white with blue feather lashes. Her lips are matte black, and her hair is knotted in two buns on top of her head.

I’m not sure what she’s dressed for; maybe she’s throwing a party in her room later. Then again, I’m beginning to suspect that this is Arden … always.

“Peace in chaos,” Arden explains. She pours the floral tea, and my jaw tightens in anticipation of its dreadful taste. “Drink.”

She waits as I do, and I cringe the entire time.

She picks up the tray and walks back through the bathroom, her voice echoing, “Goodnight, Lana.”

The next day is pretty much the same, except I spend a few hours in the afternoon with my chemistry partner, reviewing what I missed on Monday. He’s not nearly as patient with me as Grant.

I miss him. So much. More than I ever thought I could miss a person. It physically hurts, like someone cut out a piece inside my chest. I don’t want him to be angry or disappointed in me for isolating myself. But I don’t want to be around anyone right now … I’m too volatile. Hell, I don’t even like being around myself.

And I’m scared because I know Grant ended a relationship with someone he loved because she pushed him away when all he wanted to do was be there for her. And how is what I’m doing any different? I’ve caught myself several times with my phone in my hand, about to text him some random thought or ask what he’s doing. But when I pull out my phone, I remember ... I can't message him—even if I could bring myself to—and tuck it back in my pocket.

Grant is so good and kind. In contrast, my life is filled with destruction and lies. I feel so selfish, asking him to be a part of my darkness when he deserves to stand in the sun. As I unburdened my secrets upon him, I feared that they would latch on to him and drag him down too. Is it fair of me to ask him to listen but then demand he do nothing? His integrity won’t allow him to stay quiet indefinitely. It’s not who he is. And it’s not right of me to expect him to. It’s cruel.

I’ve been ordered to meet with Isaac every day to deal with this firestorm possessing me … but I can’t stand to see him right now. He knows it too because each morning when I receive a text, asking what time he should expect me, he doesn’t pursue me when I answer, “Never.”

When Arden sets the tray of tea on the coffee table Thursday night, she’s wearing a headband with two glittery yellow balls on springs. Her eyes are smudged with a pinkish-red shadow, and her lips are painted glossy orange. She’s adorned in a white satin robe with a thick hot-pink sash wrapped around her ribs. The colors remind me of the mushroom garden.

Each day, I find myself looking forward to how she’ll present herself. It’s like she’s ever-changing. But always exactly herself at the same time. Kind of like the Court.

“Will you tell me about the Court?” I ask, remembering her promise to do so the first night we met, which was only five days ago yet feels like a lifetime.

Arden looks up from pouring the tea. “What do you want to know?”

“How does it change? I never see anyone working on it.”

A mischievous grin spreads across her face. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returns a moment later, she has a large piece of drawing paper and a stick of charcoal. “I may have dabbled with some magical herbs in my tea before coming in. I was going to light up my floor and meditate, so if I go a little astray, forgive me.”

I nod with a smile. “I will do my best to translate. I’ve had a little practice with magic this summer.”

She eyes me quizzically but doesn’t ask. Instead, Arden lays the paper on the table and begins to sketch peaks of the buildings in a circle. Then the coal