Imagine Me (Shatter Me #6) - Tahereh Mafi Page 0,73

was going on a date, not a murder/rescue mission. It’s obvious he wants to make a good impression.

He’s wearing more Haider castoffs: a pale green blazer, matching pants. Black boots. But because these pieces were selected by Haider, the blazer is not a normal blazer. Of course it isn’t. This blazer has no lapels, no buttons. The silhouette is cut in sharp lines that force the jacket to hang open, exposing Warner’s shirt underneath—a simple white V-neck that shows more of his chest than I feel comfortable staring at. Still, he looks okay. A little nervous, but—

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Warner says, still staring out the window.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, feigning shock. “I’d turn the volume down, but I’d have to die in order for my brain to stop working.”

“A problem easily rectified,” he mutters.

“I heard that.”

“I meant for you to hear that.”

“Hey,” I say, realizing something. “Doesn’t this feel like some kind of weird déjà vu?”

“No.”

“No, no, I’m being serious. What are the odds that the three of us would be on a trip like this again? Though the last time we were all on a trip like this, we ended up being shot out of the sky, so—yeah, I don’t want to relive that. Also, J isn’t here. So. Huh.” I hesitate. “Okay, I think I’m realizing that maybe I don’t actually understand what déjà vu means.”

“It’s French,” Warner says, bored. “It literally means already seen.”

“Wait, so then I do know what it means.”

“That you know what anything means is astonishing to me.”

Before I have a chance to defend myself, Nazeera’s voice carries over from the cockpit.

“Hey,” she calls. “Are you guys being friends again?”

I hear the familiar click and slide of metal—a sound that means Nazeera is unbuckling herself from pilot mode. Every once in a while she puts the plane on cruise control (or whatever) and makes her way over to me. But it’s been at least half an hour since her last break, and I’ve missed her.

She folds herself into the chair next to me.

I beam at her.

“I’m so glad you two are finally talking,” she says, sighing as she sinks into the seat. “The silence has been depressing.”

My smile dies.

Warner’s expression darkens.

“Listen,” she says, looking at Warner. “I know this whole thing is horrible—that the very reason we’re on this plane is horrible—but you have to stop being like this. We have, like, thirty minutes left on this flight, which means we’re about to go out there, together, to do something huge. Which means we all have to get on the same page. We have to be able to trust each other and work together. If we don’t, or if you don’t let us, we could end up losing everything.”

When Warner says nothing, Nazeera sighs again.

“I don’t care what Nouria thinks,” she says, trying for a gentle tone. “We’re not going to lose Ella.”

“You don’t understand,” Warner says quietly. He’s still not looking at us. “I’ve already lost her.”

“You don’t know that,” Nazeera says forcefully. “Ella might still be alive. We can still turn this around.”

Warner shakes his head. “She was different even before she was taken,” he says. “Something had changed inside of her, and I don’t know what it was, but I could feel it. I’ve always been able to feel her—I’ve always been able to sense her energy—and she wasn’t the same. Emmaline did something to her, changed something inside of her. I have no idea what she’s going to be like when I see her again. If I see her again.” He stares out the window. “But I’m here because I can do nothing else. Because this is the only way forward.”

And then, even though I know it’s going to piss him off, I say to Nazeera:

“Warner and J were engaged.”

“What?” Nazeera stills. Her eyes go wide. Super wide. Wider than the plane. Her eyes go so wide they basically fill the sky. “When? How? Why did no one tell me?”

“I told you that in confidence,” Warner says sharply, shooting me a glare.

“I know.” I shrug. “But Nazeera’s right. We’re a team now, whether you like it or not, and we should get all of this out in the open. Air it out.”

“Out in the open? What about the fact that you and Nazeera are in a relationship that you never bothered mentioning?”

“Hey,” I say, “I was going t—”

“Wait. Wait.” Nazeera cuts me off. She holds up her hands. “Why are we changing the subject?