out here, wishing I had the same chance to make things right with Ness.
Twenty-One
Ultimately
BRIGHTON
It’s really sinking in how short life is.
I walk back to the cottage, thinking about how I’ll never own a house I can show off to my family. How everything I always wanted for myself—fame, power, success, family—won’t ever happen. I made some stupid, arrogant choices and I’m paying the price for it now. But the conversations I’ve had lately with Ruth and Emil are inspiring me to make some better decisions before my time runs out.
Prudencia was in the shower when I left to go kill some tension with Emil but she’s nowhere to be seen inside now. I go back outside and I find her in the grass clearing by the toolshed, sitting cross-legged in the air. Her eyes are closed and she’s wobbling but mostly keeping her balance. There’s always been something attractive about Prudencia concentrating that distracted me so much that I would sneak peeks, like whenever we did homework together or made signs for protests or the couple times she helped me edit my videos. But she’s stunning in this moment, fully in her own element—wet dark hair pulled back by a rubber band, one of Ruth’s Every Body Is Super shirts tucked into sweatpants, and elevated by the power she’s kept secret for too many years.
I feel weird standing here and watching her, so I whisper her name to get her attention, louder and louder, until I accidentally scare her and she drops to the ground. I run over and help her up with my left hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
Prudencia sucks in a breath while she massages her elbow. “It’s okay.”
“Do you need ice?” I turn to go back inside.
“No, it’s fine. Between all the battles lately I can handle a little fall.” She wipes the dirt from her hands onto her sweatpants. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was looking for you.” The seconds of silence that follow are too much, so I quickly add, “How about you?”
Prudencia points at the Cloaked Phantom. “We didn’t get a chance to appreciate the Crowned Dreamer at its zenith, so I figured I’d come out tonight and feel these stars on my skin.”
I start backing away. “Okay, I’ll leave you to that.”
I need to be better about respecting her background.
Prudencia sits on the grass and stares ahead at the bay. “I could use a break,” she says and I stop retreating. “Balancing myself in the air is pretty taxing. So, you were looking for me?”
“I just wanted to talk.”
“About . . . ?”
“Everything. Nothing. Whatever feels right.”
She pats the grass beside her. “Come sit.”
The last time we got to sit like this in nature was on my birthday. I hosted that underwhelming meet-up for not even a dozen Brightsiders and went home with too much merch. I have way more clout now, I’m sure I could get hundreds of people. But this focus on strangers has always been my problem. I’ve always had a real friend right here by my side. Someone who could’ve been more if I put her before others.
“I’m really sorry,” I say. It crushes me when I realize I have so much to apologize for. “My ego won every battle against you and Emil but it especially wasn’t fair to you. Emil and I have been able to turn to our parents whenever we got on each other’s nerves, but you’ve been alone with Maia, who hasn’t been a good aunt to you. She didn’t even let you be yourself. And I failed by not being someone you can trust.”
Prudencia folds her arms over her knees and nods. “I really appreciate that, Brighton. I never wanted to take my powers to the grave, but I didn’t want to embrace them anymore. It’s been really lonely, though.”
I don’t want to ask because I’m scared of how it will make me feel, but this is the work I got to do to make up for all the times I put myself before her. “But you had Dominic, right? Celestial boyfriend who understood you?”
“It could’ve,” she says. “If I’d told him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It didn’t feel written in the stars,” Prudencia says. “His family is very proud of their gleamcraft. Practically purists. I liked Dominic a lot, but I wasn’t going to lay out all my cards so my high school boyfriend’s parents would like me.”
“You were always too good for him anyway,” I say.
“Is this still