When I kissed him, his mouth tasted like warm rain. My heart crashed, and I knew that this would not be easy. It never would be easy. It would be rough and stormy.
And beautiful. Beautiful, too.
Like a tornado spinning down from the clouds.
I know. Most girls want their skies to be sunny.
But I'm not most girls.
Savoir ou ne pas savoir
Bérénice était troublée. Elle peinait encore à croire à l’existence d’un artéfact aussi étrange. C’était quoi ? De la magie ? La magie n’existait pas. Et pourtant, ces pages tournaient seules, ces dessins et ces mots qui surgissaient de nulle part, cette chaleur palpitante sous ses doigts…
Rien ne l’avait préparée à vivre un tel moment et, même si elle brûlait de poser les questions qui la hantaient depuis toujours, rien ne lui prouvait que le livre dirait la vérité.
“I feel like I need to speak out, because if no one speaks out, if no one says, This is me, this is what I believe in, and this is why I’m different, and this is why that’s okay, then what’s the point? What’s the point of living in this beautiful, great melting pot where everyone can dare to be anything they want to be?”
‘Emily Johnston?… Is Emily Johnston here?’ This teacher was clearly annoyed. I could tell by the
scowl on his face. His eyebrows almost met in the center of his forehead when he squinted that way
and there was a vein pulsing at his temple. I wished Emily Johnston would raise her hand or this
guy would give up and move on to the next name. I glanced around the room to see where Emily might
be and felt the burn of sixteen pair of eyes glaring at me.
‘Oh crap!’ I whispered. ‘Here,’ I mumbled aloud. ‘Sorry… Spacing…,’ were the only other words
I could manage to utter.
Why did it always take me so long to remember a new name? Well good job, ‘Emily,’ nothing like
calling attention to yourself on your first day of classes, I admonished myself. I’d choose the
name next time. This was the second time Catherine had picked a name that just wouldn’t stick in
my brain. Emily… Emily… Emily… I silently chanted in my head.
And Seventeen! Why did I have to be seventeen again? I hated not being considered an adult. High
school was interesting the first time, but I hated repeating it. I put my foot down about the
grade though, I’m a senior. One year was all I could bear to put in this time.
Windows stared out at us like dead eyes.
The houses in the small village were burned and blackened, their roofs collapsing.
Beside me, Mary Anne sank to the ground, her silent sobs sending a dull pain through my chest. I kneeled next to her.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered, putting my arm around her shoulders.
I couldn't completely understand how she was feeling. I'd never had a home I felt particularly attached to in any real way. I'd moved around so much, it had been pointless to get emotionally invested in a house or even a neighbourhood. But Mary Anne had spent her childhood here in this secret village.
In the past week, she'd become an outcast and a traitor in the eyes of everyone she'd ever loved. Now this. I held her tighter.
Glass crunched under Jackson's boots as he walked to the nearest house. The sound echoed through the silent.
"What happened here?" I asked.
"The Order of Shadows happened," he said. He kicked at a broken fence.
"How can you be sure it was the Order?"
"I've seen this before," he said. Darkness spread across his features. It was such a painful expression, it twisted my insides.
"Where?" I almost didn't ask. I almost didn't want to know.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "All that matters is that they've been here. They probably took anything of value they could find and then torched the place. I doubt we'll be able to find any of the old spell books."
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