Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(4)
Yet, according to Paloma, it was our destiny to meet, just as it’s our destiny to work together to keep the Richters contained, and the Lower-, Middle-, and Upperworlds balanced. And once in motion, destiny cannot be stopped.
I’m just about to ask if he might reconsider telling Chepi, when he turns into the school parking lot and brakes beside Auden’s ancient wood-paneled station wagon. Lowering the window enough to allow a gust of cold air to rush in, we watch Auden guide Xotichl out of the passenger seat and lead her toward us, her red-tipped cane weaving before her.
“Xotichl claims it’ll snow by Christmas, but I say no way.” Auden pushes his tousled golden-brown hair from his eyes and grins. “In fact, we’re taking bets—you in?”
“You’re seriously betting against Xotichl?” I ask, my voice as incredulous as the expression I wear on my face. She may be blind, but she’s the most perceptive person I’ve ever met—next to Paloma, that is.
Auden shrugs, slips an arm around Xotichl’s shoulders, and plants a kiss on her cheek. “I should probably know better—betting against her never comes to any good—but I’m pretty convinced she’s wrong on this one. It hasn’t snowed in Enchantment in years. Not since I was a kid. And there’s no sign of that changing anytime soon.”
“It certainly feels cold enough to snow.” I watch my breath billowing before me as I pull my gloves from my backpack and slip them onto my hands. Thinking it’s time to trade in my usual olive-green army jacket—recently left a bit shredded in places, thanks to an unfortunate encounter with a certain undead Richter—for something a little more weather-resistant. “I thought it snowed pretty much everywhere in these parts?”
“It does,” Auden says. “But not here. Not anymore.”
“That used to be true, but this year is different,” Xotichl says, a sly smile lighting her beautiful, heart-shaped face as her blue/gray eyes flit in the general direction of mine.
“You sensing snow energy?” My arms circle my waist, bracing against the cold as I slip free of the truck and move to join them.
“I’m sensing something.” Xotichl’s voice is soft and lilting, clearly enjoying her secret.
“So?” Auden looks at me.
I glance between them, not missing a beat, as I say, “Sorry, Auden, but I’m pretty much always going to bet on Xotichl.”
Auden shoots me a rueful look and turns to Dace. “And you?”
Dace grasps my hand in solidarity, his icy-blue eyes meeting mine. “And I’m pretty much always going to bet on Daire.”
Auden sighs, turning in the direction of Lita, Jacy, and Crickett, who call to us from across the lot. “Still can’t stop thinking of them as the Cruel Crew. Guess I need to update our Facebook status to ‘friends.’” He shakes his head and grins. “What do you think, should I even bother asking them?”
“Only if you can handle the rejection.” Xotichl laughs, as we widen our circle to admit them.
“What’s so funny? What’d I miss?” Lita flips her hair over her shoulder, allowing it to fall in gorgeous dark waves down her back, as her eyes—still heavily made-up, though much improved since Jennika’s professional makeover—move anxiously among us. She hates to be left out of anything, no matter how trivial.
“A white Christmas. Is it possible? Yay or nay?” Auden gets right to the point.
“Yay. Definitely, voting for yay.” Lita claps her gloved hands for emphasis as the others nod their agreement. “It’s gonna require a freaking miracle though. Last time it snowed, I was like, six. Then again, it is the season for miracles, right?”
She bounces on the tips of her toes and buries her mitten-covered hands under her armpits in an attempt to ward off the cold. The trill of the bell prompting Auden to kiss Xotichl good-bye so he can head off to rehearse with his band, as the rest of us make for the building, where I pause at my locker long enough to drop off some books and lighten my load.
Lita lingers beside me, watching in annoyed silence as Dace gives me a brief peck on the cheek and promises to find me at break before heading to class. Waiting until he’s well out of earshot before she thrusts her hand toward me, and says, “Quick. Take it. Before you make us both late.”
I stare at the folded piece of paper pinched between two of her fingers. About to remind her that she’s here of her own volition—that her tardiness is completely on her—but squelching it just as quickly. Being friends with Lita means not only learning to ignore half of what she says, but never forgetting that deep down inside, her heart is mostly good.
“Secret Santa,” she says, watching as I unfold the note and squint in confusion. Her voice competing with the sound of her boot tapping hard and fast against the tile floor. “Yesterday, when we drew names at lunch, I got Dace. And I figured you’d want to trade since you guys are together and all. Besides, it’s way too weird for me to buy him a gift after breaking up with his twin.”
I nod in agreement, knowing it’ll be a lot easier to come up with something Dace will like that fits within our set twenty-dollar limit, than it would be for the name I’d originally drawn. Then seeing her expectant face, I say, “Though I’m not sure that works—I drew you.”
Lita’s eyes brighten. Clearly taken with the idea of shopping for herself, she turns on her heel, saying, “No worries. I’ll work it out.”