Echo (The Soul Seekers #2)(42)

She considers me for a moment, her head bobbing back and forth as though weighing my words. Ultimately choosing to drop it, she says, “Where’d you get this?” She pinches the sleeve of the black down jacket I wear. “I’m not sure what’s worse, Daire—that old army jacket you always wore or this thing.” She shakes her head, having decided I’m an enigma who makes the kind of choices she’ll never understand.

“It’s Django’s.” I watch her jaw drop as her eyes grow bigger than I’ve ever seen them.

“Where’d you find that?” She stares at me, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles turn white.

“In a box full of his stuff. You should look through it while you’re here. I think you’d find it interesting.”

“No.” She rips her gaze from mine, focuses on the bumpy dirt road ahead. “Maybe.” She rubs her lips together, continues to squint out the window. “I don’t know. We’ll see.” She sighs, her shoulders sinking in surrender and remaining that way, until she pulls into the parking lot and says, “Hey, aren’t those your friends? And isn’t that your ex standing with them?”

I follow her gaze to where Xotichl, Auden, Lita, Crickett, Jacy, and yes, even Dace, are talking and laughing. My eyes grazing over them, before settling on him—but only for a moment before I force myself to look away. I can’t afford to allow my gaze to linger.

“Wow. I would’ve expected them to be on your side.” Her eyes dart between them and me. “Do they even know about your breakup?”

“Probably not,” I mumble. “Seeing as how I didn’t go to school yesterday.” My voice fading as I watch some new girl, someone I’ve never seen before, with a wild mane of dark spiral curls, cautiously approach them.

“Well, clearly he’s not about to tell them what a jerk he is. So make sure you do it.” Jennika huffs under her breath, looking like she’s considering marching right over there and telling them for me.

But all I can do is stare at that slim, beautiful, exotic-looking girl with the halo of hair, the long almond-shaped eyes that tilt up at the sides, the dainty nose, and the generous full lips.

She looks like a dancer—sinewy, fluid—the very manifestation of grace.

She looks like several nationalities got together and decided to donate their most celebrated physical traits to one person, and she’s the result.

“Who’s that with them?” Jennika nudges my arm. “The one standing next to Jacy?”

I continue to stare, wondering why they all seem to know her—why she keeps looking at Dace. And why Dace can hardly bring himself to return the look.

About to probe deeper, try for one of those impressions, if only to get a read on the situation, when I catch myself. Stop myself. If anything, I should be building walls between us, not knocking them down.

Jennika’s voice drones on, providing a long list of what’s meant to be helpful hints on how to handle this breakup with my friends in order to gain the upper hand. Stopping only when I say, “Jennika—”

She looks at me, face expectant.

I gnaw hard on my lip, force myself to swallow the angry retort that comes far too easily. The one about boundaries—about allowing me the freedom to make my own mistakes my own way. The one where I remind her that she can’t protect me from everything no matter how hard she tries. Instead, I just slip free of the car and wave to her from the curb. Watching as she exits the lot before I make for Chay’s old blue truck parked at the side of the building, just under the cartoon picture of a wizard, our school mascot. This was what Paloma was hinting at.

“Get in.” He leans across the seat to prop open my door. “Paloma’s waiting. Looks like you’ve got more training to do.”

I climb in beside him, and despite knowing better, I can’t keep from taking one last look at Dace as Chay pulls onto the street.

Can’t help but notice how quickly he senses me looking.

How swiftly he turns to meet my gaze.

I sink into the moment—allowing myself to bask in his presence.

Until I remember the high price of loving him and force myself to look away.





twenty-three


Dace

I sense her the second her mom pulls into the lot.

The rush of her energy, like a cocktail for the senses that leaves me thirsting for more.

So absorbed by Daire’s presence, I almost miss it when Lita says, “… and then I’m like, Phyre?” She reenacts a scene from the day before, dramatizing the same expressions, the same hair swing, so we can see it just like it happened. Going on to add, “And sure enough, it was her. She’s back in Enchantment. Can you even believe that? I could’ve sworn they were gone for good.”

“Phyre?” I stare at Lita, though I don’t really focus. The name alone is enough to reel me into a past I’d long since buried. Hardly ever think about.

Lita shakes her head, shoots me a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Um, hello? Yes, Phyre. What do you think I’ve been going on about?” She looks at everyone else, making a face she thinks I can’t see even though I’m standing directly in front of her.

“So, she’s back?” I say, knowing the question will only serve to annoy her, but I missed the details the first time around. I need the confirmation that it is what I think.