The Golden Lily (Bloodlines #2)(57)

"No," she said. "I mean, well, yes. But he's a little better. He's excited about learning selfdefense with you." The bond would never cease to amaze me. I'd only communicated with Adrian a minute ago.

"'Excited?'" I asked. That seemed like an astonishingly strong reaction.

"It's a distraction. And a distraction's the best thing for him in these moods," she explained.

"He is still upset, though. He's still depressed over his dad."

"I shouldn't have taken him to San Diego," I murmured, more to myself than her. "If I'd refused, he wouldn't have been able to get there."

Jill looked skeptical. "I don't know. I think he would've found a way, with or without you.

What happened between them was going to happen eventually." She sounded remarkably wise.

"I just feel terrible seeing Adrian like this," I said.

"These moods come and go for him. Always have." Jill got a faraway look in her eyes.

"He's laid off the drinking a little bit - for my sake. But then that just opens him up for... well, it's hard to explain. You know how spirit drives people insane? When he's down like this and sober, it makes him more vulnerable."

"Are you saying Adrian's going crazy?" That was not a complication I was ready for.

"No, not exactly." She pursed her lips as she thought. "He just gets a little scattered...

weird. You'll know it when you see it. He kind of makes sense but kind of not. Gets dreamy and rambles. But not in the way I do. It's got like a - I don't know - mystical feel. But it's not actually magical. It's just him kind of... losing it temporarily. It never lasts and, like I said, you'll know it when you see it."

"I think I might have..." An unexpected memory flashed back to me, of just before Sonya and Dimitri had arrived. I'd been at Adrian's, and he'd looked at me strangely, like he was just noticing me for the first time. Thinking about it still sent chills through me.

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? The color... like molten gold. I could paint those...

"Girls?" Mrs. Weathers was at her desk, shutting things down for the night. "You need to get to your rooms."

We nodded obediently and moved toward the stairs. When we reached Jill's floor, I stopped her before she could leave. "Hey - if Adrian's not the problem, then what was bothering you when you came in? Is everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, that." She flushed in a cute kind of way. "Yeah. I guess. I don't know. Micah...

um, well, he kissed me tonight. For the first time. And I guess I was just kind of surprised at how I felt about it."

I was surprised they hadn't kissed before and supposed I should be grateful. Her words resonated with me. "What do you mean? Did it feel a lot less exciting than you expected? Like you were just touching someone's lips? Like you were kissing a relative?" She gave me a puzzled look. "No. That's crazy. Why would you think that?"

"Um, just guessing." I suddenly felt silly. Why had it felt that way for me?

"It was great, actually." A faraway look came over her. "Well, almost. I couldn't quite get into it as much as I wanted because I was worried about my fangs. It's easy to hide them talking and smiling. But not while kissing. And all I kept thinking was, 'What am I going to say if he notices?' And then I started thinking about what you and everyone else said. About how this thing with Micah isn't a good idea and how I can't keep things hands-off forever. I like him. I like him a lot. But not enough to risk exposing the Moroi... or endanger Lissa."

"That's a noble attitude."

"I guess. I don't want to end things yet, though. Micah's so nice... and I love all the friends I've made by being with him. I guess I'll just see what happens... but it's hard. It's a wake-up call." She looked so sad as she went into her room.

Continuing on to mine, I felt bad for Jill... but at the same time, I was relieved. I'd stressed over her casual dating of Micah, worried we'd be facing some dramatic, romantic situation where she refused to give him up because their love was too great and transcended their races. Instead, I should have had more faith in her. She wasn't as immature as I sometimes thought. Jill was going to realize the truth and resolve this on her own.

Her words about Adrian also stuck with me, particularly when I picked him up the next evening for our first self-defense class. He got into my car with a cheery attitude, seeming neither depressed nor crazy. He was, I noticed, dressed very nicely, in clothes that would have been an excellent choice for the visit to his father. He noticed my attire as well.

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen you in anything so... casual." I had on olive green yoga pants and an Amberwood T-shirt.

"The class description said to dress in comfortable workout clothes - like I texted you earlier." I gave his raw silk shirt a meaningful look.

"This is very comfortable," he assured me. "Besides, I don't own any workout clothes." As I shifted the car into drive, I caught sight of Adrian's left hand. At first, I thought he was bleeding. Then, I realized it was red paint.

"You're painting again," I said in delight. "I thought you'd stopped."

"Yeah, well. You can't take painting classes and not paint, Sage."