Twenty-Seven

Christian

With the field experience and Rose officially out of my life, I spent most of my time in the cabin with Dimitri and Aunt Tasha. They both knew there was something wrong, but I dismissed it easily enough. I'd just killed my mother, and that was big enough that I could shift the blame of my bad mood onto that.

Aunt Tasha was at the stove making some dinner for us, and I sprawled out on the couch, pretending to be absorbed in one of the books on offensive magic.

My mind was with Rose. When Dimitri had left she'd gone partying; gone kissing every guy she could get her hands on as a means of distraction. Now I'd done the same. I'd effectively left her, even if it was a mutual decision.

The thought of someone else touching her made my hands tighten on the book. She'd never gone further than a bit of fooling around before, but I'd taken her virginity. Maybe she'd be sleep with them now.

Maybe someone was taking her clothes off as I sat here and thought about it.

I realised I'd singed the edges of the book, and struggled to calm myself down. Dimitri, from where he was sat at the table, was frowning at me. I ignored him.

"Isn't Rose going to come and see us before we leave?" My Aunt asked, unaware of how I flinched at the name. "It's been so quiet around here without her."

"I'm sure she'll come and say goodbye." I hadn't even been able to pluck up the courage to tell her that they were leaving next week. We'd done a perfect job of avoiding each other. Rose was constantly in the gym, so she was never around when Lissa, Eddie, Adrian and I hung out.

I felt like I was stealing her friends, though, and so I'd limited my time with them. She deserved it more. Even if I hadn't missed the little glare Lissa sometimes sent in Rose's direction when she thought no one was looking.

I'd managed to come between two best friends, and it made me sick to my stomach.

"Well, I hope so. Are you two not on speaking terms anymore?"

"Yes, we are."

"Oh. I just thought you'd visit together. You seemed close."

She was edging around the subject, and I didn't bother to indulge her. "She's been busy."

Aunt Tasha frowned at me, but I just lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. I didn't have the motivation to argue the point. I was here to forget about Rose, not talk about her.

"Have you decided what you're going to be doing after graduation?" she asked, plating up the food. "It's coming up fast now."

There were just two months until we'd be done with St. Vladimir's forever.

I shrugged again, my promise to Rose whirring around my mind. She'd been scared we'd never see each other again, and I'd told her I couldn't stay away. It was still true; we might not be speaking to each other right now, but the thought of committing to a college across the country and losing her forever was so painful I couldn't even consider it.

I just didn't know how I was going to sell my Aunt the lie that I was going to Court for the fun of it rather than to chase the girl I loved, but could never have.

"Well, you need to make a decision soon. You know there's a very good college near me. You should think about it. I'd like to have you as a permanent fixture in my life."

I smiled, and it was real. "I'll definitely think about it," I lied.

Aunt Tasha handed me a plate and then sat down heavily beside me on the couch. "You're miserable, Christian."

I sighed, too, having no idea what to say to that. "I'm fine."

"That's the least convincing thing you've ever said."

"I told you I wouldn't be a good politician."

"Just talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"You're behaving like a zombie."

I bristled. "I'm behaving like someone who just had to go through something traumatic. That's it, okay?"

But she was unconvinced. "I just want you to know you can talk to me."

"I know that I can, and if I want to, I will."

But I couldn't bring myself to say the words. There was no solution to Rose and I, so what was the point in letting people into our dirty little secret? It was best to just bury it, and hope that I could get back to the point where we were just friends.

We'd meant what we said: we needed each other, one way or another. Right now I was dying inside with the need to at least talk to her, to be her friend again, but it was still too raw. We needed time apart, to come back down and find a way of keeping our hands off each other. To let the guilt fade.

I just hoped that process didn't take long.