Chapter 18- Someone Gives me a Bear Hug
Grace
This was it, my chance to make it up to everyone. To Dylan. If I got Rowan safely into Malistaire's lair, and she defeated him, then maybe they wouldn't see me as a monster anymore. Maybe they would accept me again. I knew it was risky, going back, and Rowan could find out my secret, but it was the best shot I had.
It took just one book to confirm that, yes, you can teleport anywhere you have been before. I could have already met up with Rowan, but I decided to research my own topic a little more.
I was trying to figure out why the glistening ice symbol was on my hand. I tried and I tried and I tried, but all I could find was one measly charm book containing a simple spell that made instant spell symbol tattoos. One tattoo, for each school, and it only worked once. I couldn't imagine how this connected though, unless someone had casted it on the Book of Secrets. But it was the Book of Secrets, no one would do that.
I eventually left the library, feeling somewhat dejected and worn out.
The next day, I walked into the cafeteria, and prepared to face Rowan. She was sitting at the table in the back. With Dylan and his friends. And Digby. And Jaqueline. I gulped, it was now or never.
I walked up to her table, wiping my sweaty palms on my robes. They all gaped at me as I took the seat directly next to Rowan. She beamed.
"So did you find it?" she asked, not seeming to notice the looks the others were giving me. I tugged at my collar, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe.
"Uh. Um. Yeah." I finally muttered.
Her face lit up. "Great!" she said. She turned to the others. "Guys?" Oh no oh no oh please no. "She… wait, what's your name?" she asked, turning towards me. I flushed.
"Grace." Dylan said for me, staring at me with a sad look in his eyes. I glanced at my hands in my lap.
"Oh… Well, Grace here is gonna get us into Malistaire's lair."
Everyone's jaw dropped.
"What?" they all said in unison.
Dylan stood up. "Hey Grace, can I talk to you for a moment?" Oh God. I stood up and followed him over to the corner next to the food. "What are you thinking?" he said sadly, when we finally got there. I opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped me. "You can't even get into Malistaire's lair anyways, what are you trying to prove Grace?"
"I can get into Malistaire's lair." I muttered, hardly above a whisper. I didn't dare meet his eyes.
"Grace. Come on. Be realistic here, you're ju-"
"I can," I interrupted him. He was quiet for a moment. I sighed and reached into my backpack. I pulled out the battered old hoodie he had given me, back before everything had changed. I stuck it out to him. He just gaped at it, shaking his head.
"Grace…"
"Just take it. I don't care if you hate me, but I need to do this, I need to be a part of this. I'm going to get you into Malistaire's lair."
"You kept it." His face softened, and he looked down at me, wonder in his eyes. "All this time, after everything you said, you kept it."
I looked down at the hoodie, still in my outstretched hand. I took a deep shuddering breath, tears threatening to form at the edge of my vision. I'd know Dylan for less than ten minutes when he'd given it to me, but I'd never had it in me to throw it away. My arm dropped, and I bent my head down as tears threatened to fall. One fat, warm tear drop slid down my face, and I was in Dylan's arms.
He clutched me tightly to his chest, pressing his face into my tangle of hair. I leaned into him, letting the tears roll freely. It felt good, to be in his arms, to feel him there, to know that he was there, and that he wasn't going to leave. Until he finds out who you really are. The thought crept into my mind, cold and unwelcoming, but I shoved it aside. It felt good to have a friend. It felt good to have Dylan.
Dylan. This boy, this boy who had only just barely met me, who had given me his sweater just because I was cold, who I had been horrible to, who had forgiven me, who held me in his arms right now, and not because he had to. Because he wanted to. All because he wanted to.
I pulled back hardly an inch, just so I could look into his eyes. "Why?" I asked. "Why don't you hate me?"
His glistening golden eyes met my icy blue ones, and I felt myself slowly melting. "No one's perfect, Grace. And everyone deserves a second chance."
I felt a fresh tear slide down my cheek, and he gently wiped it away, pulling me closer.