I bite my tongue, cross my arms, and turn to face the front of the elevator before realizing I never hit the button to go down. Reaching forward, I jam my finger into it, relieved when we actually start lowering, growing closer to my escape.
It has always been like this between us. Felix is doing something stupid, me trying to mitigate the damage. Him, jumping from the top of a tree to see if he can shift before he hits the ground. Him, daring me to get closer to the edge of the ridge.
Him, leaning in close, his fingers trailing up my arm, his eyes dropping to my face, my body.
“I’m not,” I say, and I can feel his gaze on the side of my face like a physical touch.
“You’re not,” he repeats, clearing his throat. “So, you came for the fundraiser?”
I snort out a laugh. It’s not like I’m doing poorly for myself—I’m one of the lucky people who made it to Los Angeles and actually managed to do something with myself rather than petering out on my dreams. I think part of that was the drive, the knowledge that there would be nobody there to catch me if I fell.
So I’m fine financially, even if I don’t have quite enough for the next steps in my journey. But even if I were dripping with money and pearls, there’s no way in any hell that I would put a single penny of that toward a fund for rebuilding Silverville.
This place has done nothing but hurt me. And the people are judgmental and exclusionary. Even if they weren’t explicitly fatphobic, there would still be the issue of my magic, which I’ve been able to exercise in Los Angeles. I’ve even been able to meet up with a couple of other magic users there and practice little spells together.
Like what the five of us used to do. Before everything went wrong.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Felix says, and he must realize we’re getting closer because he starts to talk faster. “Listen, Maeve, I wanted to—”
The elevator dings, and I step forward, my mind a chorus ofno, no, no—I can’t stand the thought of whatever he’s going to say next. Has Felix Rana mated? Met the woman who would finally soften and civilize him enough that he could apologize to me?
This is about to be worse than secondhand embarrassment. It’s about to make me wish I could melt into a puddle on the floor.
But before he can get the next words out, there’s a jolting shudder, and the lights inside the elevator flicker before turning off completely, plunging the two of us into darkness.
“Oh, shit,” Felix says, whatever he was going to say before mercifully forgotten. “That is not good.”
***
Felix only lasts ten minutes of sitting quietly in the dark before he starts to talk again. We’re on the floor in the elevator, our feet outstretched, my heels still glittering in the faint emergency light, his leather shoes shining dully.
Honestly, I should have known better than to expect anything less of him.
“Don’t worry,” he says, reaching out and knocking his shoe against mine gently. “This place is full of firefighters. We’ll be out of here in no time.”
“If a firefighter’s proximity to us was going to solve the problem,” I mutter, “don’t you think we’d already be out of here?”
His brow wrinkles for a second, taking me back to a million times in middle school and junior high when the two of us sat at a table together, me helping him through a problem.
Maybe if I’d charged for any of those tutoring sessions, I would have the money I need now.
“I’m glad you still talk like that,” he says, and when I raise an eyebrow at him, he clarifies, “Smart.”
It’s stupid, and his compliments shouldn’t bring a blush to my face. I’m glad for the darkness of the elevator.
I truly am cursed—of course, the first time I risk coming back to Silverville, I run into Phina Winward on the street and get stuck with Felix Rana on the elevator. It’s like a fun, all-you-can-suffer tour of the people who made my life a living hell.
To be fair, Phina didn’t. She was just a part of the group that led to the worst day of my life.
Felix, however, did. And no matter how handsome he is right now, and no matter our shared history, I will never forget the things he said to me in high school. When he was so hellbenton making sure everyone knew he hated me just as much as he was supposed to.
“So, how long are you staying?” Felix finally asks, and when he shifts his weight, I feel the elevator shifting along with us. For some reason, that reminds me of a bed, which makes me flush harder.
“I’m not,” I return, trying to harden myself once more. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“Tonight?” he asks, sounding, for all the world, like that news is disappointing to him. I don’t buy into it, stay on the defensive, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Yes,” I say, crossing my arms, and despite all my reservations, I can hear the words coming out of my mouth. “My grandmother died, and she put me in her will. That’s the reason I came home.”
