Benton’s cheeks flush pink. “I could probably swing that.” He runs a hand through his hair, and I catch the flash of a tattoo.
“Nice ink. Is that new?” I gesture to the black triangle on his wrist. “I don’t remember seeing it in class.”
“What? Oh, yeah. It’s an early graduation gift to myself.”
“What does it mean?”
Someone adds more wood to the fire, and sparks flare into the sky. Benton steps back, shielding his eyes. Reluctantly, I back away, too. Nothing compares to the gentle lick of flames across my skin, to the rush of power that comes from contact, but this isn’t the place. As an Elemental, fire won’t burn my skin, but I don’t want to attract any questions if my clothes burn and I do not.
Benton runs a finger along the triangle on his wrist. “It’s delta. The symbol for change. It’s the only thing in life you can really count on.”
I nod and fall silent. Benton doesn’t continue, and I don’t push. Instead, I lose myself to the fire’s dance. Another shot of sparks dots the sky. Chills tingle down my back. If only I were alone, the things I could do with a fire this size...
Benton sidles closer to me, and something in his posture draws my attention away from the flames. I have to crane my neck to meet his stare. “How are you, really?” he asks. “I know things have been rough since you and Veronica split.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans, but he’s standing well inside my personal bubble.
“Rough’s one word for it.” The mention of Veronica is a shot of poison right to the heart. I want to be home, in bed, where I can hide the tears pressing behind my eyes. Benton should know better. He was there. He saw the shouting match outside our bus back to Salem. He and Gemma comforted me on the horribly awkward ride home.
“I’m sorry.” Benton tugs at his hair, which makes it stand on end for a moment before it falls. “Um, so I was thinking. I know the timing sucks, but... do you want to get coffee sometime?”
I stare at my friend. Unblinking. Confused. Slightly horrified.
“I totally get if it’s too soon. I do. And normally I wouldn’t ask someone out this soon after a breakup, but I’m leaving for Boston in August, and I didn’t want to leave without trying, and—”
“Are you seriously asking me out right now?”
Benton falters. This clearly isn’t going the way he rehearsed it in his head. “Um... yes?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re funny. And kind. And smart. And—”
“And a huge lesbian,” I add before this can get any more awkward. “I thought you knew that.”
Benton stares at his shoes. “I did. I do.”
“So, what?” I ask, fury and betrayal rising from deep in my gut. “Did you think you could turn me straight?”
“No! No, of course not.” He blows out a breath and laces his hands on top of his head. “I feel like such an asshole right now.”
The tension in my chest loosens. A little. “Let’s pretend this never happened.” I hold out a hand. “Friends?”
“Friends.” Benton shakes my hand, but his forehead crinkles. “I don’t get why Savannah told me to ask you out. She said you were bisexual. She even said you had a crush on me.”
I don’t hear whatever he says next. Savannah.That’sher name. What’s-Her-Face from the store this afternoon. I grab Benton’s arm. “Savannah told you? When?”
Benton glances at the place where my fingers circle his bare skin. I let go. “Like ten minutes ago.” He kicks at a pebble on the ground, sending it skittering into the fire. “This is so messed up.”
“No kidding.” I’m already scanning the crowd for her expanse of dark curls. “Where was she when she told you?”
“Over there.” He gestures toward the other side of the clearing, across a throng of writhing bodies.
“Great, thanks.” I take off toward the swell of dancers moving their hips to yet another wordless song with pounding bass. The crackle of fire is loud in my ears, but familiar laughter breaks through. My hands ball into fists.
“Where are you going?” Benton’s words chase after me.
“To find Veronica.”And end this.
•••
