ANATOMY OF A GIRL

part twenty-six

He beamed at her. "But you love me anyway."

She rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head faintly. She'd thought what she needed was to be alone, wrapped in blankets and her thoughts, but maybe a few hours like this, watching super kids fight evil monkeys, talking about hot cartoon boys with one of her best friends, was all she really needed.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table and the glass screen lit up. Ayden looked to her expectantly. She shrugged before rolling her eyes and reaching for the phone, extending her arm and wiggling her fingers toward it.

Ayden made an odd noise. "Goddesses, you're so lazy," he said, reaching forward to grab her phone. "It's from Fern― wait a second..." He pulled her phone closer to himself. "First of all, you ignored my message." He sent her a look of displeasure. "Secondly, my name has a heart next to it. That's so cute." He placed a hand on his heart and pouted.

"You're the one who put it there," she said, throwing a pillow at him.

He caught the pillow, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "But you haven't changed it, now have you?"

Sapphire feigned gagging, rolling her eyes in a far less playful way, as she ripped the phone from his hands.

Fern Scot, 06.09: We need to talk.

She let out a heavy breath as she typed a reply to Fern.

Sapphire Gracen, 06.10: Can't.

Unfortunately for Fern, Sapphire's cartoons were a priority, and in any case, she couldn't imagine being able to muster enough energy to get up off the couch, anyway. The idea was unimaginable. She definitely didn't need that conversation ruining her morning.

Fern's reply was almost immediate.

Fern Scot, 06.10: I'm not asking. Parking lot.

She groaned, pulling the blanket up over her head. She could very well just ignore Fern, but she had the impression that Fern was not messing around, and that if Sapphire didn't go meet her, she might come hunt her down. While that idea sounded much more pleasant than walking to the parking lot at six in the morning, she feared it would result in a loud argument, and the entire dorm building did not need to hear that. She didn't even want to hear it.

"What did she say?" Ayden asked, his voice muffled from beneath the comfort of the blanket's walls.

She threw the blanket off her body and onto the couch beside her, pushing herself into a sitting position and standing up off the couch. Her feet tingled and her head spun slightly after spending too much time on the couch. It was a price she was willing to pay.

She shook out her legs, picking up the blanket once more and throwing it over Ayden's head.

She interrupted his muffled protests. "I've got to go talk to her. See you later."

He pulled the blanket off his head and called out after her. "Goodbye, Sapphire."

She smiled to herself as she made her way toward the dorm's entrance and from there to the parking lot. Fern stood at the edge in the scattered shade of a tree.

"Caelia knows about Noah," she began, her voice brisk. "It's only a matter of time before Lukas finds out." Sapphire could practically hear her teeth grinding.

Sapphire wasn't entirely sure how this involved her, but she felt sorry for Fern nonetheless. She'd cheated, yes, but she didn't deserve the torture Caelia would undoubtedly hand her.

"I'm sorry―"

"Sorry?" She interrupted. "I trusted you'd keep your word and now look where we are. You told Adley and she couldn't keep her mouth shut while she fucking assaulted Caelia."

She tried to ignore the image of Flair, standing above Caelia, bloody and murderous. "I don't see how this is my fault. Flair doesn't know about Noah, so she couldn't have told Caelia."

Fern scoffed. "But she knew about Caelia and the Witch. You're the only other person who knew, and now Caelia doesn't trust me. She stole my secret in exchange for hers, and now, she's going to destroy me." More than angry, Fern was distraught. Sapphire could see that, as much as Fern tried to hide it. "If you'd just kept quiet, none of this would've happened."

"I am sorry that it had to happen this way, Fern. I really am. Secrets just have a way of hurting us when we least expect it."

—ж—

Sapphire found Arlo in his favourite place. He didn't recall ever telling her about it explicitly, but Sapphire had a way of just knowing things – of knowing people. She'd expressed that she would never look into their minds, would never violate their privacy in that way, but her magic, and all magic, was a difficult thing to keep in control of. He didn't blame her – none of them did. They were all cursed in their own ways.

She must have known how he and Flair had loved this spot – sitting in the dappled sunlight with their backs against a great pine, surrounded by the songs of the trees and those that dwelled within them.

Sapphire sat down beside him. A few breaths passed before she spoke.

"I saw Zak's memories from that night. I didn't want to believe it— I still don't, but I can't ignore what I saw. If I can't trust my own magic, then I have nothing."

Arlo's heart seemed to twist in his chest, but it was not a feeling of fear or anxiety that settled upon him. It was a suffocating feeling of inevitability. No matter who Sapphire had seen, it would all be over soon. Perhaps he would find some peace in the end.

"It was Flair," she whispered, cracking his twisted heart.

"No," he replied quietly, surely. Almost every part of him screamed out, proclaimed Flair's innocence. But there was one piece of him, one buried deeper within him than he thought possible, that knew this story was the truth he'd been searching for. He wanted to hate that piece of himself, but it was the only part of him that felt any peace. Perhaps this was the end of his story – killed by the girl he loved, and brought back to the mortal realm as some god's cruel version of punishment.

—ж—

Flair couldn't remember ever being happier. Blackness ate away at the edges of her vision, and that only thing she was sure of was Arlo beside her. But she was fine with that. Arlo was enough. The thrum of his heartbeat, the song she found in his breaths, and the warmth of his skin. The party's glow gave the impression that his flesh was marble. For all his beauty, it could've been.

She felt herself stumble, but Arlo caught her before she hit the floor. He always caught her. She grinned up at him. Arlo put one hand in hers and rested the other on her cheek. She could feel his cool breaths on her face. One, two― the song ended. Arlo paled to the same milky blue as the sky on a winter's day. He wasn't marble, but she wished he was. Her stomach cramped and the room dipped. His hand felt hot and sticky beneath her own. She watched his face, watched the blood pour from his nose and mouth. It ran down his arms in rivulets and left their hands crimson. Later, she'd learn the blood would stain. Her hands would forever be the red of Arlo's death.

He fell to the floor, his head hitting the floor with a resounding crack. The blood pooled beneath him, trailing around her, bubbling and boiling. The muscles in his biceps and calves twitched and his limbs shook. His chest heaved, and more blood left the lilac of his lips. In that moment, looking down at her blood-stained hands, Flair couldn't help but think her touch was poison.