Beautiful Secrets (Cranksepticeye Fanfiction)

~1.12~ Promise

There was something in the air. Usually, when you heard that, there wasn't really something in the air. But the closer it got to Jack's birthday, the more I had to wonder. When we came back from winter break, the halls had been tagged with spray paint, covering the lockers and walls. Only it wasn't the usual graffiti; the words didn't even look like English. You wouldn't have thought they were words at all, unless you had seen The Book of Moons.
A week later, every window in our English classroom was busted out. Again, it could have been the wind, except there wasn't even a breeze. How could the wind target a single classroom, anyway?
Now that I wasn't playing basketball, I had to take P.E. for the rest of the year, by far the worst class at Jackson. After an hour of timed sprints and rope burn from climbing a knotted rope to the gym ceiling, I got back to my locker to find the door open and my papers scattered all over the hall. My backpack was gone. Though Mark found it a few hours later, dumped in a trashcan outside the gym, I had learned my lesson. Jackson High was no place for The Book of Moons.
From then on, we kept the Book in my closet. I waited for Anna to discover it, to say something, to cover my room with salt, but she never did. I had pored over the old leather book, with and without Jack, using my mom's battered Latin dictionary, for the past six weeks. Anna's oven mitts helped me keep the burns to a minimum. There were hundreds of Casts, and only a few of them were in English. The rest were written in languages I couldn't read, and the Caster language we couldn't hope to decipher. As we grew more familiar with the pages, Jack grew more restless.
"Claim yourself. That dosen't even mean anything."
"Of course it does."
"None of the chapters say anything about it. It's not in any description of the Claiming in the Book."
"We just have to keep looking. It's not like we're going to read it in the Cliff Notes." The Book of Moons had to have the answer, if we could just find it. We couldn't think about anything else, except the fact that in a month from now we could lose it all.

At night, we stayed up late talking, from our respective beds, because even now, every night seemed closer to the night that could be our last.
What are you thinking, Jack?
Do you really want to know?
I always want to know.
Did I? I stared at the creased map on my wall, the thin green line connecting all the places I had read about. There they were, all the cities of my imaginary future, held together with tape and marker and pins. In six months, a lot had changed. There was no thin green line that could lead me to my future anymore. Just a boy.
But now, his voice was small, and I had to strain to hear him.
There's a part of me that wishes we'd never met.
You're kidding, right?
He didn't answer. Not right away.
It just makes everything so much harder. I thought I had a lot to lose before, but now I have you.
I know what you mean.
I knocked the shade off the lamp next to my bed and stared straight into the bulb. If I stared right at it, the brightness would sting my eyes and keep me from crying.
And I could lose you.
That's not gonna happen, Jack.
He was quiet. My eyes were temporarily blinded by swirls and streaks of light. I couldn't even see the blue of my bedroom ceiling, though I was staring right at it.
Promise?
I promise.
It was a promise he knew I might not be able to keep. But I made it anyway because I was going to find a way to make it true.
I burned my hand as I tried to turn out the light.