Celestra Forever After (15 page)

Skyla

Friday night, the field at Host University is flooded with students and parents alike, for, this, the first game of the season. Brielle and I find a seat up high in the grandstands where we have an eagle’s eye view of the entire stadium. These are the big leagues compared to West Paragon High. These were infinitely more serious games than those backyard brawls the boys played at home.

The
boys
—as in Gage and Logan. I finger the mirrored heart dangling from my necklace and cradle it in my hand. It sits faithfully right next to the Eye of Refuge, the protective hedge, that Logan and I fought so hard for, a baby blue stone set in silver filigree. But this heart is the same one Logan gifted me last year on my birthday. I hold it out and read the inscription on the front,
Whitehorse
. It’s the name of the street Logan built our dream home on—right on the sandy white shore across from the bowling alley. I flip the mirrored heart around and read the inscription on the back.

Skyla, you’ll always be my princess
.

I sniff back tears and shake my head as I take in a lungful of sheeted fog. If I close my eyes, I can fool myself into believing this is Paragon—that it’s last year all over again, and at any minute Logan will stand next to Gage out there. But, then, if it were last year, I’d be out on the field right there with them in my cheer uniform with Brielle by my side, and, well, Chloe. As much as I miss West, I miss nothing about Chloe Bishop.

The game starts, and I struggle to see Gage, struggle to see anyone down on the field. The floodlights are hitting the fog just right, and, the way the mist is wafting in and out, the field is only visible for a few short seconds at a time. The dragon painted across the Student Union—Omen—stains the night, emerging and slipping away in the fog like a nightmare. His serpentine body flexes in the shape of the letter S—demonic and foreboding. The artist chose a motley palate of blistering reds, sepias, and caustic greens to bring his scaly form to life. A mammoth fire barrels out of him with such realism it’s a wonder the building hasn’t burned down. His eyes shine like red traffic lights as they illuminate into the night. He’s horrific in every way—menacing to look at right down to his charred, feathered wings.

Brielle leans in as the game gets underway. “Did you hear Chloe is coaching cheer?”

I cinch back. “Mia said something about that, but it can’t be true.”

“It’s true all right. I had to go and pick up some crap I left in my locker, and, sure enough, she was right there, barking out orders with Em like it was yesterday.” She averts her eyes. “Well, it was yesterday, but you know what I mean.”

“Holy shit.” I sit up stunned by the news. “What the hell does this mean?” God, I’m going to have to talk to Mia and Melissa and pray it’s not too late to inoculate them against all of Bishop’s schemes. But what the hell would she be scheming now? I mean, it’s pretty much a done deal—Gage is mine. “I guess she really is obsessed with cheer.”

“Totally. There’s nothing Chloe loves more.” She gives a sideways look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She reverts her attention to the game.

“Maybe we should just drop it.” I’ll die before I let Chloe steal any more attention from this game. It’s Gage’s first time on a college field. This is
huge,
but deep down it’s killing me not to know what the hell Chloe is up to. “Okay, spill it Bree because there’s no way I’ll be able to focus tonight if you don’t tell me whatever the hell it is you know.”

“Fine.” She sighs as if I had worn her down. “She just had questions, you know, about Gage. She misses him and wants to know what he’s up to and with who.”

“With
who
?” As if. Chloe is trying to throw me off the scent. “And what did you say?” I strangle her arm in the process.

“Relax, would you?” She does her best to push me away, but I’m immovable. “I said he’s busy at Host with
you
. There. Happy?”

“Yes, I’m delirious.” I smooth out the sleeve of her sweater before replacing my hands on my lap. Someone calls a timeout down on the field, so I don’t feel too bad dividing my attention. I do a quick sweep of the stands and spot Dr. Oliver and Emma sitting down front with Dr. Flanders by their side. I bet Laken is here somewhere. I look to his left and spot her looking up, so I wave her over.

“Laken!” I shout as she makes her way up. As soon as she gets close, I pull her into the empty seat next to me. “Laken, this is Brielle—Bree this is Laken.”

“Nice to meet you.” Laken extends her hand and they shake. “My boyfriend made it as a walk-on.” She pants it through a smile to Brielle.

“No way!” Brielle bounces in her seat. “That’s awesome!”

“I don’t think they’ll play him tonight, but we’re pretty excited.”

The game starts up again. The team is all the way at the other end of the field, and it’s impossible to tell who’s who. Both teams’ uniforms are white, and from here it’s hard to make out Gage’s number—unlucky 13.

A group of hyped up cheerleaders shout and dance down on the grass in front of us, and I can’t help but notice how cute they look in those ultra short skirts, their white cropped sweaters with a crimson ribbon running through it at the waist. Those high ponytails, that bright red lipstick—it all brings back memories from West, and, ironically, I think they’re good ones. It’s nice to know Chloe hasn’t marred my feelings for West in general.

“Earth to Skyla.” Brielle runs her hand over my face. “Don’t tell me the cheer bug is biting you on the ass again.”

“No—it’s just I sort of miss cheering for Gage.”

Laken leans in and wrinkles her nose. “I hated cheer. I was the most uncoordinated person out there. I’m surprised I wasn’t mistaken for a Spectator and shot on sight.”

I give a little laugh before leaning into Bree. “Spectator’s are these zombie-like creatures.”

“I know,” she says it curt while lifting a shoulder in Laken’s direction.

“So, what are you guys doing after the game?” Laken leans in extra hard, trying to reengage Brielle into the conversation. “There’s a party at Phi Beta Kappa. Coop says the entire team is heading there afterwards.”

“For sure Gage and I will be there.” I have a feeling a good college party is just what Bree needs. “And, of course, Brielle will come, too.” I turn to Laken. “She’s decided to take some time off school, but I’m hoping a taste of some wild college nightlife will be all it takes to lure her back to the scholastic dark side.” I bump Bree’s shoulder in the process.

“Oh, wait.” Laken touches her fingers to her lips. “I think they’ve got some weird student-only policy. It’s some stupid safety implement. You’ll need a school ID to get in.”

Crap.

“No big deal.” I sling an arm around Brielle’s shoulder. “We’ll just head to a different party. There’s got to be one on campus that doesn’t require a student ID.”

Laken shrinks a little and shakes her head. “Sorry. It was that way all last summer, too. But if you want, maybe we can all go and get something to eat instead?”

Brielle’s mouth opens as if she’s going to say something before her features sag, and that happy-go-lucky smile slides right off her face. “You know, I think I’ll pass. You guys go ahead and party with the boys. They deserve to hang out with the team tonight. I need to get home to Drake anyway.”

“Brielle and Drake have a baby,” I tell Laken just as the crowd erupts with boos and jeers.

Laken’s eyes widen a moment. “I can’t imagine raising a baby right now. That must be really tough.”

“Oh, we’re not
raising
the baby.” Bree flicks her wrist at the idea. “That’s what Skyla’s mom is for.”

Laken closes her mouth, and I shake my head at her. I’ll fill her in on Bree and Drake’s insanity some other time. Instead, I settle in and watch as Gage runs the ball before getting sacked. He bounces up and dusts himself off again, and I cheer him on, just as hard and enthusiastic as if I were down on that field with him.

We scream our heads off for the Host Dragons and watch as the boys bring it home for a victory of 22 to 13.

An icy breeze whips through the stands, and I pull my hands into my sleeves. I know for a fact things will heat up later because I’ll have my favorite warm body to keep me toasty. It’s so nice to be in love—to have friends who feel the very same way. I glance over at Laken with a goofy grin plastered to my face only she’s not smiling back. She’s not even looking in the direction of the game. Her face is pale as chalk, her eyes wide with horror.

“Skyla?” It comes from her weak.

“What’s the matter?”

“I thought you said Gage was playing tonight.”

“He is.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

I follow her gaze, and it takes a moment for me to see whatever it is that has her rattled before he pops into my line of vision, free and clear—Wes.

“Crap. I’m sorry.”

“What’s the big fuss?” Brielle cranes her neck in the direction we’re looking in. “Son of a bitch, she’s here!” She bounces in her seat and waves.

“Who’s here?” The words hardly leave my mouth before my jaw hits the bottom of the grandstands. “Double crap.”

“Who’s that?” Laken sounds perturbed by the entire scenario playing out before her. I can’t say I blame her. It’s hard enough to see your ex after all these years—even tougher when a wench like Chloe Bishop is glued to his side.

“That’s Chloe,” Brielle chirps. “She went to West with us.” She gives an enthusiastic wave in her direction, and, horror upon horrors, Chloe waves back.

I smack Bree in the arm. “She went to
West
with us? Emily, Lexy, and Nat went to West with us. Chloe
killed
Logan—remember? In fact, that’s the only way we should ever remember her—as a murderer. She’s wicked. She’s evil. She’s the embodiment of all that is wrong with this world and the next.”

“And she’s heading over.” Bree gives a complacent smile into the bleachers.

We head down to the field as the crowd starts to mingle with the team.

Wes and Chloe actually have the balls to head in our direction, and every fiber of my being shakes with anger.

Wes gives a gentle smile, looking every bit like my almost lover, while Chloe snuggles up beside him in a fur coat that cost dozens of rabbits their lives. Figures. The fact Chloe robes herself in death seems fitting.

“Skyla.” Wes keeps his eyes on his once upon a girlfriend. “
Laken
.”

Shit. This is definitely not good. Laken looks as if she’s going to evaporate right along with the fog if she gets any paler.

Laken cuts a glance from him to Chloe. “I’m sorry, Wes, I’m not ready to do this.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “I’ll see you later, Skyla.” She turns and ditches into the crowd.

“Wow,” Chloe chokes the word out. “That’s the little mouse that gets you going?”

“Shut up,” Wes growls.

I like him just a little bit more now—emphasis on little.

“So, like, how’d you change so fast?” Brielle looks perplexed. “And what’s this hanging out with Chloe business?” She giggles to herself. “Aren’t you like diabolical enemies?” She turns to me. “It looks like I’m not the only one who needs a refresher on the long list of felonies she’s responsible for. Anyway, I’d better run if I’m going to catch the next ferry. I’ve got a hot date with Candy Crush tonight—hell, I might even let Drake score if you know what I mean. I’m in the mood for a bodily sneeze.” She winks in my direction. Bodily
sneeze
is Brielle’s code for orgasm, and instantly Logan wafts in and out of my mind like a sexed-up ghost. “I’ll see you at practice, Chloe!” She waves before taking off as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have the queen of mean standing right here in front of me.

I pull Chloe in by that fur ball she’s tucked herself in.

“What the
fuck
are you doing here?” I grit it through my teeth. “And what the hell don’t you understand about a banishment?”

“Take it up with your mother.” Chloe hocks back and spits in my eye before pushing me off. Something in the sky catches her attention. “I have to go,” she hisses at Wes, her face rife with worry. Chloe dives into the crowd like she’s evading the police, and, before I know it, a plume of black smoke erupts from that direction.

“I’ve always figured Chloe was nothing but a ball of gas. And what’s with the not-so-discrete disappearing act? She keeps that crap up and she’ll land us all in some government test lab before the night is through.”

Wes raises a brow. “Not a bad idea,” he muses. “But let the record show, I thought of it first.” He turns to take off, and I pluck him back by his jacket. “What do you want, Wes? And why the hell haven’t you taken my blood?” There it is. A sick part of me has been craving the Tenebrous Woods—dying on the inside to speak to Logan one more time, to touch him.

“It turns out I don’t need your blood after all, Skyla.” He gently removes my hand and places it by my side. Something in his action makes my stomach sink. Dear God, he’s a carbon copy of Gage with the exception of those lime-green eyes. “Now that my full potential has been reached, I’ll never need it again.”

“Because you’re a Fem and all your wickedness has finally been unleashed.” Fantastic. Now I’ll never see the inside of that hellhole again. Crap. Did I just say that?

Wes smooths his finger over my cheek. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His eyes sharpen over mine. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, but not for what I’m about to do next.” Wes turns and takes off into the crowd.

“Wait!” I try to catch up to him, but he’s gone, sunk into the sea of bodies, invisible as he blends in with the masses.

What the hell is he going to do next?