His lime-green pin-striped shirt.
Blythe might have done something to make him forget everything that had happened, but apparently she hadn’t been able to give him new dress sense.
“David, Harper is one of our finest students,” Headmaster Dunn continued, like he’d never met David before in his life. Like David hadn’t gone to this school since kindergarten, same as me. Again, I glanced to Blythe, and she smirked at me, wiggling her fingers behind Headmaster Dunn’s back.
I didn’t want to be impressed with that level of mind-control magic, but seeing as how the last time I saw David, he’d been bleeding out on the floor of a cave in Tennessee, I wasn’t going to complain.
Headmaster Dunn was still talking—I know he called Blythe David’s “sister” at one point—but all I could do was stare at David while trying to pretend I wasn’t staring at him. He looked so . . . him. Ugly clothes, sharp gaze, hair neater, but probably just seconds away from being a disaster . . .
Headmaster Dunn turned to leave, and as he did, David looked to me, eyebrows raised over the rims of his glasses.
“So I guess you’re my tour guide?” he said, and a dimple appeared in his cheek as he smiled.
I found myself smiling back even as I was terrified to even hope it could work out like this.
“Yeah,” I said, “let me . . . let me just chat with your, uh, sister for a sec.”
I stepped aside, and Blythe moved closer, her back to David, her head lowered so that she could pitch her voice just for my ears.
“I kick so much ass, right?” she asked, smile wide, eyes bright, and despite everything, I laughed. It was shaky and maybe a little unhinged, but it was a laugh.
“How?” I asked, and then suddenly, I knew. “The other spell. The one that freaked Dante out.”
She nodded. “Resurrection spell. Terrifying, and nothing I ever want to try again, but—”
“It worked,” I finished.
“I told you,” she said, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. I had no idea how she wasn’t sweating to death, but she definitely looked the part of Responsible Older Sister Guardian. “I am so badass. Granted, those spells were a lot easier to do on someone who was more or less dead than it would have been a conscious, pissed-off rogue Oracle.”
Folding her arms over her chest, Blythe continued. “Although trust me, that was nothing compared to the work it took to get your whole freaking town to forget David had been here before.”
For a second, I just blinked at her, afraid I might do something crazy like cry. But instead, I did something even crazier.
I hugged her.
She just stood there as I squeezed her tight, but after a minute, I felt her arms come up tentatively to wrap around me, too, and when we pulled away, she was smiling at me. A real smile. Little and hesitant, but not even the littlest bit unhinged.
“This is redemption, right?” she asked. “Like you talked about? I mean, I fixed it. Granted, it’s possible he’s going to remember eventually, and that’s gonna be a real pain in the ass, but—”
I nodded at her, suddenly aware of David watching us curiously. He had to wonder why I was hugging his sister, and we’d probably lingered here too long. So I took a deep breath through my nose and backed up from Blythe.
“Consider yourself redeemed,” I told her.
A dimple appeared in her cheek as she gave a quick nod, clearly satisfied, and then her gaze slid to David. “Have a good first day,” she told him. “I’ll . . . make dinner. Or something.”
David shrugged his shoulders, and I found myself wondering just how that living arrangement was going to work. The idea of Blythe as anyone’s guardian was a little scary, but then I reminded myself that David had done a good job on his own after Saylor was gone, so maybe he’d survive having Blythe as a roommate.
I turned back to him now, feeling almost like I should pinch myself. He was so . . . here.
He smiled a little at me, then gestured for me to lead the way. I did, rattling off facts about the school, about the town, anything I could think of even as my mind whirled. In the cave, Blythe had said she had a way to fix him so that he wouldn’t be an Oracle anymore, but I’d never thought we’d get to start over, clean slate.
I’d spent my whole life with David Stark, pretty much. Hating him, loving him, protecting him, and, eventually, killing him. Starting over as strangers was going to hurt, even as I wanted to do cartwheels down the hall that he was here, that we had made it through this.
I hadn’t realized that I was leading him toward the newspaper classroom until we were there in front of it, and I paused, awkwardly playing with the silver ring on my right hand as I gestured to the door. “This is Journalism,” I told him, gesturing at the door, and I realized that I was waiting for him to show some sign of recognition. Blythe had said he might remember one day, and while she’d been convinced it would be a “pain in the ass,” I thought maybe—just maybe—it would be a good thing.
Ducking his head to look inside the little window set in the door, David raised his eyebrows.
“Cool. What’s your school paper like? I love that kind of thing.”
My heart felt so full it seemed like there couldn’t be any room left in my chest. “It’s good,” I told him, “although the last editor was kind of a jerk.”
He snorted at that, reaching up to push his glasses up his nose. It was the most familiar gesture in the world, and I found myself looking into his eyes. His blue, blue eyes fringed by long lashes. Just regular eyes in a regular face on a regular boy.
“So what do you do around here?” he asked, and I folded my arms, giving a little shrug. “Everything, really,” I told him. “Cheerleading, a few committees, SGA president . . .”
That made one corner of his mouth kick up. There had been a time when I would have kissed that spot, just where a little dimple formed. I couldn’t do that now, of course.
But it wouldn’t always be that way. I believed that with all my heart.
“SGA president, huh?” he asked. “So can I call you Pres?”
It took me a second to reply, but when I did, my smile was so big, it actually hurt my face.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can.”
Acknowledgments
I STARTED THE Rebel Belle series in October of 2008, so I’ve been living with these books for a long time now. And that, of course, means the people in my life have been living with me living with these books for a long time! So first and foremost, I have to thank John and Will for putting up with me as I wrestled with another trilogy, as I muttered about Paladins and Oracles and acted out fight scenes in the living room. My books can be filled with angst and drama and craziness because my life is full of the happiness and calm you guys provide me, and I’m so thankful for that.
Thanks, too, to “The Mama,” for supporting your weird, scribbling kid and having an Azalea Trail Girl dress made for me even if I never did get to wear it.
I write books about Ladies Getting It Done, and I’m lucky enough to have a life full of such amazing ladies. Chantel Acevedo, Ash Parsons, Julia Brown, Victoria Schwab, my sweet “C-Lo,” y’all are always there with e-mails or texts or lunches out (and drinks, let’s be real), and I love you all bunches.
Thank you, too, to everyone at Penguin/Putnam for all you’ve done for me and these books. Jen Besser, Mia Garcia, Anna Jarzab, Rachel Lodi, Elyse Marshall, and Tara Shanahan, y’all are an amazing group of women to work with, and I am so appreciative! Tiaras for ALL!
I shudder to think what my books would look like without the fierce and guiding hand of Ari Lewin. I feel so lucky to have gotten to make an entire trilogy with you, and am so proud of our “book babies.” And thanks, too, to Katherine Perkins for your smart, insightful notes and your dedication to making these books the best they can be!
I’ve been fortunate enough to get to work with Hol
ly Root on every book I’ve ever published, and still think that getting her as my agent was my luckiest break.
For all of you who have stuck with me and Harper through all three books, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
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