But her first love will always be writing. Otherwise, hearing voices in her
head would make her feel schizophrenic.
My tongue played in the hollow of one of my canines as I debated whether or not to seize the opportunity. I wanted to know more about Logan and what his deal was, but not at the expense of this boy who was obviously suffering from his ties. My desire for information won. “Logan isn’t an easy guy to be friends with, is he?”
Sawyer deflated. “He didn’t used to be like this. He was a pretty good guy once.” He started walking back the way he’d come. “Now he seems to be all hate.”
I fell into step beside him. “Did something happen?”
He stopped, his eyes meeting mine. They were a washed-out green, but as I watched a hint of a red glow crept into them. He blinked hard, rubbing the closed lids. “Contacts,” he mumbled.
I got close to him, speaking in a low voice for his ears only. “I don’t think it is contacts. I think it’s fae.”
His eyelids flew up and there was no doubt about it. The irises moved like liquid, glowing in reds and oranges. The only word I could think of to describe it was lava. My hand flew to my throat and I took an involuntary step backwards. All fae had a tell—like my glow or Antonio’s skin ripple. I’d just found his. A voice I didn’t recognize rasped out of my own throat. “What are you?”
“You faced down Logan, who’s a Metus Daemon—the basis of the mythical fear demon—and I freak you out?” He snorted and shook his head.
“I just wasn’t prepared, sorry. Is this entire school fae?”
“Not the entire school.”
I laughed as we started walking again. “So seriously, what happened?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I don’t know. Until this year, sure he was a little cranky. He’s raising his little sister, so who could blame him. But toward the end of the summer he started going on and on about living ‘his glory days’ and it’s like he’s another person. When it’s just me and him at his house he’s normal, but then it’s like someone flips a switch and I’m putting out fires. I suppose who better to put out fires than a Vulcan.”
“Wait, like pointy-eared aliens?”
Sawyer snickered. “It’s only logical.” He flashed me a grin. “Not that kind of Vulcan. More like volcanologist.”
“Oh, like volcanoes. So it was lava in your eyes.”
His shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t wanna brag. What about you?”
“I’m more like astronomy.” My mouth twisted up into a grin. “I’m a Stardancer.”
“Oh, so you’re like bottled supernova.”
Reading Renee 