Page 34 of Echoes of the Banshee

“You do know I’m a goalie?” He puts his hands on his knees and breathes heavily. “And also that I weigh almost four hundred pounds.”

“Do you really?” I ask. He’s shorter than me, a little stocky. If he was nightblind I wouldn’t expect him to weigh more than 180.

“Yes really,” he snaps. “Now why did you drag me out of bed?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He scowls.

“It’s witch stuff.” Kinda a lie, but he just nods.

“Fine. How many more laps do you need? We have practice this afternoon and I don’t want to die.”

“Another two?” I ask. He shakes his head and takes off.

The best friend I’ve ever had.

Probably more a statement about me than him.

Mavrik passes us, headphones in. He hasn’t slowed down.

“Don’t even think about it,” Benson threatens and keeps his regular pace. I huff out a laugh and stay in step next to him. He doesn’t say a word as we do four more laps. When we get to the dorms I hear him collapse onto his bed.

He was right. I’m more than exhausted when coach finally blows the whistle. Dylan tries to rope me into going to get dinner then heading to a party but I tell him I have homework I need to get done first, making a beeline for the library.

I step into the nook and all my problems seem to melt away.

She doesn’t even look up and greet me, just keeps writing in her notebook like it’s the most interesting thing. I smile to myself and drop my bag, sitting beside her.

“Hey, how’s it –” She has a burn on her arm. “What happened?” I reach instinctively towards it but she pulls away.

“Nothing,” she answers too quickly. I raise an eyebrow. “I spilled coffee on myself.”

“Why didn’t you heal it?” It looks bad, at least a second-degree burn.

“I tried, it looked better before.” A snort I can’t hide escapes me.

“Here, let me.” I reach towards her. She lurches back hard, knocking over her water bottle. It falls to the floor with a metallic thud.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t like to be touched.”

“What?” she asks, looking at me in confusion.

“Do you not like to be touched by witches?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says. “Wait, no. I don’t care.”

“Okay, then let me heal you.” I reach towards her arm again and she pulls it against her body.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to touch me. It doesn’t hurt.”

I tilt my head. “You’re jerking away because I don’t like to be touched?”

“Yes?”

I let out a long exhale. I glance around the room, anywhere but at her. “Are you going to ask?”

“Ask what?”