Chapter 4
The sky was an astonishing shade of blue. Of course, it’s not really blue – that’s simply an optical illusion. But it was a beautiful illusion, all the same. Not a cloud disrupted the gorgeous block of azure. Butterflies fluttered through the school grounds, twisting and turning as they swirled through the school. The air was clean, tinged only by the smell of freshly cut grass.
The rest of the day flew away like a blur. I passed through facilities, vaguely astonished by the size and expense, but none of it really registered with me. I mumbled answers when it was appropriate, not really listening to the onslaught on information the teachers were loading onto me. Finally, I escaped to lunch. Instead of going to the cafeteria I’d been shown, I collapsed onto the wall in relief, sighing heavily.
“It’s not been that bad,” Oli said, sympathetic as always. He was sat next to me on the wall, examining his neatly cut nails. “You’re so overly dramatic all the time.”
“It has been bad!” I said, defensively. “I hate all of this! I hate the people here, I hate the teachers here, I hate –”
“There you go again,” he said, his tone bored. “So overly dramatic. You don’t hate anything, Ivy. You don’t even understand the true meaning of hate. If you’ve truly hated something, you wouldn’t be like this. You would be dark and twisted, condemning everything and everyone as a shallow façade. Hate touches you, the way love doesn’t. It destroys your soul. If you’ve really hated, your aura wouldn’t be this…white and fluffy.”
I glared at him. I was sure he was making stuff up now. “Oli, you –”
There was a vibrating sensation against my right ankle. I frowned, looking down at my school bag, which was next to my foot. I sent Oli a confused glance, but he remained as passive and unhelpful as ever. He really didn’t do much guiding for a guardian angel. Gingerly, I unclasped the top, and looking for the source of the buzzing. Shifting through dozens of unidentifiable tubes, I pulled out a black cell phone.
I looked to Oli again.
“Well,” Oli prompted. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
I turned back to the cell phone, frowning as I searched through all the buttons. There were so many. My brow furrowed as I tried to see all the tiny labels in the sharp sunlight.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Oli said, exasperated. He ripped the phone from my hands, making me gasp. He stabbed at one of the buttons, and held it out to me. I took it back, sending him a reproachful look. I held the gizmo to my face.
“Hello?” I said. There was a silence. Oli sighed, again.
Who was being dramatic now? I thought smugly.
Oli ignored this jibe, and reached out to turn the phone around. Apparently I’d been holding it upside down.
“Hello?” I said, trying again.
“Hey, babe. It’s me, Drake.”
“Uh…”
“Your ex-boyfriend,” Oli quipped helpfully. I batted him away.
“Hello, Drake,” I said, forcing my tone relaxed. I tried to sound airy. “How’s it been?”
“Well,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “I was just thinking about that night in Paris…and I was wondering if we could do it again sometime.”
I was not prepared for this. Oli was looking away again, pretending to be preoccupied with some flowers. I glared at him unhelpful back.
“Sorry,” I said, my tones bright and cheerful. “But I actually, uh, have a boyfriend.” I was inventing things wildly now.
