“What was it?” I glanced up.
He averted his gaze. “It was a mix of stuff.”
I frowned. No matter how private, Hayden usually answered any question I asked. But I must’ve hit a sore spot. Hayden had received a lot of training at the Facility, but out of all the time I’d spent with him and every night we’d fallen asleep talking, he wouldn’t go there. And I must have unwittingly gone there.
“Forget I asked. It’s nothing—not a big deal.”
“Fear,” he admitted, still staring at his hands. “Fear that I could never control it, that I would end up hurting someone.”
Fear of hurting someone sounded all too familiar.
“It wasn’t easy to get past it, Ember. I had to accept what I was, and for the longest time, I thought I could somehow hide it.” Hayden peered up through heavy lashes. “Only when I started to trust myself—trust that I could control it—did I start controlling it.”
“But your gift is natural, something you were born with.”
Hayden sighed, wrapping his fingers around the cuff of my sweater. He had taken to doing that a lot lately. He never touched my skin, so I didn’t mind. I liked to think he wanted to touch me. “You’re not unnatural, Ember.”
“Your father said what I could do was unnatural.”
Anger flared in his eyes, sharp and fierce. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it.” His voice dropped. “You have a gift, Ember. Just like me, like all of us. Don’t you think the way you look at yourself is holding you back?”
“I don’t know. I mean, you and I aren’t the same. You’re perfect at—”
“I’m not perfect.” Letting go of my sleeve, he sat back against the red vinyl and stared out the window. His expression grew troubled, a look he got before drifting off to sleep, when I watched without him knowing. “All of us still struggle to control our gifts. I do. I haven’t always been able to control it.”
“But you do control yourself, and well, I admire your strength.” My cheeks burned, but I continued, because I meant it. “I can’t. Something is wrong with me.”
Hayden rolled his eyes. “You have that strength, too. You’re not evil, Ember. You’re gifted, not cursed.”
A shadow fell over our table, and I looked up, thinking it would be the haggard-looking waitress, but it was the last person I’d expected.
Phoebe appeared pissed off. “Gabe went home or something and I refuse to eat in the cafeteria. Move over, Hayden.”
She still openly hated my guts, even more so after the bonfire. Parker had yet to say a word to me and basically avoided me whenever possible, but I kept reminding myself of what Hayden had said about him. Parker was like damaged goods, kind of like me. At least Gabe no longer looked like he wanted to toss me in front of a bus.
Hayden scooted over. “Are you going to play nice?”
Phoebe dropped her bag on the floor. “I’m always nice.” She glanced over at me.
I raised my brows at her. I hadn’t forgotten what she’d said at the bonfire. However, I was strangely grateful for her interruption. It took the attention off me, and she was good at keeping Hayden occupied. I was pretty sure Phoebe had a thing for him.
She toyed with the edge of her low-cut shirt, and then reached over and oh-so-casually brushed her hand over his while we ate.
Not that I could blame her. I’d love to do what she was doing.
Before the accident, Hayden wouldn’t have been the kind of guy I went for. Watching him flirt with Phoebe, his hair constantly falling over his forehead, I realized I’d had no taste whatsoever before the accident. Now I wished I’d met Hayden before—back when we weren’t each other’s kryptonite.
It was a stupid, pointless realization.
I sank back in my seat and crossed my arms while they talked. Something unfurled in my stomach, killing my appetite. I refused to name the emotion.
When Hayden got up to take care of the tab, Phoebe and I drifted into an epic stare-down. As inconvenient as it was, that’s when I remembered my self-reflection.
I broke the silence. “Look, I know you and I haven’t gotten along.”
She arched a perfectly groomed brow. “What makes you think that?”
I ignored that and tried to forget how she’d denied saying anything about the accident. “I’m not going to ruin things for you, Phoebe. I’m not going to touch someone. You don’t have to worry about the Facility coming for you.”
Phoebe glanced over to where Hayden waited for the cashier. When she faced me again, she bent forward. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for your sister and your mom.”
Geez, I think I’d rather be punched in the face.
“But most of all, I feel sorry for Hayden,” she continued, her voice now laced with bitterness.
I leaned closer. “What?”
She looked at Hayden again. “Because for some reason, he’s hooked on you like you’re some kind of drug. I know he feels bad for you. I can feel it radiating off of him. I understand that. It’s got to suck to be you.”
I pressed my lips together, torn between wanting to smack her and wanting to beat the crap out of her.
“But don’t confuse pity with caring, Ember,” she went on. “Hayden’s always had a soft spot for all things… lost and broken.”
* * *
Later that evening, I shoved my homework off the bed and made my way downstairs to meet up with Hayden. A Friday night spent killing plants—couldn’t get lamer than that.
At dinner, Gabe had tried to talk Hayden into going to the last football game of the season with him and Phoebe, but he’d passed. I think he was more dedicated to this training than I was.
I decided to grab a soda from the kitchen first, but it was occupied. Recognizing the deep rumble of Kurt’s voice, I halted outside the entrance and tried to convince myself I had a valid reason for staying.