Total shock filled his features. "You do?"
I was no better at reading people than I had been ten seconds ago, but in that moment, I suddenly gained a flash of understanding into the mystery that was Adrian Ivashkov. People didn't believe in him very often. They had low expectations of him, so he did as well. Even Eddie had sort of written him off: He's Adrian. As though there was nothing to be done for it.
I also suddenly realized that, as unlikely as it seemed, Adrian and I had a lot in common. Both of us were constantly boxed in by others' expectations. It didn't matter that people expected everything of me and nothing of him. We were still the same, both of us constantly trying to break out of the lines that others had defined for us and be our own person. Adrian Ivashkov - flippant, vampire party boy - was more like me than anyone else I knew. The thought was so startling that I couldn't even answer him right away.
"I do," I said at last. "I'll help you." I shivered. The fear of the dream returned, and I just wanted this to be over. I would've agreed to anything to be back in my non-magical bed. "But not here. Please - will you send me back? Or end this? Or whatever it is?"
He nodded slowly, still looking stunned. The room began to fade, its colors and lines melting like a painting left in the rain. Soon, all dimmed to black, and I found myself waking up in my dorm room bed. As I did, I just barely caught the sound of his voice in my mind:
Thank you, Sage.
Chapter Nineteen
IF I'D HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING BEFORE, Adrian's dream only made things worse. Even though I was safely back in my own bed, I couldn't shake the
feeling of violation. I imagined that my skin was crawling with the taint of magic. I'd been so anxious to get out of the dream that I'd only half-realized what I'd been agreeing to. I respected Adrian's desire to go to college but now wondered if I should really be helping with that after my father's chastisement about "getting friendly" with vampires.
I wasn't in the greatest of moods when I finally got up a few hours later. The tension in our room was thick as Jill and I prepared for school. Jill's defiance from yesterday was gone, and she kept watching me nervously when she thought I didn't notice. At first, I figured my outburst from last night had made her uneasy. But as we walked out of the room for breakfast, I knew there was more to it.
"What?" I asked bluntly, breaking the silence at last. "What do you want to ask me?"
Jill gave me another wary glance as we joined the rush of other girls heading downstairs. "Um, something happened yesterday."
A lot of things happened yesterday, I thought. That was my overtired, bitter self talking, and I knew that wasn't what she was leading up to.
"Such as?" I asked.
"Well... I was starting to tell you about how Lee took me to that store. That clothing boutique where he knew the owner? Her name's Lia DiStefano. We talked, and she, uh, offered me a job. Kind of."
"The modeling job?" We reached the cafeteria's food line, though I had little appetite. I selected a yogurt, which looked sad and lonely in the middle of my otherwise empty tray. "We talked about that. It's not safe."
Still, it was ironic that a random visit could land Jill a job when three formal interviews had failed for Adrian.
"This isn't for posed pictures that would be in a magazine or anything, though. It's a runway show of local designers. We told her this story that we're part of a religion that has rules about photos and identity. Lia said she'd actually been thinking of having her models wear half masks. Like the kind you wear at a masquerade? Between that and the lighting and the movement... well, it'd be hard to identify me if any candid shots got out. It's just a onetime event, but I'd have to see her beforehand for fittings... and to practice. She'd pay me too, but I'd need rides to get there and parental permission."
We sat down, and I spent an unnecessary amount of time stirring my yogurt as I mulled over her words. I could feel her gaze on me as I thought.
"It's kind of silly, I guess," she continued when I didn't answer. "I mean, I don't have any experience. And I don't even know why she'd want me. Maybe it's some gimmick she's going for. Weird models or something."
I finally ate a bite of yogurt and then looked up at her. "You're not weird, Jill. You really do have the ideal body type for modeling. It's hard to find. For humans, at least." Once again, I tried not to think about how hard it was for us humans to live up to Moroi perfection. I tried not to think about how, years ago, my dad had criticized my figure and said, "If those monsters can do it, why not you?"
"But you still think it's a terrible idea," she said.
I didn't respond. I knew what Jill wanted, but she couldn't bring herself to directly ask me for it. And I couldn't easily give it to her yet. I was still too upset about yesterday and not feeling kindly toward any favors. On the other hand, I couldn't tell her no either. Not yet. Despite how irresponsibly she'd behaved, her words about how miserable her life was here had hit me hard. This was something positive and good that would fill her time. It was also a muchneeded ego boost. Laurel had thrived on using Jill's unusual features against her; it would do Jill good to see that others viewed them positively. She needed to realize she was special and wonderful. I didn't know whether to curse or thank Lee for this opportunity.
"I don't think we can decide anything until we go talk to Mrs. Weathers," I told her at last. I glanced at a nearby clock. "In fact, we need to meet with her now."
I took a few more bites of my yogurt before throwing it away. Jill took a donut to go. When we returned to our lobby, we found out a delivery had arrived for Jill: a bouquet of perfect red roses and an apologetic note from Lee. Jill melted, her face filling with adoration at the gesture. Even I admired the romance of it, though a snarky part of me said maybe Lee should've sent flowers to Eddie and me instead. We were the ones he needed to apologize to.
Regardless, the flowers were quickly forgotten when we sat down in Mrs. Weathers's office and learned the verdict on Jill.
"I spoke to the principal. You aren't being suspended," she told Jill. "But for the next month, you are restricted to your dorm when not in class. You are to report to me immediately after classes end so that I know you're here. You may go to the cafeteria for meals - but only your dorm's. Not the one on West Campus. The only exceptions to this policy are if an assignment or teacher requires you to go elsewhere outside of school hours, like the library."