Let the Storm Break

CHAPTER 19 VANE

I wake up in my bed, not sure how I got there. My head is a blur and my memories are even blurrier. But I’m very aware that there’s an arm wrapped around me.

I pull myself up and all I see is blond wavy hair.

“What the crap?” I shout, jumping to my feet.

I’m relieved when I see that I’m still wearing yesterday’s clothes, but: How the hell did Solana end up in my bed?

And what happened while she was here???

“It’s okay,” she says, sitting up and brushing her hair out of her eyes, like it’s totally normal that we just spent the night together. At least she’s wearing clothes too—though I don’t know if her itty-bitty dress really counts. I’m sure my mom would—

“Oh, God—you have to get out of here. My mom’s going to freak.”

I’ll be grounded for the rest of eternity and she’ll make me sit through every after-school special on teenage pregnancy and STDs and . . .

“Actually, your mom knows I’m here.”

“What?”

“She insisted I stay on top of the covers, and we had to keep the door open—”

“Okay, what?”

I spin around, and sure enough, my door is open. And those definitely sound like my mom’s kind of rules, but . . . she wouldn’t even leave Audra and me alone for two seconds.

“She fought us at first,” Solana admits. “But when I explained that I could help you sleep, she agreed.”

Still. I can’t even . . .

“Wait, I slept?”

“What else did you think you’ve been doing all night?”

My turn to blush. “I don’t know. I was kind of a mess.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” She stands up, looking around like she’s trying to decide whether or not to leave.

Part of me wants her to go. But I remember my promise to Gus.

Plus, she did help me sleep—for a really long time. According to my clock it’s 12:24, which is later than my mom has ever let me sleep in. I’m still tired, but the worst of the exhaustion has faded.

I run my hands through my hair and sit on the edge of the bed. “Sorry. This is all just really weird.”

“I know,” Solana mumbles, smoothing the thin yellow fabric of her dress, making it hug her curves even more. “It is for me, too.”

She says the last part so softly it’s almost like she doesn’t want me to hear her. But I do. And I feel even more like crap.

“Look, about yesterday . . .”

I don’t even know where to start. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that she’s here. With creases from my pillow pressed into her cheek. Standing next to a pile of folded boxers I never bothered putting away.

So I go with the only thing I can think of. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

She bites her lips and looks away. “It’s fine.”

Wow, she’s an even worse liar than me.

But I don’t know what else to say to make it better.

“So, um, how did you help me sleep?” I ask, deciding it’s easier to change the subject. “I thought the Gales had already tried everything they could think of.”

“They didn’t know about enticing. It’s a trick I came up with a few years ago, and I’ve only tried it on one other person.” She walks to my window, which is closed tight for the first time since Audra left. “My former guardian used to have horrible flashbacks at night, and I knew Southerlies could draw memories, so I tried sending one into her mind to see if I could change her dreams. It took me a little while to find the right command, and it only works if I’m there to keep control. But she said it helped.”

“It does.”

Now that my head is clearing I can remember reliving a memory of Audra and me in the snow. I’ve never had any flashes of that moment before, but now that it’s back, I’m going to hold on to it as tight as I can.

She stayed with me that cold, scary day, holding my hand.

She cared.

And if she wouldn’t leave me when we were just stupid kids who didn’t even like each other, how could she leave me now?

But she did leave, my brain reminds me, and I want to rip it out and stomp it into a pulp. She’s been gone twenty-five days.

Yeah, but she promised she’d be back, and I have to believe that. I’m not giving up hope just because she sent two vague words across the sky.

Not yet, at least.

“Are you okay?” Solana asks as I get up and walk to my dresser, searching for gum or something to get rid of my toxic morning breath. I settle for a crushed Mento that’s probably been in my pocket for at least a month, but hey, it’s minty—not that I’m trying to impress Solana. Which is good because I also catch a glimpse of my hair in the mirror, and dang, I never realized it could be tall-and-bumpy and greasy-and-plastered-to-my-head all at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just still tired.”

“I know. The Gales said you hadn’t slept in weeks.” She drops her eyes to her hands, twisting a wide gold cuff on her wrist. “They asked if I’d be willing to stay with you at night to help you sleep. I told them I would, if you were okay with it.”

I accidentally swallow my Mento.

I’m coughing so hard I can’t speak, which is probably better because I don’t know what to do with the idea of having a hot girl in my bed all night. I mean, that’s kinda the ultimate fantasy, except . . .

Wrong girl.

And what if Audra came home and found us together?

“That sounds like a really bad idea,” I tell her when my voice is finally working again.

“Why?”

“Because . . .” I can’t believe I even have to explain this. She’s my ex-fiancée—sorta—and I usually sleep in my boxers! “I don’t know. You really don’t think it would be weird?”

Solana shrugs and looks away, and I can see her cheeks turning pink. And that’s when I realize . . .

When I woke up, her arm was wrapped around me.

All this time I’ve been assuming Solana’s just as relieved about the no-more-betrothal as me. But maybe . . .

Solana pulls her hair around her face, hiding behind it as she picks up a framed photo from my desk. It’s a picture of me with my parents on a hiking trip from a few years ago.

“I guess we come from two different worlds,” she says quietly. “You grew up here, in a house with a family—not knowing anything about sylphs or Raiden or me. But I’ve spent my whole life on the run, never having a home or more possessions than what I could carry. Even my guardians were sometimes taken from me. . . .” Her voice cracks and she sets the picture down and turns to face me. “The only thing I ever had to hold on to was you.”

It’s hard to swallow again, but this time it’s a lump in my throat, not a Mento.

I clear it away. “Solana—”

“Don’t,” she whispers. “I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I don’t even know you. I just . . .” Her eyes well with tears and she blinks them back. “It’s just hard getting used to the idea of a completely different life.”

I can definitely understand that feeling.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, sitting back down on the bed. “This is all such a mess, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she agrees, sniffling.

It’s so insane. Solana’s standing here crying over me—meanwhile Audra may have already dumped me.

I sigh. “You’re better off without me. Really. I’m a pain. And I’m horrible with girls. Just ask anyone I’ve ever dated.”

“Oh. So . . . you’ve dated?”

My brain turns into a running stream of expletives.

Why? Why did I bring this up?

“Um . . . well . . . that’s kinda what everyone does around here, so . . . yeah. But Audra always stepped in and broke things up before anything could happen so—”

“Audra went on your dates?”

I can’t help smiling as I remember some of my most infamous dating disasters. “Let’s just say she took her job very seriously.”

“Oh.” Solana sweeps back her hair and adjusts her dress, making her cleavage pop out even more. “That’s good, I guess. I always thought it was strange that the Gales chose her as your guardian. I mean, isn’t she our age?”

“She is.”

I’m about to say more when I realize that the frown on Solana’s face looks a lot like jealousy. And the last thing I need is any Audra-Solana drama.

A really really really really really really really really long, uncomfortable silence follows. I’m reaching the point of wanting to scream into a pillow when Solana finally says, “So . . .”

She hovers near the edge of the bed, like she’s debating about whether she should sit next to me. I scoot over and she sits.

It’s hard to ignore the part of my brain screaming, PRETTY GIRL ON MY BED!!!!!!! Especially when she turns to me and asks, “So, you really don’t want to sleep with me?”

I can’t help blushing. “I don’t know.”

“You need to sleep, right?”

I really do—and it’s a pretty sweet bonus that her little dream trick also helps me bring back more memories.

I clear my throat. “I guess we could try it. But I’m not up for every night.”

“Don’t worry. I have to sleep sometimes too.”

“Oh, right. Wait—were you awake last night?”

She nods and I can’t decide if that’s embarrassing or creepy—but I’m guessing it’s both because I feel almost violated.

Especially when she adds, “You mumble sometimes.”

My face seriously feels like it’s going to burst into flames at this point. “Do I want to know what I said?”

“Probably not.”

“Oh, God.”

“Relax, I’m kidding. I honestly couldn’t understand most of it. The only word I caught was ‘stay.’ ”

“Stay,” I repeat.

“Yeah. When we brought you home. Your mom was arguing with the Gales and I wasn’t sure if I should be here, since you’d been so angry earlier. But when I tried to pull my hand away your grip tightened and you mumbled, ‘Stay.’ So I did.”

Her cheeks flush and she stares at her right wrist, twisting the golden cuff again.

She must’ve thought I meant that for her.

“Is that bracelet from your parents?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Actually the Gales gave it to me.” Several seconds pass before she adds, “It’s what we call a link. Most people wear them on their left wrist to symbolize their bond, but they gave me this to represent . . .”

She doesn’t finish. But when she holds it out to me I can see the letters S and V etched into the center of a carving of the sun.

“Well,” I say, trying to keep my tone light. “Guess you don’t have to wear that anymore.”

“Yeah. True.”

And yet, she doesn’t take it off.

I have a feeling I know what that means.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” my mom calls from the doorway—because apparently the universe decided this moment needed to be even more awkward. “Did you have a good night?”

She grins at me and I’m pretty sure it’s proof that my mom’s been body snatched. Especially when she turns to Solana and says, “Thank you so much for doing this.”

“Of course.”

I’m relieved to hear the slight squeak in Solana’s voice. At least she realizes how weird this is.

My mom hands her a pale yellow satchel. “I had the Gales bring over your things so you can shower and change. You’ll want to use my bathroom. Vane hasn’t cleaned his in so long it’s probably a public health hazard.”

“I’ve had a few things going on,” I grumble.

“The bathroom’s just through my bedroom,” my mom tells Solana, pointing down the hallway. “Clean towels are on the counter and help yourself to anything else you want. You know how to work a shower, right?”

“She’s a sylph, not an alien, Mom,” I interrupt as Solana slips past my mom and disappears down the hall.

My mom blushes. “Right.” She waits until Solana closes the bathroom door. Then she turns to me and says, “So, interesting night.”

“Yeah, no kidding—and since when are you okay with letting a hot girl sleep in my room?”

I glance back at the bed, not sure how to get rid of the image of Solana stretched out there. I think I’ll need to have Audra help me replace it . . .

“Oh, please, Vane. I knew you two were only sleeping—and I was happy to see you finally get some rest.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my mother?”

My mom laughs. “Stop being so weird and go get cleaned up. I’m making breakfast.”

I’m being weird?

Me?

I stomp to the bathroom and jump in the shower. The water falls like a trickle and I realize Solana’s stealing all the water pressure—which is a bad thing to think about because suddenly I’m imagining her all wet and steamy and—

Why does she have to be hot?

Couldn’t the Gales have betrothed me to some hook-nosed hunchback with warts and a snaggletooth?

Or couldn’t she at least be as uninterested in me as I am in her?

I think about the sadness in her eyes when she told me I was all she’s had to hold on to.

I know what she means. That’s how it was for me, with Audra . . .

I rinse my hair and turn the water off, relieved when I hear Solana’s shower still running. Let’s hope she’s one of those girls who takes forever in the bathroom because I need to have a talk with my mom. She’s being a little too nice about this whole thing, and I have a horrible feeling I know why. My mom’s never been the biggest Audra fan. She basically blames her for all the dangerous things that have happened lately—and the last thing I need is for her to play matchmaker.

The smell of bacon hits me as I make my way toward the kitchen, but my mom’s not making torpedoes like I thought. The counter is covered with her waffle iron and bowls of strawberries and candied nuts and homemade whipped cream.

She’s making sugarwaffles, something she only makes a couple of times a year because they’re so much work. And she has to make the batter the night before, so clearly she’s been planning this from pretty much the moment Solana got here.

“What?” she asks when she catches me scowling.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Oh please.” I grab one of the strawberries—which she dipped in freaking chocolate—and take a bite. “You never do all this when Isaac stays the night.”

“That’s because I’ve seen Isaac eat a cheeseburger that’s been sitting in his car all day. Plus I know he likes burritos better. How’s he doing, by the way? I never see him anymore.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. I get it. You like Solana.”

“I do like Solana. She seems like a very nice girl, and I wanted to do something to thank her for staying up all night to help you sleep. I’ve been so worried about you, honey.”

She reaches up and brushes my damp hair out of my eyes, and I notice she has a deep crease pressed between her brows.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Are you? Because all I see is you racing off on secret missions and being dragged home unconscious.”

She’s right. That pretty much sums up my last few weeks.

My mom sighs. “I know you didn’t ask for any of this and I know you’re trying to be careful. But I also just want to make sure you’re happy.”

“I am.”

My mom puts the bacon she’s been frying on a paper towel to drain. “Can I ask you something?”

I grab a slice and take a bite. “Maybe.”

She doesn’t look at me, focusing on the waffle batter she’s stirring when she asks, “Where’s Audra?”

“I’ve told you I don’t know.”

“I know. But . . . don’t you think you should know—if she means as much to you as I think she does—”

I shush her, glancing down the hall to make sure my parents’ bathroom door is still closed. It is. And I can hear the sink running, so I doubt Solana can hear. But still.

The Gales know my mom knows about Audra. I told them we used the girlfriend thing as a cover and that my mom still doesn’t realize it was an act. I’m pretty sure they bought it. But the last thing I need is to give Solana another reason to feel jealous.

“I just think it says something that she’s not back yet,” my mom says quietly. “And I’d hate for you to pass up something that could be great just because you have your heart set on something that might already be over.”

“It’s not over.”

It’s not.

“And what do you mean, ‘pass up’? What do you know?”

“Nothing,” she insists. But her cheeks are too flushed and her voice is too squeaky.

“The Gales told you, didn’t they?”

I never told my parents about the betrothal—why would I? I ended it. But I always figured my mom would freak if she knew—get all ragey and protective and you can’t control my son! But apparently . . .

“Unbelievable. You talk to her for one night and suddenly you’re Team Solana?”

She spins around to face me. “I’m Team Vane. All I want is to see you smile again. But every day I watch you look more tired and stressed—and I know a big part of that is because she left. And I hate that. I hate seeing her hurt you.”

“She isn’t.”

We both know it’s a lie. But she goes back to making waffles.

A few minutes later Solana enters the room with dripping wet hair and the world’s skimpiest white dress. I think a tube sock might have covered her more—and I grin when I see my mom’s jaw drop.

How you liking Team Solana now?

Solana tugs at the thin fabric, pulling it a fraction of an inch down her suntanned thigh. “It’s because of my gift.”

“What?” my mom and I both ask at the same time.

Solana gestures to her skimpy dress, and I have to force my eyes to not linger.

Again, why does she have to be hot?

“My body can store the wind if I let it. Sort of like a cache. And the Gales think it will help in the next battle, giving them an arsenal the Stormers can’t destroy, so I’m trying to gather as much as I can. Which means I need to have as much of my skin exposed as possible.”

I’m not sure what freaks my mom out more. The idea that wind is swirling around under Solana’s skin or talk of another battle.

Whatever it is, all she does is clear her throat and say, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Solana mumbles, tucking her hair behind her ear and glancing at me.

I look away.

My mom pulls the first sugarwaffle out of the iron and puts it on a plate. “So how do you like your waffles, Solana?”

“Oh, um.” Solana stares at her feet. “I can’t eat anything either.”

My mom’s smile fades and it’s hard not to smirk at her.

Strike two for Solana.

“I’ll take everything on mine,” I tell my mom, sitting down at the table.

Solana fidgets for a second before she takes a seat across from me, and my mom says nothing as she hands me a plate heaped with so many berries and so much whipped cream I can barely see the waffle—exactly how I like it.

“I thought the not-eating thing was only for guardians?” I ask Solana before taking an enormous bite. It’s even better than I remember. Sweet and crunchy, but somehow melty like butter, too.

Solana stares hungrily at my waffle. “It is. But anything I eat takes up space that could hold more energy. And right now the Gales need all the extra wind we can get.”

“I guess,” I say, wondering what it feels like for her to have the wind constantly swirling inside her. “But couldn’t you—”

Frantic pounding on the door interrupts my question, and I run to answer it, with my mom hot on my heels.

Gus stands there, wide-eyed and out of breath. His hair is halfway unraveled from his braid and his uniform is soaked with sweat.

“You have to come with me,” he says, dragging Solana and me outside. “We’re under attack.”