Chapter 12

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{Isaac}

It's strange the way somethings never change: Sage's eyes challenge me, her eyebrows raise in amusement, and she's always on her toes when dancing.

I hate the way we just sink back into our old routine. It's dangerous. I don't want a repeat of World War Sage. She let me have it when we last spoke on good terms.

The poor, unsuspecting president of Model UN and drama club leader never saw it coming. I, for the record, didn't either. She surprised me, okay. How was I supposed to know she could have died? I want to say it hurt me to do that to her, but it didn't. I didn't feel anything. She just pushed me to my limit. Do I have regrets? I don't know.

Does that make me a terrible person? Possibly but my line of work doesn't seem to care. They just want a mission report typed up for their convenience.
Sage and I are lucky the others left the room. Something about this dance just seems too personal.

I toss Sage into the air, slowly sliding her back to the ground. Her chest is pressed against mine for a second or two.

I can't do this. We can't do this. I don't want to do this. We continue nonetheless.

Sage holds herself back for a few riskier moves. The strain shows in her hands. They clamp shut whenever they get the chance. 

The dance ends, and I'm stuck with her in my arms. I'm suddenly lost in her perfume. Vanilla, hints of cocoa, something just smells sensual about it. I allow myself to lean a tiny bit closer to smell it again. It's somehow intoxicating. As I lean in, my eyes catch on her lips. Oh no. I'm caught on her light berry lips that look softer than they should. That should be illegal right now. I should not be having these thoughts.

What would it be like to kiss her? She's already wrapped in my arms. Our bodies are closer than they've been in forever. We're alone. She looks perfect, even in her sweats and cut-off t-shirt. There's a tiny piece of joy in her eyes she's trying to conceal. She still loves to dance. I breathe a sigh of relief. I still know her and I still get her. She's not completely gone.

I almost believe there's a second where she glances at my lips. But she wouldn't. Not Sage Winters. Not the girl who promised she'd see me in hell and promised to never trust me again.

I don't want to even think about that right now. My hesitation almost makes me drop her.

I'll just blame it on the applause and whistles coming from the hallway to the kitchen.

Everyone always appears when they aren't wanted.

I need to have a conversation with Sage. We both know what happens when we spend time together. It's mostly attempted homicide. We almost rekindled our friendship sophomore year, but that ended in disaster. I had a black eye for two weeks.

Sage announces her plans to never dance with me again, not using those words but implying them the same.

My and Sage's names never come up again. Brandon or Morgan was keeping it that way I'm sure. They are more perceptive than the other two.

By the end of the movie, Clara is asleep and Garrick is barely keeping his eyes open.

"You guys can just stay the night if you want. It's late. There should be some spare clothes in each room," Sage offers. She looks more at Brandon and Garrick when she says that than me.

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