** TW: This book is a dark, potentially disturbing story that deals with triggering topics such as mental illness, drug use, SH, and death. Avoid this book if any of these topics are triggering to you. Thank you. -Max **
____________
Israel Gallego...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
•
"What does it mean?" I ask, looking down at the tarot spread out on the bar.
"The Knight of Cups," her hand drifts over the cards, "Nine of Swords. Oh. The Queen of Wands in reverse."
I branch away for a minute to get a drink for Israel and myself when Millicent pulls my attention to her deck of tarot. I'm not incredibly superstitious. I can't say I buy into the world of tarot and shadow work, but a free reading is a free reading. God knows I need some guidance. Any guidance. From anywhere.
"Is it bad?" I ask. While I scan the cards, I take a sip from my glass. "They look bad."
"Depends on how you proceed," Millicent says. Her pursed lips relax. "I'm hearing. These are three different people. People close to you."
My eyes flick to my group of ragtag rascals all bunched together in a dark booth across the dancefloor. Night, Nova, Nomed, Hugo.
Israel. He's smiling down at his phone and even though I've heard that he's been waiting on a response from his sister, I can't fight this twinge of something in my gut. It aches like a bruise. I suddenly feel the urge to throw up all over the bar and I don't even have very much alcohol in my system.
The last time I remember feeling this was in high school. Watching Night's dad tell him that he was disappointed in his grade in science class. Watching Night walk back towards Hugo and me sitting in the living room without any belt marks on his back. Watching Night "get in trouble" that way a kid with a sane dad gets in trouble.
I was so jealous of the peace that was kept in that house. Of how Night never had to sleep facing his bedroom door. Of how Night had a bedroom door.
"The Knight of Cups is someone of interest. Maybe someone who holds interest towards you." She puts the card in my hand and I feel my head flutter with images of softly placed kisses, warm hands underneath cool sheets. I put the card back on the bar before the feelings spread to the rest of my body. "You know who this is, I'm sure of that."
I can only nod out of fear that she'll guess it's a man out loud. Someone in this club could hear. Someone in this club could recognize me. The whole world would know after that.
"Very good. Moving on, Nine of Swords. Poor soul, they're very lost. Anxiety and dread are their every meal and sunrise." She puts the card in my hand and my shoulders slump forward. There's nothing in this world worth the pain of waking up except, maybe, something very specific. I can't see what it is, but I'm sure that if I get too close to it I'll only ruin my life more.
There's a sensation around my neck, something like rope or electrical cord. I drop the card like hot glass, wincing at the sting around my throat.
"They've found hope," she says. A sigh escapes her mouth before she glares up into my eyes. "Let's both hope they can keep it."
