Breaking Magic

Chapter 19: Adam

I shower after Felix gets out, and by the time I come out of the steaming bathroom, he's laying on his bed with his back to me, seemingly already asleep.

I glance at the analog clock on the wall, as see it's only ten at night. I'm wiped out from the long plane ride though, since I could hardly get comfortable enough in those seats to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time.

I turn off the room's light and fall onto the other bed, not caring that my wet hair was soaking the pillow. I feel pretty drained, magically speaking, and I'm not overheating to the point where I feel like I need to open the room's window. I'm grateful for that, because I'm pretty sure there would be another fight if I tried to open the window at night in the middle of November. As I stare at the ceiling and wait for sleep to settle my racing thoughts, I still can't figure out why Felix is doing all of this for me.

I never liked him, and I'd always assumed that he'd never liked me. According to him though, that wasn't true—though I'm still struggling to figure out the difference between "I think you're a menace to society" and "I don't like you".

Now that I've actually spent some time with him, I don't think he's quick as much of a dick as I had originally assumed.

He's still arrogant, and a know-it-all, and apparently "insultingly condescending" is his default state of conversation; but he's not the mini-Council wannabe I'd thought he was. I roll over onto my side, so I can see the outline of his back in the darkness.

I hope—I really, really hope—that his plan stands a chance of working.

Felix wakes me up at seven in the morning by hurling a pillow at my head.

"Up and at 'em," he says. "There's no time to waste."

I groan groggily and roll over, right out of the narrow twin hotel bed and onto the floor.

Felix snorts with laughter as I scramble to my feet. Then he takes a good look at me and his expression suddenly becomes a lot more serious.

"Put a shirt on," he says.

I glance down, and remember I'm only wearing pajama bottoms. I hadn't bothered to find a top before falling asleep last night. I quickly grab a shirt at random from my duffel bag at the foot of the bed and throw it on, feeling a little embarrassed. I'm so damn skinny, I've always hated people seeing me partially dressed. P.E. locker rooms were an absolute nightmare.

Felix, I notice, is already dressed, and of course he looks like he stepped out of a J. Crew magazine. Does he even own any regular clothes, or is it all tight fitting, dark jeans and argyle sweaters?

"Do we really have to get up this early?" I ask, trying to take off my pajama bottoms and pull on my jeans at the speed of light, to minimize the amount of time it's possible to see me in my boxers.

Felix wanders casually over to the window in the intervening pantsless period, pretending to look intently at something interesting out of it. "Yes, we do," he says. "We have to get going as soon as possible. Who knows how much time we have left now that the MRF are actively looking for you, and Ms. Cross—and probably the Council too—know you're gone? It's straight to Paimpont Abbey from here."

I finishing buckling my belt and sit on the edge of the bed to pull on my socks and shoes. "Yeah, but we're going to have breakfast first, right?"

"Is food all you ever think about?" Felix snaps, turning back around to face me.

"How are you not thinking about food?" I mutter. "Most normal people do this thing called breakfast first thing in the morning, maybe you've heard of it."