The Legend of the Eight: The Wicked (Book 2)

4: Somewhere Only We Know

FOUR: SOMEWHERE ONLY WE KNOW
MARCH 15
PHOEBE DOMINGO

IT WAS SOMETIME AFTER TEN and Phoebe was sitting at her desk, attempting to memorize thirty-five vocabulary terms for an upcoming Premonitions test. In the bed behind her, Wil was snoring and sleeping off the day-drunk with her face in the pillow and shoes still on her feet.

Phoebe had seen that behavior many times before—from her own mother, Lyla. As long as Phoebe could remember, her mother was an addict, using alcohol and drugs to fill the void left behind by Phoebe's absentee father. Last summer, Phoebe came home to find her mom passed out from her latest bender only that time, she didn't wake up.

On a corner of her desk, Phoebe's phone lit up with an incoming call from Drew Briggs. She considered taking the call in the hall as to not wake her roommate but there was nothing short of an earthquake that could wake her up. So she slid her thumb across the screen and answered the call.

"Did I wake you up?" Drew asked in a breathy whisper.

Phoebe leaned back in her chair and chewed on the end of her pen. "No. I'm studying. Why?"

"Meet me by the sixth-floor lounge," he said quickly and despite his urgent tone, he sounded like he was smiling. "Bring a blanket." 

PHOEBE DID AS DREW SAID and met him just outside of the lounge on the sixth floor of the North Hall. He was wearing his favorite Academy sweats—the ones he got years ago with the sleeves that were just long enough—and slippers which were so worn, they were practically socks. Upon seeing him there, Phoebe tossed the blanket over and then folded her arms across her chest.

"Any particular reason why you called me out here? It's late." She pushed her hair behind her ear, revealing that single purple highlight. Usually, she forgot it was even there. She was born with it and no amount of hair dye could conceal it.

"I know, but I was thinking about that night in your loft when we were eating pizza on the balcony, remember?" he asked and his olive eyes sparkled.

She nodded. While others spent their Spring Break soaking up the sun on a beach or relaxing at home, Phoebe was unpacking and moving into her new loft. Each morning, Drew came over with coffees and bagels and stayed to help—doing most of the heavy lifting for her.

Spending so much time with Drew allowed her to see a different side of him. He wasn't just the arrogant, meat-headed jock that he paraded around as. He was funny, thoughtful—dare she say sensitive. He was different than she expected and if she wasn't careful, she might just fall for him.

"Well, I was wandering around and got thinking. I wish there was some place like that here."

Phoebe made a face. "A balcony? Drew, the Academy used to be a palace. There are dozens of balconies around here."

He chuckled and then waved her forward to the window behind him. "Not a balcony. An escape. Somewhere to disappear to when everything else becomes too much."

Then he opened the window and climbed out. At first, Phoebe lunged forward to stop him but stopped when she realized he wasn't falling to his death. There was a roof which he'd climbed out onto and then poked his head back inside to smile at her.

"Well come on then. What are you waiting for?"

Smiling, Phoebe followed him out and sat behind him. A springtime breeze blew past them and she stared up at the navy sky which was sprinkled with tiny white stars. She'd been so wrapped up in all the Eight drama that she was missing so many beautiful things around her.