Authors: Amity Hope
Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Mysteries & Thrillers, #Romantic, #Romance, #Contemporary
But he didn’t even try.
Most of our magic was elemental. Sometimes we had an affinity for one element over the other, but not always. My element was water but I could still manipulate the other elements to some extent.
As for Tristan, if he had an affinity at all, I didn’t know about it. He sucked equally at trying to manipulate air, earth, fire,
and
water. It was a pity because he excelled at everything else.
“Must you?” he grumped at me as the page settled into place. He didn’t lift his head but I could tell he was watching from under lowered lashes.
“Yes, I must,” I grumped back. I shot another bit of magic through the air, manipulating the air flow enough to open up my text book. This time I pushed out a bit more of my aura, enhancing the blue glow. It was all for show. I didn’t really need to let my aura through at all.
Tristan gritted his teeth.
I didn’t bother to smirk back.
“You can be so childish,” he said sourly.
Perhaps he was right. Like riding a bike or driving a car, usually the novelty of magic use wore off. That’s why even though we could use magic for just about everything, we often times didn’t bother.
Usually I enjoyed teasing him but for some reason, I didn’t tonight. Tonight, his reaction caused a heavy weight to settle deep inside of my heart. Not that long ago, I still held out the hope that Tristan would come around. That hope was fading. He’d taken his stand against magic and apparently he was going to stick to it.
The short conversation we’d just had embodied the very reason that Tristan and I would never be more than friends. Friendships were hard enough. Relationships were harder, or so I’d heard. Our differing opinion had started to cause problems in our friendship. I had a feeling it would be disastrous to a relationship.
A heavy weight settled into the pit of my stomach. It was a weight I was familiar with. It was the weight of my disappointment and despair.
Or as Daphne would be quick to point out, it was the ache of knowing my love was now, and would forever be, unreciprocated.