Page 5 of Anomalies

“But it’s not⁠—"

“Yes, Cin, it is that easy.” Ivy fluffs her auburn hair, unclicks my seatbelt for me, and tucks the crinkled vodka bottle under her arm. “You’re wearing rose-colored glasses,” she blurts, turning in her seat to face me. “Stop hoarding the shiny image you’ve painted of him; it doesn’t exist anymore.”

It always burns when Ivy rips off my band aids.

She pushes the door open, swinging her legs out of the jeep, then she sighs when I don’t move, can’t move. My eyes burn, the lump in my throat falling and making my chest heavy. Chiaros, I wish I could rip this feeling out of my chest and shove it down his throat instead.

Ivy sucks on her teeth, my silence enough to confirm that I’m indeed…spiraling.

Down.

Down—

“Why don’t you picture what he looked like hanging off some other girl?” Ivy quips, catching me before I fall to where all my bad decisions take root.

I slowly roll my head to face her. “That really helps, thanks.”

“I’m serious.” She plants both hands on her hips. “Get rid of the way you used to see him and picture him all tangled up with someone who isn’t you. Remember how that felt?”

Like my world crumbling around me.

“Picture him,” Ivy spreads her arms wide, “laid back in that booth, not a care in the world⁠—"

“Stop that,” I beg, my teeth grinding so hard I fear they’ll crack.

But Ivy continues, “Picture his arm slung over shoulders that weren’t yours.”

That mushy feeling in my chest hardens like stone, and the corner of Ivy’s mouth kicks up, triumphant.

I can’t help but picture it, the version of Topher that I saw at the Diner that day. A laid-back, calm, and slightly stoned Topher, who was dumb enough to think he could cheat in a small town and lacked the brain cells to hide it.

I clench my fists until my knuckles turn white, push open the door, hop out of the jeep on perfectly stable legs, and slam the rusted thing shut behind me.

“There she is,” Ivy grins, following me into the Cove.

The sound of voices and music fills the air as we crest the dune. The Cove is a tucked-away corner of white sand, a wooden structure in the back with paddleboards, kayaks, and other random floats. Some people have already taken to the water, legs dangling off the sides of their boards as they swim out past the cliffside to get an unobstructed view of the sky. A bonfire blazes in the middle of the sand with worn, mismatched chairs set out around it.

Ivy and I melt into the thick mass of partygoers, cigarette smoke punching me in the face instantly. She snags us some cups, scooping them through the beer ice and mixing our vodka with lukewarm lemonade. We push our way through the crowd, snagging two empty chairs just outside all the revelry. Ivy leans back, kicking a foot over her knee, and I scan the dark water before us.

Waves move at the whim of the moon, kissing the shore before sinking back to the deep. I search for the horizon line, it’s growing harder to see by the second now that the sky has been painted black, stars blooming across the dark canvas like tiny silver flowers.

If I squint, I can see the Barrier—the shimmering, iridescent reminder of everything I can’t see beyond it. Like the Savage Sea with its ruthless waves, the barren plains of Griseo, and the once vibrant city in the north that belonged to the people Nana would tell us stories about. Sol. Witches. Anomalies—our textbooks called them. Freaks of nature, defying all laws of it.

Their extinguished city isn’t what people fear; it’s whatever had the power to snuff it.

I spot Topher peeling his shirt off and barreling into the water like a little fucking kid. His dirty blonde hair is a mess, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, and by the unsteady way he’s wading through the water, I can tell he’s drunk. Seeing him so carefree pisses me off. I sort of hope he drowns.

“Stop that.” Ivy clocks my stare, effectively breaking it with the towel she tosses at my head. “Chiaros, you’re like a cat.”

“That was a hate stare,” I assure her.

“Well, I sure hope so because if—” Ivy’s voice trails off, her gaze cutting up to my brother as he sets a chair right next to hers, so close that the armrests overlap. Her mood shifts instantly, her shoulders tense and spine straight. “Can I help you?”

Jude’s tall, lanky self sinks into his seat, and then he flashes Ivy a big, goofy smile.

“There are a lot of ways you can help me, Ivanna.”

Gross.