Free Breathless: A Firelight Novella (HarperTeen Impulse) by Sophie Jordan Page A

eyes, making my blue irises stand out almost eerily.
    “Az, are you sure?” Mom asks when she sees my face.
    I wave a hand. “Yeah. It’s easier if we just go.”
    My parents exchange a look, then Dad picks up my bag and heads to the car. I follow him outside, watching as he hefts it into the trunk.
    “Gotta say I’ll be glad to be sleeping in my own bed again,” he announces, and I realize that he’s really just suffered through this all for me. So that I could have this experience.
    And I’m running away from it. A bitter taste floods my mouth. I feel like an awful daughter. An awful draki … I risked much last night, nearly manifesting in front of a human.
    Mom wraps an arm around me. “You okay?”
    “I—” I want to speak but no words emerge.
    “Az?”
    I stare out at the lake. At the smooth, glasslike water. What am I going to do on tour? Hide? Never speak to a single human the entire year or longer that I live among them? How far does my cowardice run?
    Suddenly a Jeep rolls down the gravel driveway.
    Mom’s voice is a breath near my ear. “Is that …”
    I nod, my gaze fastened to the windshield. The early morning sun casts a glare on the glass, making it impossible to see his face. But I know it’s him. I feel his stare on me. My skin heats and tingles with familiar awareness.
    The vehicle rolls to a stop. The door flings open and he’s stepping out.
    His hair looks wet and crisp from a shower. He buries one hand in a jean pocket as he advances. In his other hand, he holds a small box.
    Presumably for me. A present? Warmth spreads through my chest. The gesture is so charmingly sweet. The kind of thing you’d see on TV. I never thought a boy would come to my door bearing gifts.
    “Hello, sir. Ma’am.” He steps forward and shakes hands with both my parents. “I’m Tate Parkson.”
    “Tate.” They greet him, introducing themselves in turn. Like it’s something they do all the time. “I’m Sobha.” Mom motions to Dad. “And this is Roan.”
    “Nice to meet you.” A friendly smile curves Tate’s mouth, but it quickly flees when his eyes land on the open trunk with the luggage already piled inside.
    “You’re leaving?” His gaze fastens on me and it’s like my parents aren’t even there. It’s just us.
    Like last night, he stares at me, demands everything of me with a mere look. Only it’s a look that feels like a physical touch, the heavy pull of a current washing over me.
    My mouth suddenly dries. “Yes.”
    “I thought you would be here a few more weeks.”
    “Change of plans.”
    He shakes his head. “Why?” he demands, indifferent to our audience.
    My parents look at me. I shift on my feet.
    I can’t speak. Mom and Dad move off into the house, giving us privacy.
    “Az.” He says my name softly. His deep voice slides through me.
    “Where can this go, Tate?”
    “I don’t know. But wouldn’t you like to find out?”
    I shake my head, suddenly feeling like I’m caught up in a vortex, lost and directionless in blinding, dark waters, unsure which way is up and which way is down.
    With a sigh, he drags a hand through his hair. He turns for the Jeep, then stops and walks back to me. “This is for you.” He thrusts the box into my hand before turning and climbing back into his car.
    I stare down at it for several moments.
    My mother’s hand falls on my shoulder. “That’s him, huh. Tate.” A statement. Not a question.
    I nod.
    “He seems quite … taken with you.”
    “Yes. I think so.” I look up from the box. “He was.” Was . That word cuts me deep.
    Dad’s sigh draws my attention. “Are you sure about this?”
    “Yes. Why do you both keep asking me that?”
    He looks at Mom for a long moment before turning back at me. “Because you look miserable. We can stay another day … give you time to consider this.”
    I stare at them, still so shocked that my normally protective parents would give me such autonomy. But then I remember their explanation. They