Chapter Text
Amity Blight is the prettiest girl in all of the Boiling Isles and I will stand by that for the rest of my life.
She’s literally absolutely perfect. She’s got stunning golden eyes and the silkiest-looking mint hair- and yeah, I know her slightly unhinged mother makes her color it that way, but who cares, it looks nice, and she should be grateful for the compliment. Hmph. Anyway, she’s also fantastic at grudgby- she almost pulled off a Thorn Vault one time. Like, seriously? That’s metal. Nobody has that courage. Not even me. She makes me look like a Junior League player next to her, which I only hate a little bit. I would hate it more, but as soon as I start thinking about how much I hate it I get distracted by thoughts of how cute she looks in the Banshees uniform. Then I embarrass myself over the fact that I think that fashion crime of a uniform looks good on anyone . But come on, it’s Amity, the smartest and most beautiful and most talented witch at Hexside. She’s independent and self-sufficient and never hesitates to speak her mind- even if she’s speaking against me. Point is, Amity is the most wonderful person in the entire world and I don’t know what I’d do if she wasn’t a part of my life.
She’s also the stupidest.
I mean, come on. A human? Really?
Luz the human has got to be the dumbest choice for a crush in the whole world. Amity’s the top student, too- she’s supposed to be smart. It’s literally her job. I just don’t get it! Of all the gorgeous, talented witches she knows (me) she had to go with that loser to moon after? Ugh. I miss the old Amity. I miss the Amity that would snicker and call out quiet insults whenever the human and the half-witch would walk into the spelling classroom together. I miss the Amity that gave her undivided attention. Her loyalty. Not the… the softie who’s been wandering the hallways glazey-eyed for the past week, her thoughts miles away from the conversation I’m trying to hold with her. I don’t get it. She should be thankful for my friendship. I’m helping her uphold the status that comes with her family name. But no, she just ignores me, and spends every minute pining after that stupid human who waltzed into Hexside a month ago like she owned the place.
I want that Amity back.
~
When I spot a flash of mint-green out of my peripherals in first-period history, I put down the pen I’d been fidgeting with and absentmindedly tap the spot next to me, inviting Amity to take a seat. I don’t need to ask her to sit with me- she always does. I just like reminding her what’s expected of her. (Also, I like being able to look at her. Have I mentioned that she’s super pretty?)
“So?” I singsong as she sets her books down on the table. She’s acting different this morning, more withdrawn. Her shoulders are hunched and it almost looks like she’s trying to shrink in on herself and disappear. It’s quite unbefitting, really. A smirk tugs at my mouth as I realize I know exactly what’s got her all worked up. “How’re you handling the announcement?”
“Just fine,” Amity replies in a way that suggests she is not handling the announcement just fine.
“Are you nervous?”
“Of course not.” Her voice tremors.
I reach out and brush her shoulder, whisking my hand away before she can even process the touch. “I bet you’ll make an amazing Grom Queen.”
She flashes me a confused look out of the corner of her eye and hunches over further. Drawing a hand out of her pocket, she sets a piece of pink folded up paper on the table next to her books. The way she holds it so delicately suggests that it’s very important to her. Could it be…? “What’s that?”
Eyes flashing with alarm, Amity shields the paper from me with her arm. “Nothing.”
“Is that a note? Are you gonna ask someone to Grom?”
Her posture straightens, and her voice shoots up an octave. Now I know for sure she’s lying. Her tell is very obvious. “No!” she squeaks.
“Lemme see it.” I make a grab for the note, but she swipes it before I can reach it. “C’mon,” I plead. “Don’t friends show friends things?”
“It’s private.”
“Can’t be too private for me.”
“It has nothing to do with you.” She looks like she wants to crumple the note up in her hand in frustration, but she clearly thinks better of herself. Her grip eases and she tucks it into her folder.
“What?” I laugh, but to be honest, that stung. A little bit. Not that much, of course, it’s just Amity, after all. “Are you saying you wouldn’t ask me to Grom?”
“This isn’t for you,” she repeats firmly.
She didn’t say no, but my heart sinks anyway.
~
I catch up with Bo, Cat, and Skara after class since Amity is walking really slowly and staring at the ground and just being really broody in general, and I have to tell myself that I don’t want to wait around for her while she angsts about whatever she’s angsting about. “Hey, girlies!” I call once they’re all in earshot.
Skara’s the first to spin around. “Boscha!” she yells. “You will never guess what happened to me before class!”
“Her boyfriend asked her to Grom,” Bo says dryly.
Skara punches Bo gently on the arm. “I was gonna say that.”
My eyes widen and I look back at Skara. “No way. He did? About time.”
“I know,” gushes Skara. She flashes Bo a glare sharper than daggers. “Too bad I didn’t get to break the news myself.”
“Get over it,” Bo retorts.
“I’m so happy for you.” I toss my arm around Skara’s shoulders and pull out my scroll. “Skara-finally-got-asked-out selfie!” I cheer, plastering on my best fake smile. Skara’s looks a lot more genuine in the final photo. I hope my Penstagram followers won’t notice how strained I look. I guess I could always edit it, but then they might not be able to tell how flawlessly I did my lipstick this morning…
Would Amity be able to tell?
I shake the thought from my mind. Who cares what Amity thinks? Besides, she’d never look that closely at my pictures. She even stopped liking them after the Conjuring…
But that hardly matters, I remind myself. In fact, it doesn’t matter at all.
“Have you gotten asked out yet, Boscha?” Cat prompts, drawing me out of my thoughts.
No, not by anyone who matters. “Not yet,” I say cheerfully. “But there’s still plenty of time! I am the prettiest girl at Hexside, after all. Who can resist a looker?” I point at the eye on my forehead as a punchline to my lame joke, and my friends giggle obediently.
Okay, maybe it isn’t entirely true I haven’t been asked by anyone- I’ve been fending off strangers in my DMs for days now. But if the losers at this school are too chicken to ask me out in real life, I’m not going to say yes to them at all.
They’re not Amity. I’m not interested.
I freeze. Where did that thought even come from?
It’s one thing to be sad that Amity’s interested in the human. I’m sad for her for having such bad taste. It’s a different thing entirely to be sad that she’s not interested in me specifically .
Her bad vibes must have leaked over onto me during history and are muddling my thoughts. Yeah, that must be it. We’re good friends and sometimes our energies combine. Easy to chalk it up to our unbeatable bond. The magic of friendship is a wonderful thing, right? Right?
“Well, if we don’t all get a date, we can still go as a group,” Cat says. “I haven't been asked yet.”
I roll my eyes. “You will be, I’m sure.” After all, I’m the only person in this whole friend group who isn’t dating anyone. I could date someone if I wanted to- there are plenty of classmates vying for my attention all the time, and I don’t blame them. But all the people interested in me are way underneath my standards. Besides, most of them are guys… and I’m not into guys all that much. And by not much I mean not at all.
As I make my way to my next class (math, lucky me) we pass by a specific set of lockers that I’ve been avoiding looking at for the past few days. I’m not a big fan of the graphic displays of stupidity that go on over here, so I’ve made it a habit to avert my eyes when we get near. Today, though- probably thanks to Amity messing up my energy in history- I look up anyway, and I am completely undelighted by what I see.
She’s leaning up against the side of her locker. Books are lolling out on the locker’s tongue, but she’s making no effort to grab them even though the passing period is supposed to end in about two minutes. Her arms are crossed over her chest, she’s got the pink note in one hand, and her eyes are screwed shut, her mouth open wide in a laugh, showing her fangs. She looks far more relaxed than she did just a few minutes ago. She’s practically bathed in light, and a pale dusting of pink falls over her cheeks and crawls up her adorable ears as she-
I stop in my tracks.
WHERE was my mind coming UP with these things?
Especially since Luz the human is standing right there, grinning at Amity like she just told Amity the funniest joke in the world and is incredibly proud of herself. She says something else, leaning a tad closer to Amity as she does so. Amity’s blush grows deeper and she sheepishly tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. I prick my ears to try and make out what they’re saying, but I catch only a snippet of it.
“...whatever this Grom Queen business is, I know you’ll do a great job at it! You are a queen!” she’s assuring Amity enthusiastically.
Then a shy smile spreads across the human’s features. Her hand darts out and touches Amity’s, and their fingers intertwine for a brief second.
Skara stops beside me. “Boscha? What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I say coldly. But it’s far from nothing. I can feel my face beginning to grow warm with fury. Why is the human comforting Amity about being Grom Queen? She doesn’t even know what being Grom Queen entails! That should be me over there with my hand in Amity’s, telling her that everything is gonna be okay because she’s awesome and that stupid fear demon doesn’t stand a chance against a girl like her.
“You’re not getting yourself all worked up about that human again, are you?”
“Obviously not. That human isn’t worth a second thought.”
Skara touches my arm, but immediately flinches away. “Ow! Bosch, your blood is literally boiling. Do you need to go see the healers?”
“No!” I pull away. “Mind your own business.” I hate snapping at Skara- the poor girl is the sweetest thing, and is way nicer than any of my other friends- but the fire that’s slowly growing inside my stomach is too much to keep down. I can’t stand here watching Amity and the human… flirting anymore. I turn around and stalk away without waiting for Skara to catch up to me.
“Wait!” she calls after me. “Boscha-”
I pay her no mind. I keep my eyes on the back of the person in front of me, wait for my feet to carry me to my next class.
Then, after a moment, I realize- Amity had still been holding that note. She hadn’t given it to Luz after all.
Maybe there is still hope.