"Press, where are you--no! Press!" Harley calls, but she knows she's lost me.

My pulse thumps in my neck. Even though I just drank that water, my mouth is as dry as a summer in Phoenix.

Mateo sees me coming. His eyes go wide, glancing around, but the bar's too crowded for a clean getaway. He's trapped. Good. I close the gap and now we're face to face.

Just like that, I forget how to breathe. I can see every freckle on his nose. The scar from a rogue baseball right above his right eyebrow. His warm brown eyes, though creased with worry, still have that twinkle I love.

"Hi," I say.

He sighs. "Hi."

Music still bumps behind us, but out here it's softer. The patio's cooler than inside. LA nights always sneak in like that. Hot one second, sweater weather the next. 

I lean in, close enough to smell the cedar on his skin. "Come talk to me."

He looks around and then says in a measured voice, "I don't think that's such a good idea, Press."

"It won't take long. I just want to catch up. See how you've been." My eyes search his face, pleading with him.

He bites his beautiful bottom lip, his eyes flickering to the table where everyone is very obviously watching us.

"Okay," he says finally. "But just a quick talk."

People are already pulling out their phones. I grab his wrist. "Let's go to the rooftop. Now. Before we end up on someone's blog."

I shoot Harley a quick thumbs-up as we head for the elevator, but she just frowns. The walk across the bar feels like it takes forever, like every eye inside the place is on us. I wish I could take his hand, lace my fingers with his. But I stuff my hands in my pockets to resist the urge.

Inside, the elevator is dim. Same techno track playing, just muffled, but I don't mind. I'm not here for the music anyway. We stand on opposite sides of the enclosed space like we're strangers. He tucks his hands behind him and leans away from me. A sting pierces my chest, but I ignore it.

"You look good," I say.

He ducks his head, trying not to smile. "Shut up."

"I'm just being honest. You know how much I appreciate beauty."

He rolls his eyes, but he can't hide his grin.

The elevator whirs.

"What are you trying to do right now, Press?" He asks suddenly.

I don't know. I really don't. I just needed to be near him. I don't have any affinities on me, so I'm not afraid that I'll blow him up, but I keep my shaking hands in my pockets anyway.

The doors open to a rooftop pool deck, lit with that weird glowy light that makes everything look more dramatic than it really is. The pool's shaped like a kidney and filled with glamour diamonds, magical illusions that keep the water sparkling.

I make my way to the pool and sit at the edge. Off go my shoes, and I stick my feet in the water. Mateo stares, then sits beside me and does the same. The water is warm and feels surprisingly nice.

It's not as private up here as I thought it'd be, though. A few people lounge nearby, taking in the LA skyline, sipping drinks and pretending not to stare. We're minor celebrities, so of course they're staring.

Mateo must sense my nerves because he raises both hands and mutters something under his breath. His fingers flick like he's painting the air. A soft shimmer forms around us, rising into a translucent wall that mutes everything outside. It's a privacy bubble, one of his mage specialties.

He glances at me. "Better?"

For a moment, we just sit there. The silence between us isn't comfortable exactly, but it's not hostile either. It's like we both have things we want to say but don't know where to start. 

He scratches his palm, which I know is a nervous habit of his. So we're both nervous. Interesting.

"Press," he says finally, voice soft. "That day at the party...do you really not remember what happened?" 

I shake my head. "It's all a blur. The people at Halcyon said it might come back eventually. Or it might not." 

His jaw tightens. "And they're sure it's just...trauma? Not something else?" 

"Like what?" 

"Like--" He stops himself, then shakes his head. "Never mind." But I catch the way his eyes flicker. He almost said something and swallowed it back down. 

"Like a curse?" I say, half-joking, but my chest tightens.

He looks out into the rippling water.

"Mateo, what aren't you telling me?" 

He exhales hard. "My mom doesn't want us talking to each other."

"I know."

"So why are we...talking?"

"Because we never really had closure. After the garden party. After...everything."

He watches me, and my breath gets stuck in my throat. It's too much. His eyes, the night air, the fact that we used to be something more than strangers.

"I just wanted to see if you're okay," I say quietly. I move my feet in the water. Move them closer to his.

"I'm not the one who was set on fire. You owe that rose bush an apology," he says with a hint of a smile. But as quickly as it comes, it goes. He pulls his feet away. "People got hurt, Press. Not seriously, but still."

"I know it wasn't a good look for me," I say with a sad shrug.  It looked like I was unstable. Like New Magic can't be trusted with affinities. They were all probably thinking I don't belong with them and their stuck-up garden parties. "I'm sorry."

Mateo doesn't look at me. "I guess I'm sorry too. Maybe I shouldn't have said what I said."

"When you said I wasn't good enough?" I don't mean to sound so sharp, but I can't hide my feelings at this point.

"Oh, so you remember that?"

"I wish I didn't, but I do." Him breaking up with me is the last thing I remember. 

"Well, that's not what I said."

"Then what did you say?"

"That we come from different worlds."

"Same thing. Don't gaslight me, Mateo."

"You go to therapy for one summer and now you throw therapy talk at me?" He blows air out of his nostrils.

"Why did you break up with me?" I shoot at him.

"I told you."

"Tell me again."

"Our lives are going in different directions—"

"Bullshit." I kick the water and splash him. He winces. "Tell me the truth. You don't love me? You regret those nights at the observatory? Looking at the stars? The Dodger games? You don't miss our secret spot at the beach, at the ruins, listening to the ocean? Making out? You don't miss any of it?"

He doesn't answer at first. Just stares at the sparkling water, not meeting my eyes like he's afraid I'll see the truth on his face.

"We had some fun times," he says in a soft voice finally.

"And we could have more," I say, scooting closer to him. "Dr. Santos doesn't have to know."

The second I mention his mom, he pulls his feet from the water like it's lava.

"Press, don't," he says. "Don't fuck around with her. You don't know what she's capable of."

"Don't be so melodramatic. She's intense, but she's not that bad."

"No. She's worse."

I laugh. "Mateo, come on."

He stands, towering over me now. "She's the most powerful Arcanist in California. That's not me exaggerating, either. She controls things you don't even know about." His voice drops, almost swallowed by the hum of the pool lights.

The way he says it makes me cold all over. "Mateo, you're scaring me." 

"Good. You should be scared." 

I consider the text I got earlier. The blackmail one. Could his mom be behind that?

As quickly as the thought comes, it leaves. Dr. Santos is a licensed professional. Something tells me she's above sending cryptic texts.

I stand up too so we're eye-level. "You don't get to use your mom as a shield. You walked away from me. You said I didn't belong. And now all of a sudden you're scared of her?"

"I'm not scared for me," he says, shaking his head. "I'm scared for you." 

"Then fight for me," I say, stepping in close. "Or at least admit you still want to." 

The muscles in his jaw jump. His eyes search mine, and for a second I see it--the crack in his walls. The boy who used to tell me I was the realest person he knew. 

"Press--" His voice breaks. He reaches up like he's going to touch my face, then drops his hand. "You don't understand. If I fight for you, she'll destroy you. And I can't--" He swallows hard. "I can't watch that happen." 

"So you'd rather just...let me go?" 

"I'd rather keep you safe." 

The words almost knock the wind out of me. He's not pushing me away because he doesn't love me. He's pushing me away because he does. Why can't he just say it?

He just leans over to put his socks and shoes back on. He clears the privacy bubble with a wave of his hands. He opens his mouth to say more, then snaps it shut. Instead he just says, "Be careful, Press."

And walks away, back toward the elevator, taking my heart with him.

My phone chirps.

And my mouth goes dry when I see who it's from. Unknown number. Again.

So...you're still hanging around?
Maybe you didn't hear me the first time.

No. Please. This isn't the time, Blackmailer. Not when my heart is already raw and jagged.

Maybe you should go back to your mom on the West Side. I hear she's got plenty of cheap wine and spare time. Like mother, like son, right?

So let me be clear. We don't want you in Caldera Heights. We don't want you at Vale. We don't want you around. Period. You have five days to make yourself invisible around here, or else this video goes right to the blogs...

I ignore the sting at the mention of my mom, the drunk, and use my shaking finger to scroll down.

There it is.

An attachment. A video I'm sure shows me at my very worst.

I take a deep breath and hit play.

It's me at the garden party. I'm yelling and cursing, though my words sound warbled. "Everyone is lying. You're all frauds!" I point at everyone and no one. The jazz quartet stops suddenly as every head turns in my direction.

I look like a crazy person, my eyes blood-shot, with spittle flying from my mouth. "I can't trust any of you!" I scream.

And just as I'm about to say something else, it's like a silent hand clamps my mouth shut and no more words can escape. With a face soaked with sweat and hands crackling with magic I can't control, I teeter and sway, bumping into tables. The rose bushes ignite and someone screams. A woman's wig catches fire, flies off her head and lands on her poodle. And then the video cuts to black.

The video ends. My hands are trembling so hard, I almost drop my phone into the pool. Someone filmed this. And they're watching me, willing to destroy me.

A cold fury flashes across my body. I have nothing else to lose.

I don't know who's behind trying to ruin my life, but I'm going to find out.