The Matchmakers

TWENTY FOUR

FOXFIRE WAS DECORATED just like the opening ceremonies as Sophie glittered onto school grounds: the entire campus seemed to glow with an ethereal air in the fast fading light of the day. The warm air caressed Sophie's skin as she walked up the familiar path. Finals were over; they'd all passed and earned entrance to the Gold Tower.

And Fitz and Keefe were graduating.

Graduating.

Like going out into the real world graduating. Fitz started training for his new position as an Emissary in just over a week, and Keefe had somehow managed to sweet talk his way into a job at the Sanctuary with only a week left in the school year.

The job wasn't going to be glamorous-most newbies ended up scooping poop for the first year or two-but Sophie was still extremely proud of her friend. And she was happy for him. She'd never seen him as excited as when he'd showed up at Havenfield to tell her he'd gotten a job. He'd lifted her up in the air and spun her around in a circle and she'd laughed and laughed and told him congratulations. And then she'd ignored the friction between them as he set her down; the way he stood too close and stared too long and tried to kiss her like something had changed.

But nothing had.

She'd chosen Fitz.

And they both had to accept that.

"Well," he'd said into the interminable void that gobbled up any possibility of a normal conversation between them, "I just wanted to tell you about my job."

Sophie had forced a smile across her lips, even though all she wanted to do was cry because somehow, as Keefe had been finding his way, she'd lost hers. "Congratulations, Keefe," she'd bit out. "I'm very proud of you."

Proud.

Keefe had perked up at that word, and Sophie had seen the hope light up his eyes. Pride implied a sense of friendship, a sense of ownership, as if she had a claim to him. Which she didn't, it had simply been an unfortunate choice of words. She wasn't going to change her mind. She'd chosen Fitz, and she wasn't going to be swayed by a disarming smile or a brazen peck on the cheek.

"You're proud of me, huh?" Keefe had teased, but Sophie hadn't smiled back.

That lack of a smile haunted her.

She hadn't talked to Fitz over the past month much either. She'd gone over to his house every weekend for family dinners, eaten lunch with him every day in the Silver Tower, and even studied with him some days after class ended. But no matter how hard she tried to fix things between them, their relationship still seemed strained. They didn't talk unless they had to, and even then Fitz hoarded his words like any moment he might exhaust his quota.

Hopefully everything would clear up after graduation. Fitz would have his job, Sophie would be in the Gold Towers, and they'd go on just like they had before...before everything had gotten so strained between them.

Hopefully.

But as Sophie walked into the garden, whispers swarmed like angry bees and predatory eyes stalked her every step of the way down the silver carpet. She would be seated near the front with the rest of the Vackers, where the Council could show off the golden family. "Look everyone!" the placement seemed to scream. "Look how perfect the Vackers are! Look how perfect their children are! Look how perfect their matches are! Aren't you happy they're Emissaries? Aren't you happy their son is graduating!"

At least it seemed to scream that to her.

Alden and Della were already seated as she made her way to the first row, and the whispers only grew with each swish of her long, sparkly dress until it felt like there were waves crashing inside her skull trying to get IN! IN! IN! It felt like they could see into her mind, into her very heart. They knew she didn't love Fitz anymore. They knew she was a liar and a terrible fiancé and an even worse friend.