It's the beginning of June, about a month after El's birthday, and the night of the fight with Felix.

It's not the only fight we’ve had, and it's not even the most recent one; but in my head, I can't help thinking about it as “the fight”. Because since it, every moment we've spent together and every conversation we've had has been colored by it. By me.

It's the beginning of June, and I still don't have a plan. I'll be spending another year—a fourth year—at community college. Felix will be a senior at Hecate U, and he'll be applying to a graduate program at a magician's law school.

It's the beginning of June, and my buffer period of time when it's acceptable for me to still be “figuring things out”, as Felix's parents always tell people at their dinner parties, is running out fast.

                                                                   * * *

I'm pacing up and down the living room when Felix comes home from class at three in the afternoon.

“Adam, what's up?” he asks, setting his book bag down and frowning at me. It's the most active he's seen me in weeks.

“Felix—good, you're home. We've got, what, two weeks left before the semester's over?” I ask him, stopping in my tracks.

“Uh... yeah. Why, what's up?” he says again, clearly concerned about what I might say next.

“Okay, I've come to a decision. I know what I need to do next.”

Felix’s expression breaks out into a smile. “Really? That's great! I know it's been driving you crazy these last couple of months, and you haven't even let me talk to you about it—what is it? What's your plan?”

I take a deep breath. “I'm going to find out who my mom was.”

The smile slides right off his face. “That's your plan?”

I bristle. “Yes. This summer, before fall semester. I've got two and a half months off of school and I talked to my manager at the radio station already, he's willing to be flexible with my hours. I'm going to spend the summer trying to figure out who exactly my mother was, why she left the magical community in the first place, and if I have any other family somewhere out there.”

“That's... that's great, Adam,” Felix says, but he's still frowning at me. “But that isn't really a plan, is it? Not a long term one, at least. I thought you've been so upset because you didn't know what you wanted to do with your life.”

“How can I know what I want to do with my life if I don't even know who I am? Where I come from?” I reply, throwing my hands into the air in mounting frustration. “How can I have a future if I don't have a past?”

“Okay, I think you're getting a little hysterical—” he says, taking a step towards me.

I take one back and point a warning finger at him. “I am not hysterical.”

“Okay, okay,” Felix says quickly, stopping his advance. “I'm not trying to talk you out of anything, I'm just trying to understand your thought process here. It seems to me like you've come up with this plan to... well, I don't want to say avoid—but to give yourself something else to do other than worry about school or your future or whatever.”

Christ, he's talking to me like he's a hostage negotiator.

“This is important to me, Felix!”

“You've never mentioned wanting to go searching for the truth about your past before,” he points out with maddening calm.

“I always had too much other shit going on in my life to think about it!” I say, and halfway through the sentence, I realize I'm almost shouting. I struggle to lower my voice. “It matters to me now, and that's all that matters.”

Felix sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. It's getting long, and he didn't have time to shave this morning so his jaw is covered in stubble.

“All right. It's your life, you can do whatever you want. I just think that you should think about your motivations before you jump headfirst into this. You're feeling like a drowning sailor right now, and you think this might be a life raft. But if it's not; if you can't find anything out about your mother... will you be able to keep swimming?”

“Oh, don't use some fucking analogy on me,” I snap. “You have no idea what I'm feeling; don't try to pretend like you know me better than I know myself. I don't know why I even told you, I knew you'd be like this about it.”

“'Adam,” he protests, but I'm already storming away to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

I turn on the cold water in the sink and lean over the bowl, splashing my face a few times. I just stay like that for a minute, letting the water drip from my nose, chin, and brow. I avoid looking at my reflection in the mirror for as long as possible, but eventually, inevitably, my gaze is dragged upwards.

Jesus, I look awful. Worse than I used to back in high school. And it's not because my magic is eating me away from the inside out anymore. My skin is pale, there are bags under my eyes, and I haven't shaved in I-don't-even-know how many days. I've hardly moved from bed or the couch in months, except to go to work and school. Stress has killed my appetite, and I've finally reached that too-thin point that I haven't been since I was in foster care.

I open the medicine cabinet door in disgust, so the mirror is hidden from sight.

There's a knock at the bathroom door.

“What?” I say, closing my eyes.

“Can I come in?”

“Do what you want.”

I feel like an ass, and I know I'm acting like one; but I can't seem to stop myself. I'm on a runaway train, and it's already caught fire and all I can do is sit back and watch the inevitable crash.

The door opens and Felix comes in. He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. I don't yield, not even a little.

“I'll help you,” he says. “You know I will. And Eleanor will too. It might be hopeless; it could just be a wild goose chase that never pans out. But if you think you can handle that, if you think you can handle that disappointment if we never find out anything, then I'll do whatever I can to help.”

My eyes still closed, I tilt my head back until I'm cheek to cheek with Felix. I enjoy the feeling of his stubble, but hate the itch of my own.

“I need to shave,” I say, flatly.

He laughs, and I can feel the vibration in his chest against my back. “Yeah, you do. It's driving me crazy.”

“I'm sorry I've been such a dick lately.”

“It doesn't count if you only apologize once you've got your way.”

“Okay then. I'll wait 'till this whole thing blows up in our faces, and then I'll apologize.”

“That's better.”

I turn around, so I can just hold Felix tight against me, pressing my face against the side of his neck. He's right about one thing. I really do feel like a drowning sailor, and right now, he's the only thing keeping me afloat.