The next few days were long and cold. It was awkward, this growing silence between us. He was always staring at me, but I just didn’t know what to say, or what to think. I couldn’t understand why my chest burned so much. Constantly over the next few days, I found myself pressing my hand against my chest, the purple glow shining as I tried to heal myself, but to no avail. What was wrong with me? Was I dying?
Jem was being weird as well. Every morning I’ve been waking up with my body practically glued to his for warmth and he hadn’t said anything. Where was the Jem that would have called me promiscuous and easy? Where was the Jem that would have growled at me and reminded me I was meant for another and I needed to control myself? I kept glaring at him, ready to fight with him, but a
