“Celeste!” “Hey, Little Feather.” “Little Feather?” Ice. My blood became ice. Why on Earth had I used the nickname I’d heard Jarod call Leigh? “That name hurts my heart.” Naya untangled herself from my arms. “Sorry, I . . . I didn’t mean to hurt your heart.” “Why?” “Why what?” “Why does it hurt?” I longed to pretend I didn’t know, but it would’ve been a lie, and I was trying to preserve feathers. Plus, I didn’t want to lie to her. I smoothed my ponytail over the Eagles logo on my T-shirt, trying to think up something that made sense.
