Shadow Me (Shatter Me, #4.5)

by Tahereh Mafi

I have to make a conscious effort to remember that. To choose to be happy every day.

If I didn’t, I think my own pain would’ve killed me a long time ago. I’m grateful.

You’d never know he was the same dude who, in the aftermath, I found lying on the floor having a panic attack.

the morning?” I gape at him. “Are you out of your mind?” And when he says, without a hint of irony— “No more than usual” —it’s crystal clear to me that this dude is not okay.

Castle said it to me once when I was a kid: he told me I was unusually compassionate.

I always hated it about myself, that I couldn’t be tougher. Hated that I cried so hard when I saw a dead bird for the first time.

Or that I used to bring home all the stray animals I found until Castle finally told me I had to stop, that we didn’t have the resources to keep them all. I was twelve.

He made me let them go, and I cried for a week. I hated that I cried. Hat...

no one ever asks me about my day. No one ever follows up with me, no one ever bothers to peer beneath the surface of my smile. So why should I care?

“You had a hard day yesterday,” I say. “It’s all right to have a rough morning, too.”

The only thing Warner and I seem to have in common is that we both like to blow off steam in the gym.

I care about them. I want their joy. But it still hurts a little when it feels like, everywhere I look, everyone seems to have someone. Everyone but me.

Instead, I’m a big, raw, bleeding heart, and I spend my days pretending not to notice that I want more. That I need more.

Maybe it sounds weird to say, but I know I could love the shit out of someone. I feel it, in my heart.

This capacity to love. To be romantic and passionate. Like it’s a superpower I have. A gift, even. And I’ve got no one to share ...

She unhooked the hood from around her shoulders and crossed her arms. Her hair was long. Dark. Her eyes were deep. They were a light, honey color, bright against her brown skin. She was so beautiful it was scaring me.

“You’re terrible at talking to me,” she said. “I make you nervous.”

She laughed again. “I think we should start over,” she said, and held out her hand as if to shake mine. “I’m Nazeera. It’s nice to meet you.”

She smiled. It was a happy, genuine smile. I had a feeling that smile was going to kill me. In fact, I was pretty sure this whole situation was going to kill me.

I don’t know how Warner feels about muffins, but I’m guessing he’s not a fan.

Warner walks to the door and then hesitates. Slowly, he turns to face me. “You’re having trouble again.” I look up, surprised. “What?” “In love. You’re having trouble in your love life. Is that why you were late?”

“You reek of it.” He nods at me, my body. “You’re practically emanating lovelorn agony.”

“Wait a second.” I frown. “Did you just give me dating advice?” Warner tilts his head. A flicker of a smile again. “I’m merely returning the favor.”

He nods. And then, with an elegant pivot, he opens the door and closes it behind him. The dude moves like a prince. He’s always dressed like a prince. Shiny boots and fitted suits

I wait a couple of minutes for Warner and Castle to return, and while I’m waiting, I tug another muffin out of my pocket. I stress-eat it, ripping off huge chunks and blindly shoving them in my mouth.

Warner steps inside, closes the door behind them. “Why do you insist on eating like an animal?” he snaps at me. I frown, begin to speak, and he cuts me off with one hand. “Don’t you dare speak to me with your mouth full.”

She looks at me for only a second, but it feels more like she looks through me, and something about the cold, poisonous expression in her eyes breaks my heart like nothing else.

I don’t know what happened to my friend.

And then, as if this shit couldn’t get more dramatic, Lena busts through the door l...

this display—is so out of character for Juliette that it must mean she’s hurting even more than I thought. More than I could’ve imagined. Like the pain has disfigured her. I would know. I know her.

Warner might murder me if he knew I felt this way, but the truth is, I know Juliette better than anyone. Better than he does. The math is simple: J and I have been closer, longer.

Juliette cuts him off angrily. “Listen, guys, I don’t care about your personal dramas. I have a massive headache and a million things to do today, and I’d like to get started.”

Ha. Of course. Juliette has a hangover. I bet she’s never had a hangover. And if this weren’t, like, a life or death situation, I’d think it was kind of hilarious.

“Sí, Madam Supreme,” Valentina says. (I know the word sí. It means yes. I’m not a complete idiot.)

I canttttt

Warner is still staring at her. He says nothing. I almost slap him.

I look up directly into Warner’s eyes, and, I’m not going to lie—it’s a disorienting experience. That dude has some wild eyes. Pale, ice green. It’s a little unnerving.

I think maybe I’m afraid to hear the answers to my own questions. I worry about what they might reveal about me.

“I worry, sometimes, about the secrets between them. I want them to do the hard work of sucking out the poison from their past.” “Gross.”

Castle smiles. “Indeed.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder. Squeezes. “My greatest wish for you,” he says, “is for you to see yourself the way that I do: as a brilliant, handsome, compassionate young man who would do anything for the people he loves.”

Warner and Juliette are having a moment. A pretty passionate moment, right here, in the hall.

They clearly have crazy chemistry.

something about her lights a fire in him. He looks alive when she’s in his arms. Human like I’ve never seen him before.

Like he’s in love. And not only in love, but beyond salvation. When they break apart they both look a little crazy, but Warner looks especially unhinged. His body is shaking.

almost choke on a sudden, surprised laugh. “Uh, yeah, okay.” “I’m serious.” “Uh-huh.” I pat her head. So fuzzy. “I will.”

Maybe Nazeera’s big secret is that she’s actually here to help us. Maybe there’s nothing to be afraid of. Maybe the woman is just perfect.

Honestly, the ridiculousness of this whole thing would almost be funny if I didn’t think we were all probably going to die. What a day.

These two have been working on creating healing pills for as long as I can remember.

I don’t think anyone realized just how much we relied on the internet for literally everything until the lights went off. Computers and phones were taken away. Destroyed. Hackers were found and publicly hanged.

They put her in a group home with a ton of other displaced children. They were glorified orphanages. I ran away from one of those orphanages when I was eight.

It slowly kills your soul to watch a ten-year-old kid sob and scream in the middle of the night because his nightmares keep getting worse,