90. Chapter 90
“Outta the way, Sawyer,” Alex deadpans, carefully keeping her voice bored, carefully keeping her voice disdainful, carefully banishing from her voice the sweeping heat that always invades her stomach around this damn Hufflepuff fifth year with the quirky grin and sexy voice.
“Who died and gave you the right to unchallenged ownership of this side of the lake, Danvers?”
“Slytherins always get this side of the lake, Sawyer.”
“Yeah, well maybe it’s time we stop building up the divide between the Houses and focus on sharing the damn shade, huh?”
Alex scoffs and Alex tosses her hands behind her back like she’s never heard something so ridiculous.
“Outta the way, Sawyer.”
“What’re you gonna do, make me?”
Maggie is staring up into her eyes and that irritatingly sweet-faced Gryffindor she’s always hanging around with – that her sister is always hanging around with – is stepping forward with fire in his eyes and tension in his muscles, ignoring the constantly chattering Ravenclaw boy that’s tugging at his shirt and muttering “Uh, Olsen, maybe we better let the girls sort this out on their own, huh?”
Alex ignores them and steps closer into Maggie’s space and immediately regrets it, because she could drown in Maggie’s eyes and shit she was supposed to have a comeback by now.
“Try me.”
Not her best work, but it’ll do, she thinks, until Maggie just smirks and steps back and strolls off toward Olsen and Schott.
“See you around, Danvers,” she says, and Alex pretends she doesn’t feel the loss of Maggie’s warmth next to her body.
She pretends because she hates her, because sure she’s in her sister’s year and they’re in the same House and Kara swears she’s really nice, Alex, I don’t understand why the two of you are fighting all the time but Maggie’s got that smirk and that swagger and she’s always just ahead of Alex in DADA and Potions, and that is unacceptable and she will kick her ass today at Quidditch. She will, she has to, because then the heat in her core will be about winning, about being maybe, just maybe, good enough to have Eliza write to tell her she’s proud of her for once, not about Maggie’s toughness or her kindness to Kara or the way she defends the kids who get picked on or the way her arm muscles ripple when she slips off her robes and only wears a Muggle tank top in the Great Hall…
But they’re in the air, far above the screaming crowd, and Alex is squinting through the nearly torrential rain for the Snitch, and she has to catch it first because she has to win, even if Eliza will somehow find a way to be disappointed because how could you take pleasure in beating your sister’s House?
She’s got half an ear keyed to Willis’s commentary keeping score blow, and she’s half an eye on Maggie, flying the same routine on the other side of the pitch, until suddenly she’s not.
Alex doesn’t know if it was a bludger or a particularly rough wind current or gust of rain in her face, but whatever the reason, Maggie is plummeting fast to the ground, and Alex is speeding across the pitch faster than she’s ever chased after the Snitch, and half the crowd is screaming because they think Alex has spotted the damn insignificant ball, and the other half is screaming because they’re watching Maggie fall, and Alex isn’t screaming because she’s sticking her tongue out in concentration, in desperation, and she’s maneuvering her broom so she’s flying right under the path of Maggie’s fall and Alex is kicking away her broom and cradling the other girl in her arms so that when they hit the ground moments later, Alex is the one whose bones crack, Alex is the one who absorbs the heaviest blows, Alex is the one who’s keeping Maggie safe.
“Why would you do that for me?” Maggie croaks when Alex finally comes to, blinking in the dim light of the hospital wing, and it takes Alex a moment to realize that the fingers stroking the back of her aching hand aren’t Kara’s, but Maggie’s, because Kara is pacing the back of the room with wide eyes and frazzled hair and disheveled robes that make Maggie’s muddy ones seem neat.
“Kara,” Alex ignores the question, and Kara groans in relief.
“Well, you’d better answer the girl’s question, Alex, and you’d better do it with a kiss and an I’m sorry Kara, you were right, Kara, she really is lovely Kara, because I swear Alex if you did that for her and you don’t like her I will personally force the Sorting Hat to reverse its decision and put you in Gryffindor.”
“Got all your feelings out now, Little Danvers? Feeling better?”
“Actually, yes. Now, Alex?”
“Sawyer, uh… maybe we can talk about it next Hogsmeade weekend? Or something? You know, after my bones don’t feel all fused together.”
Maggie looks down and smiles and squeezes Alex’s hand gently, both of them trying to ignore a very giddily dancing Kara Danvers in the background.
“You’re on, Danvers. You’re on.”