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He’s not angry or amused.

He’s something else.

Something that makes my stomach flip.

I think he might be proud of me. And maybe a little in awe. But I’m not ready to just forgive him yet.

“I have about nine thousand questions for you.”

“I know.”

“I am furious with you.”

“I know.”

“I'm also...”

Happy you're here. Relieved.

So relieved I could scream.

Possibly in love with you.

Nope. Not saying that.

My courage has limits.

“I'm really fucking confused.”

His face softens.

“I know that, too.”

Damn him. My throat tightens.

I need air before my newfound backbone dissolves into tears, and I embarrass myself in front of the entire school.

“I need a minute,” I whisper, my vision already getting blurry with emotion.

I gather my ridiculous glowing skirts. And I start to walk away.

“Agatha.”

I walk faster. The crowd parts for me. Apparently my fleeing the Masquerade is tonight's newest entertainment.

Fantastic.

I hear Grimm behind me.

“Agatha, please wait.”

I don't. For once in my life, I'm very good at confrontation. But I'm avoiding him at top speed.

“Agatha!”

I increase my pace.

I push through the ballroom doors.