The loud silence polluted Tessa’s ears. Will’s words, still ringing in the back of her mind, bit at her like Jack Frost—pinking her fair skin with snowflakes and chilling wind. How dare he, Tessa thought bitterly, how dare he call me all those things… and after everything I did for him. Will’s black hair now sickened the girl; she was almost reduced completely to shaking. She had trusted that bastard and he had crunched her heart like a leaf under foot.
Tessa supposed she had it coming. But nevertheless, she cursed Will for his pure incompetence and apathy. She pondered on Will’s possible motives—a spell from Magnus…no… a dare from Jem… definitely not. They were both too nice… well, Jem anyway. Was this just all-too-common teenage angst—worrying over being called a harmless words; sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me! Tessa thought—or was it more? The sincerity in his voice, the stern look on his face, the severity of his stormy blue eyes clouding over… Will had never looked so disappointed. Disappointed… in himself. Tessa paced around the roof of the London Institute; where the storm raged.