Page 67

Summer

“Summer!” Alice calls from the living room, and I lurch into a sitting position. My dream melts away, leaving only the shroud of an unsettling foreboding against my skin. Rubbing my eyes, I climb out of bed and stumble out of my room. Alice sits on the couch, obviously having slept there. She is wrapped in the blanket from her bed, her hair sticking out at all angles.

She scrunches her nose, looking adorably grumpy. “We need a new couch.”

I blink, my eyes barely open. “Why are you on the couch?”

She groans and flops her head back. “There was something in my hall last night. I tried to catch it, but it kept running.”

“Something?” I ask, glancing at her unassuming door.

Alice stretches, yawning. “Like a clawing sound. I don’t know.”

I sigh. “Another thing we’ll have to deal with before the party.”

“I’ll catch it after class.” She shrugs, fighting another yawn.

As Alice and I prepare for the day, we discuss plans for the party, but the conversation drifts as we leave Kelpie.

“So, what are you going to do about Connor?” Alice asks.

I flick a quick glance at her. “What do you mean?”

“Are you considering him for more than just fun?” Alice gives me a knowing look that I return with a look of derision. She knows the answer to this. Or does she? Do I? I can’t deny that the lines are blurring. No. They only blur if I let them. I just need to… redraw them. In permanent marker.

Alice stops at the coffee cart halfway between the dorm and Manananggal Hall. She orders two large coffees, smiling at the barista as if she hasn’t unraveled everything within me with one stupid fucking question.

“Summer?” She glances at me expectantly.

“I’m fucking him exclusively. Isn’t that enough?” I blurt out. Alice blinks at me, and so does the barista, who looks increasingly uncomfortable.

“Uh… So, do you want your Danish?” Alice asks again, pointing to the bag the barista is holding out.

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” I mumble, my cheeks heating a little. I grab my coffee and pastry with an apologetic smile at the barista before hurrying away.

Alice hurries to catch up with me. “Do I detect tension? Is that why you just bit my head off about a Danish?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, sighing heavily.

“What is it?” Alice asks, nudging me.

“I’m bad at this stuff,” I say, sipping my coffee.

Alice nods. “I’m bad at it too,” she says, holding open the door of Manananggal Hall for me.

We sit down in our usual seats in Intro to Realms, and Professor Ambrose walks in a few moments later. His steps are sure and direct, his ego filling the room in a stifling wave. It’s thesame with all sorcerers. I’d judge them more harshly, but it’s the same with fae.

“I hope everyone is preparing for their upcoming interviews. Ms. Tuatha De Daanan has the pleasure of interviewing me, and I am excited to hear the questions she has come up with about her realm.”

I groan internally, thinking about the paper I have to write about Faerie. What’s the point in learning about a realm that is lost? I slide the list of questions out of my notebook, brushing my fingers over the tear stain on the paper. I’d completed it over a week ago, writing them down while looking at the tiny sprig of Faerie. Do I even want the answers to these questions? It won’t change anything, especially my past.

Professor Ambrose continues, and I turn to a new page in my notebook. My pen glides over the crisp white paper, but my mind drifts to palaces made of trees, spinning silver in the leaves, and a hidden door with scrolling vines— The bell rings, snapping me from my stupor. At some point, my perfect notes have become what looks like a mixture of strange-looking runes and possibly a map? I slam the book shut.

“What were you doodling?” Alice asks, shoving her notebook carelessly into her bag.

“Nothing. I was in a whole other world.”

Alice nods and links arms with me as we head to our next class. Luckily, I’m more focused on this one. If anything can get me to focus, it’s an hour of ancient runes. By the end of class, my mood has lifted, and I am much more grounded, the odd runes and map nearly forgotten.