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The standardization of runes was accelerated by the Mayfield Breakthrough in Los Angeles, California.

As the use of Western premade spells rose exponentially, original spell development around the world decreased.

While some anthropologists argue that this led to a significant loss of cultural value and heritage in different forms of spellcasting and magic, most agree that the Breakthrough is responsible for creating the robust economy and technological conveniences of the modern-day era.

Wow. That’s fascinating. “I wonder if what I did with my d20 would have worked back at home,” I say.

Kat tilts her head, considering. “Is that a common thing people do?”

“Yeah, it’s a popular game. I mean, I feel like I’ve done that so many times playing actual D I haven’t talked to my own mom all day, and there’s no way to reach her, or Jenn, or Erica.

I hope they’re okay. I bet Erica told my mom that I was sleeping over or something, so she probably isn’t too worried just yet. But if I don’t come back tomorrow…

“Hey, don’t worry. I won’t let you get hurt.

” Kat leans in close and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and suddenly I forget to breathe.

The protectiveness of the gesture, the warm way she’s smiling at me, the scant distance between us, the fact that we’re in her bedroom—my head is spinning.

Something warm like want courses through me, something new and exciting and terrifying.

I’ve had crushes before, sure, fleeting and scant, but they’ve been more attached to the idea of possibility, like the warmth of Donna Quách’s smile and the quick and efficient way she stuffed envelopes during that one honor society volunteer event.

But it never developed into anything, and we never hung out enough for me to get to know her beyond that initial curiosity.

With fictional characters, it was easy to develop feelings for someone who I saw go from can’t-process-emotions to becoming a hero and leader despite their trauma as they go through catastrophic situations.

Erica says that’s because I’m the kind of person that takes a while to develop a romantic connection, especially since I don’t understand the way people could casually just say oh yeah, I wanna make out with that person or declare that they want to date them based on just a fleeting interaction.

All of this is new; Kat, the feelings inside me, everything from our first meeting to me taking a chance, the connection I feel, the way we could talk about anything, her whole world and all the incredible possibilities within it.

I want to kiss her, I want to hold her, I want to protect her, too.

“It’s not going to be easy,” I warn her with a smile.

“I don’t think anything worth doing is,” she says, eyes glittering with amusement.

A challenge. “Dating. Relationships. I mean, what are the chances you find someone you connect with anyway, and want to keep spending time with them? The whole you-live-in-another-universe thing? It’s just details, babe. ”

The casual use of the endearment slips out of her mouth easy and smooth, and more intimate than I’ve ever known. A warm shudder of appreciation runs down my spine, and her fingers haven’t left my face from where she was playing with my hair.

“I—” I lean in closer.

Below us, a door shuts with sudden finality, and someone walks into something and curses—a heavy male voice.

Kat blinks and gives me a sheepish look. “That’s my dad—he’s going to check in on me in a bit—he won’t look too closely since he’s in one of his sad moods, but—just don’t move, okay?”

“Okay.”

She grabs the blanket and drapes it over me and also herself, fluffing and arranging the pillows.

I guess her bed is always such a mess of pillows and stuff that an extra lump won’t be suspicious.

I lie under the covers, and her hand finds mine and squeezes.

I squeeze back, watching the light shine through the blanket.

Her bedroom door opens with a creak, and a new line of light shines in from the hallway.

“Good night, sweetheart,” her father whispers.

Kat murmurs and rolls over in her bed, feigning sleep.

The door closes and she springs up, flipping the blanket up again. “You okay?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” My heart wants to pound out of my chest, and there’s a quick realization that tomorrow is when the portal opens to go home, and tonight—tonight there’s a bed and Kat and—

She yawns. “I’m going to sleep. Fancy seems all set.”

The cat has already curled up next to Kat, the traitor.

Kat gives me a sleepy smile. “Do you need anything? Water? Toothbrush? Want some cozy clothes to sleep in?”

I turn bright red at the thought of changing into something of Kat’s. “I’m okay.”

“Are you comfortable on the bed? There’s lots of room, but if you, uh—I could sleep in the chair,” Kat offers.

“Don’t sleep in the chair,” I whisper. “It’s okay. I probably won’t sleep. I’m, like, super awake after everything today. Do you mind if I read this book?”

“Go ahead. It’ll put you right to sleep, I’m sure. But knock yourself out. You can read anything in here.” Kat hands me the Compendium and turns on a bedroom lamp. It fills the room with a soft glow. “Dad won’t find the light weird, I leave it on all the time. Wake me up if you need me, okay?”

I nod at her, struck shy suddenly. She shuffles her arms under her shirt and without any preamble shimmies out of her bra and tosses it on the floor. She snuggles back under the covers. “Good night, Brenda.”

“Good night.”

I fluff up one of the pillows and sit up with the heavy book in my lap and start at “Chapter One: A History of Magic.”