Both Earth and Emiarhia treated New Year's Eve as a reason to celebrate. Both had developed their own traditions and rituals, whi turn influenced each other over the turies. Oh, there were rge parties with alcohol, kissing at midnight and fireworks. On Emiarhia, the celebrations were a lot calmer. Children stayed up te to watch the first sunrise of the new year. Festivities included bonfires, musid food. It was traditional to wear blue food luck, although that trend had been dying out over the past few decades.

  I'd just finished my afternoon training session and was s through some things at Kadia's house. My room wasn't so much a room as a makeshift spa the loft. It was cramped but I was thankful for the ste. There was a rge chest, an armoire, a desk, and an old armchair. I kept stuff there that I couldn't keep around oh: gifts, school supplies, textbooks, clothing, souvenirs, and the occasional kniack. Basically everything besides armour and ons, which stayed in the barracks. I always tried my best to keep everything tidy, but I'd made a habit of throwing everything onto the floor and hoping to deal with it ter. That had resulted in a mess that I was now attempting to fix.

  From where I was standing, I could see glimpses of Kadia and Thorne i below. They were making food for the celebrations tonight and I could hear them ughing together. Thorne had decided to teach Kadia how to make a traditional Winithinian New Year's Eve meal: a stew sisting of mixed vegetables, herbs, cream, and a type of bird called a kah'lek. It was usually eaten with bread or ftbread, which Kadia was currently kneading.

  "No, no, you o be a bit meh it. Let it guide your movements. It doesn't have to be perfect, but we want it to be a nice sistency," Thorne expined.

  "I've never been very skilled at cooking," Kadia replied with a sigh.

  "You're doing fine, love. You'll get better with practice," he assured her. "It's really quite easy. All you need is the right ingredients and some basic teiques. No idea why everyone's so afraid of it."

  "Then, I am lucky to have a swain who grew up in a restaurant," she said, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

  He chuckled. "That you are."

  I felt a small pang of jealousy. It was rare to see them be fully affeate with each other, but those times were a bit hard to watch. As mortifying as admitting this was, I would find myself wishing I could have what they had. Someoo joke around with while cooking. Someoo enjoy a holiday with. Someohat would patiently help me fix a mistake, and then give me a kiss afterward. Someoo ugh with and talk with and sit in sileh. And for a moment, I let myself picture what a date with Luke would be like.

  Where would we go? Would op on the coud watch movies until we fell asleep? Would we hike somewhere beautiful and dance when we reached the top? Would we sit at a cute little table somewhere or on the grass at a park? Would I bring my camera? Would we write our names on trees in big, loopy letters? Would he ugh if I tripped over a rock? Would we go for an early m swim at the beach? Or snuggle in a b on a baly while drinking coffee? I shook my head to rid myself of these thoughts auro folding clothes.

  Love wasn't a cept I knew much about. I loved my family and my friends very much, but not romantically. I'd never experiehe kind of love you'd see in movies or read about in novels. Although I couldn't prove it, I couldn't help feeling like I was missing out. I knew lots of girls my age that had partners. It almost seemed like there were more that did than didn't. At least oh. Is it desperate to say you want that? Was I living too fast? Those questions usually led to a cycle of overthinking.

  I'd alrided myself on being indepe. I liked my aloime and wasn't a fan of any sort of spotlight. I also got sick of seeing some of the retionships arouhe happy ones were a treat to be around, until the needles of jealousy crept up. The not-so-happy ones gave me ay. Then the bad ones were just heartbreaking. Don't eve me started on toxic retionships. I would not put up with any of that for the world. I'd had the occasional nightmare about what Nathan could've doo me if I hadn't put my foot down. But I still wanted someoo make hot chocote for and ugh with. Doesn't everybody want that? Doesn't everybody want to be loved? Was I weak for admitting that? Or ical for denying it?

  I didn't want it so I could feel whole. I didn't want someoo do everything for me. Rather, I wanted romance like I wanted a successful career, or to travel, or a nice house. It was a goal. An aspiration. An adventure. Something else to make this fleeting life better. Someoo explore with, and to share the burdens of the journey with. But, of course, I had a major roadblock to that. The life of a saviour is not suitable for romantics.

  Sometimes it was like there were two parts of me, and they weren't patible at all. Brain a.

  The sound of the phing stopped me from going deeper into that rabbit hole.

  "Oh, Brielle, could you get that?" Kadia called from the kit. "Our hands are covered in dough."

  I set aside the jacket I was holding, then skidded down the loft dder. "Yep!" Pig up the silver receiver, I cleared my throat before answering. "Hello, Captain Lowell's residence."

  Shaye's voice floated out of the device's speaker. "Oh, good. I was hoping you hadn't left yet. I...need your help. you e over?"

  I furrowed my brow. "Uh, sure, but what for? Are you okay? Nothing's wrong, is it?"

  "Everything is fine," she answered. "See, Ashkan and I are having a discussion. He's had this idea for a while now, and he seems quite vinced. But it involves all three of us. It'll be easiest if you just e over and he'll expin it."

  Ashkan's words were muffled in the background. "Tell her it's a superb idea."

  "It may be so, but we need her on board for this," Shaye said. Then, louder, "Ashkan says it's a fabulous notion."

  I ughed at that. "Be there in ten." I heard her hang up, so I returhe phoo its base.

  "Who was it?" Kadia asked, stig her head out from the kit doorway.

  "It was Shaye. She said she needs my help and that I should just e over."

  "For what?"

  "I dunno. She just wants to talk about something. Could be anything."

  She crossed her arms. "Well, it wait? I mustn't leave until this has rested and risen."

  I ged. "Please, I go on my own? I'll hide my face."

  "You know the rules," she retorted. "Either yuards escort you, or I do."

  ", it's Shaye! I'll be safe! It's barely ten minutes from here to there. I'm almost eighteen and a bat-trained professional. Please?" I begged.

  "Professional? Brielle–"

  "You chee if you really think it's so dangerous. You'll know where I am. It would take too long t my guards back over from the pace," I added. "And you and Thorne deserve some time to yourselves, wouldn't you say? Without having to coddle us all the time?"

  Thorne looked up from the stew pot, his expression an insinuation.

  She smacked him on the arm. "Behave."

  He smirked and shrugged.

  Kadia turned bae. "...Fine. You may go. On one dition. That you wear your neckd teleport straight to Earth at even the slightest hint of danger. And ceal yourself entirely. Two ditions."

  "Only two? Why, I'm so lucky!" I joked, climbing back up the loft dder.

  She shook her head. "Any more sarcasm and you're out of my house."

  "I will cease," I replied as I grabbed the off the desk. I desded the dder and shot Kadia a smile as I put on my boots.

  "Don't be long," she insisted.

  I saluted with two fingers. "Yes, ma'am." Turning on my heel, I made my way to the front door.

  As I passed the long mirror that hung on the wall, I stopped. I adjusted my coat and checked my appearance. I'd showered after training, as I did every day, so my hair was still damp. The ft waves looked kind of rumpled. Something stirred in my sce. I stared at myself. Does my hair look stringy? Does this belt look okay? Do pinstripes make my legs look weird? The more I looked, the more fws I could pick out. The bluish veins around my eyes. The pores on my nose. A raw spot on my bottom lip from absentmindedly chewing on it. How my eyebrows were never exactly symmetrical. A few ae scars here and there. I must've had bad ae when I was younger on Emiarhia, just like oh.

  What the hell am I doing...?

  With a mental sp, I returned myself to the present. I took a slow breath, then pulled my hood down and my scarf over my nose. Finally, I stepped out of the house. The hinges squeaked, as usual, and the wind chimes rattled as the door swung open and closed.

  Outside, the snow was falling in fat fkes. The ground was still coated in a thick yer and the temperature was well below freezing. I quickly twisted my hair into a side braid while starting towards Shaye's house. My footsteps ched the snow as I cut through the main square. There were paratively few people out, probably due to the weather and holiday. A group of kids were throwing snowballs at each other in front of a store. Two old dies were talking animatedly at a tram station. Horses and pegasi clopped along, pulling wagons or carriages.

  As I walked, I thought back to the previous day. The mission. Simultaneously, it felt as though that was weeks ago and only minutes ago. The memory was still so fresh. The puzzles, the fire, the o. The bitter cold. Ashkan's limp body. We were expected to move on so quickly. It all ran through my mind like a movie rewinding over and over. The same images on a loop. It was hard not to wonder if he was doing all right. Had he told anyone about it? Niista? His father?

  It didn't take long to reach the familiar, tall, brownstone house. Smoke trailed from the ey. The steps were clear of snow, the walkway swept. The flowerbeds were filled with lush winter flowers. The windows were decorated with greenery and blue ribbons for the new year. There were two small wreaths on the door and a ntern by the birdbath. A small porch with a swing. Everything was always so quaint.

  I climbed the stairs and khree times. Seds ter, the door opened, revealing a slightly frazzled Shaye. Her gar hair was secured back with a clip, but flyaways were everywhere.

  "Thank the stars. Ashkan is driving me mad. e in, e in," she greeted, waving me inside.

  I smiled as I entered. "Good to know I'm not the only one."

  "You don't know the half of it," she groaned as she led me upstairs. The banister was ed in garnd.

  We entered her room. Ashkan was lying on the bed, tossing a small ball of yarn into the air and catg it. I didn't uand how he could stay so casual after yesterday. His wheat-coloured locks shone gold iernoon light.

  "Oh, good, you're here," he noted, sitting up. "Now we get down to business."

  I made myself fortable on the windowsill. "What exactly are we getting down to?"

  Shaye sighed. "I'll let him expin. It's his idea."

  He leaned forward. "Brielle, how would you feel about a tattoo?"

  My brows rose. "Huh?"

  "A tattoo. You know, perma ink under your skin," he crified.

  "No, no, I know what they are. What I don't know is why."

  "Well, they're signifit on Emiarhia. Not everyone has one, but they're pretty on. They're usually doo orate something. An achievement. A milestone. A loss. Something that ges a person's life. So, I was thinking, since we're supposed to save the world and whatnot... We should have matg marks."

  "And you came up with this because...?" I prompted.

  He shrugged. "It makes seo me. We'll o rely on each other a lot in the ing months. Maybe years. And we should have a symbol of that. Something that represents us as a unit. A link."

  "He really just wants an excuse to get a tattoo," Shaye added, giving him a knowing look.

  "I'll admit that," he ceded.

  I sidered his proposition. There was a ving argument behind it. The mark would remind us of our duty, as well as our unity. We were all different, but we were told that we shared the same fate. The same destiny. And that would bind us for the rest of our lives. Our stories were iwined whether we liked it or not. The tattoo would be a physical maion of that. Something we could see and touch. But the only thing holding me back was the permanence.

  "I have no issue with the cept. It sounds great," I told them. "But, uh, it's perma. You're sure about that?"

  "...So is death," Ashkan responded. "If we don't succeed, it won't matter. If we do, then we'll have aernal reminder of our victory."

  I stared at him bnkly. Sometimes, it was the most reasoned, intelligent, insightful things that came out of his mouth. And he'd say them like he was reading off a shopping list.

  "You be so dramatic," Shaye ughed.

  He smirked. "Only on weekends."

  I shook my head and chuckled. What was there to lose? "Okay, when you put it like that... I'm in."

  He nodded. "Excellent. It always be removed if you ge your mind. They just use a special type of tincture and a needle."

  "How do you know so much about this?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

  "I like them, that's all. I like the possibilities."

  I looked to Shaye. "And yainst this?"

  She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I am ly...against the idea. It is a nice se. The point of tention is the design."

  "Naturally, Shaye is being fussy about that part," Ashkan teased.

  "I am not fussy," she retorted, crossing her arms. "I simply believe that if we are to have a perma mark, we should choose ohat is aesthetically pleasing. Ohat we'll enjoy looking at. Not something that is rge and garish."

  "But the rger, the better. No one ever looks twice at small tattoos," he insisted.

  I watched as they went bad forth, each trying to make their case. It was kind of fun.

  "What is wrong with simple?"

  "Simple is b. It's pin."

  "It's elegant."

  "You're not being artistiough."

  "We o be practical."

  "Life's not worth living if you're not a little reckless."

  "We're not getting tattoos to impress anyone!"

  "It's a bonus if we do."

  I smiled as I listened. Shaye was a very rational, methodical person. She liked order. Everything in its pce. Aesthetics were important to her, but she also liked practicality. She was not someone who would not take a risk unless she absolutely had to. But Ashkan was sometimes the opposite. He was adventurous. Often carefree. Spontaneous. He liked to bend the rules. He wanted excitement. In a way, they plemented each other.

  "Hey, you two," I cut in. They stopped and turo face me. "This is something we're all going to have forever. So, let's agree on something that works for all of us. Something that's meaningful."

  "And it 't be something silly," Shaye added, gring at Ashkan.

  He scoffed. "That would defeat the purpose of having them. You should be proud of a mark."

  "Why don't we make a promise?" I suggested.

  "I am not promising my principles for a tattoo," she stated.

  Ashkan held up a hand. "Just hear her out."

  She nodded. "Very well. What is it?"

  I cleared my throat. "Why not bih of your ideas? Something rge enough to be impressive, but small enough not to be obtrusive. Maybe…somewhere on the inside of the elbow?"

  Shaye pursed her lips. "Hm. I suppose that could work."

  Ashkan shrugged. "Fih me. Any ideas about the design?"

  "Stars?" she offered. "Like our birthmarks. Or steltions. Something like that?"

  "I 't think of anything more perfect," I agreed.

  "Well, let's see what the artists say. There's a shop just down the road," he said, standing up.

  "Wait, right now?" Shaye questioned.

  "Yes, right now," he replied as he opehe bedroom door. "We have a pn. We're in agreement. Now is as good a time as any."

  She hesitated, then followed him. "...All right."

  I got up and tailed them, grinning. As much as they annoyed each other, I khey cared. It was sweet.

  The two of them led the way through town. The streets were slushy, the stones slid damp. Horses clopped along the roads, their hooves spshing. Snow g to everything – the mpposts, the eaves of buildings, the awnings. It was even a little quieter than earlier, with most people returning home to celebrate the new year. You'd think most businesses would be closed today, but this was the time when everyone was shopping for food and decorations, or t a new city, so it was actually rare for a shop to be closed on this holiday.

  We soon arrived at a small, brick building with a bright yellow awning. A sign above the door read, 'Crest Moons Tattoos'. The interior was warm and cozy, with hardwood floors and a dark, exposed-beam ceiling. There was a waiting area with a couch, a coffee table, and a small shelf with some magazihe walls were decorated with framed art.

  There was a man sitting behind the ter, sketg something on a notepad. His hair was shaved on the sides, but the top was long and braided. His arms were covered in tattoos.

  "Hello, there," he greeted, looking up. He set his quill down. I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he reized us. Unsurprisingly.

  "Hi, do you accept walk-ins?" Ashkan asked.

  "Always, sir," the man replied. "Have a seat. Someone will be out to help you in a moment."

  We nodded and took a seat on the sofa. Shaye was the only one who seemed nervous, while Ashkan and I were totally at ease. She sat in the middle, fiddling with her hands.

  "I 't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.

  "I ," Ashkan ented.

  "It's not too te to ge your mind," I pointed out.

  She shook her head. "I am itted. Besides, I do like the idea. It is a lovely se."

  "We're a team," I reminded her. "Whatever happens, we're in this together."

  "Until the bitter end," Ashkan chimed in.

  "Quite," she agreed. "...You know, it's funny. Inkbloods have their own matg tattoos. Marks that ect them to a horrible set of beliefs and ideals. And, here we are...choosing our own tattoos to unite us. A bit of a parallel, is it not?"

  "I guess so," I agreed.

  "Ironic," Ashkan added.

  We psed into silehe shop was mostly empty. It was quiet enough that I could hear the clock tig on the wall.

  Finally, an artist emerged from the back curtain. She was tall and curvy, with freckled skin and a long, periwinkle braid. Her catlike eyes had a slight upward tilt. Her hands and wrists were adorned with several silver rings and delicate bracelets that ked quietly. She retty, quite young, and kind of intimidating iattoos and piergs.

  "Ready for some ink?" she asked, lookiween us. "I'm Esme. I already know who you are, of course. e on back, and we talk about what you'd like."

  Ashkan pushed himself off the couch, leading the way. We followed Esme into a small, brightly lit room. There en trunk in the er, overflowing with paints, needles, inks, tinctures, and tools. A leather armchair in front of the window. An artist's sketchpad on a small table. The bare walls were decorated with various pictures and symbols. Most were tribal-style designs with dots and thick lines. A few were decorative artworks of animals or flowers. Others were words or phrases.

  Esme gestured to the side of the room, and we made ourselves fortable on an upholstered bench.

  "So, what I do for the Lumioday?" she asked, getting out her pad and quill.

  "Uh, yeah, we want to get matg tattoos," Ashkan expined. "Inside of the right elbow."

  She hummed, sketg out the area. "Have you figured out the design?"

  "We're thinking about a star," I said. "Something pretty small, but not too small. Not intricate, but not super simple."

  "And definitely not tacky," Shaye added quickly.

  Esme ughed, amused by her worried tone. "Not a problem. Nothing fshy, got it." She tinued sketg, a slight smirk on her lips. "Are you sure you're old enough to be getting a tattoo?"

  "We're all older than sixteen. Well within the w," Ashkan informed her.

  She raised a pierced brow. "Eh? Well, I could tell you are. You look more a man than some thirty-year-olds I know."

  He faltered, his face turning slightly pink. "Uh, thanks..."

  She shrugged and looked back down at her drawings, adding the finishing touches. After a minute or two, she showed us the different designs. We looked them over carefully. She had paid careful attention to what we described. They were all uhough simir in tohere were loars as well as steltions of several. Nooo extravagant or simple, leaving room to be modified.

  After discussing eae with Shaye and Ashkatled on a steltion of three modest, five-point stars to represent the three of us. They were ected with pointed lines and rays, and were surrounded by smaller stars and dots. Two of the three main stars were outlines, and one was solid bck. Each of us would have a different star that was coloured in. The entire arra was about two by three inches. Subtle, but meaningful. I thought it erfect.

  "Brilliant," Ashkan said.

  Shaye nodded in agreement. "This is the one."

  "Wonderful," Esme replied. "Should we get started? Who would like to go first?"

  We exged gnces.

  Ashkan shrugged. "Well, this was my idea. That seems fair."

  Esme grinned. "Lovely. e and sit, then."

  He got up and made his way over to the armchair. Esme prepared her materials and pulled a rolling table towards him.

  "Okay, if you'll just rest yht arm on the chair and roll up your sleeve," she directed.

  He obeyed, resting his bare forearm on the padded surface. I saw a glimmer of a smile as Esme got to work. She sterilized his skin and applied the stencil, making sure the stars were properly aligned. He didn't seem bothered by the process. She gave him a brief overview of how the ink worked.

  Tattoos on Emiarhia didn't work like those oh – rather than using needles to puncture the skin and deposit the ink, the stencil was carefully painted over with a special mix of pigments and minerals. Then, a mae was used to activate the paint and make the pigments perma, 'burning' it past the surface of the skin. Almost like an engraving, but it didn't actually damage the skin. It was only painful for a moment.

  Esme began trag the stencil with a very thin brush. She did the outline first, then started c in one of the three main stars. The ink was matte bck. Ashkan's eyes were glued to her hands, watg the progress. I wondered if he was a little nervous despite his casual exterior. He never seemed afraid of pain. Maybe the idea of permanency was more nerve-wrag.

  My eyes also wao Esme's hands. The gloved one holding the brush ressed against the inside of Ashkan's arm as she drew he crease of his elbow. The other wasn't as steady. It would move up and down his arm, then back to the side. Around his bicep, then back to his elbow. Every few minutes, she would lean closer, tilting her head to observe her work. At first, I figured the touches were just to adjust the ao see better. But there was a sistent pattern, too. It was hardly noticeable.

  I started paying more attention to her left hand, seeing where it would lihe lo. It was usually somewhere in the viity of his upper arm. And she almost always let it stay. Sometimes she'd run her fingers across his forearm, pretending to wipe off something that wasn't there. My gaze flickered bad forth betweewo. Ashkan didn't seem to realize. He gnced bad forth betweeencil and the window. The realization clicked together in my mind. Esme was totally cheg him out.

  "Almost done," she ented. "I have to say, this is one of the prettier star tattoos I've designed. It's not every day that I tattoo something so delicate on someone sed. Usually, it's skulls and swords and daggers."

  Ashkan chuckled. "I suppose we break the mold."

  "So to speak," she agreed with a smile. Her gaze wandered down to his torso for a split sed, then back up. "Such a shame I haven't seen you in here before."

  He shrugged one shoulder. "Our jourends to keep us on the move."

  "You must be stuck together a lot," she observed. "On the road all the time, running around, trying to save the world... You know, I'm sure it gets mighty stressful. 't imagine."

  "Oh, you get used to it," he replied simply.

  "Doesn't sound like much fun," she mused, keeping her eyes on her brush. "Do you ever get a ce to unwind? Do they let you rex? Enjoy the perks of being famous?"

  Ashkan flexed his fingers a little. "Sure. Every now and then."

  She nodded slowly. "Hm. I'd assume it gets dull, fag danger so frequently. Really wears on one's psyche."

  "Not nearly as much as being idle."

  "You don't strike me as the idle type," Esme noted with a grin.

  I looked to Shaye, who had been watg the exge with curious amusement. I shifted and leaned closer to her. "Um, am I crazy, or is she flirting?"

  "She's flirting," she firmed, straightening her sleeves.

  "Should we say something?" I asked in a low tone.

  "No... It's harmless. I would say Ashkan's used to it, but persistent obliviousness doesn't quite equal familiarity."

  I bit my tongue. "Yeah... True."

  We looked back at the two. Esme was finishing up the tiny stars and dots around the main piece.

  "You have excellent muscle tone," she remarked. "Training must be strict."

  Ashkan just nodded. "All part of the job."

  "Sure, sure. Looks like it's getting intense now," she tinued. "'t be easy. Be thankful that you have each other. Someoo lean on in times of need, eh?"

  Ashkan g Shaye and I, nodding again. "Definitely."

  Shaye was doing her best to hide her amusement. I could tell she was ughing on the inside. Probably rolling her eyes, too.

  Esme went on, "That sense of responsibility aion is admirable, you know?" She blinked up at him through dark eyeshes. "Very noble. Many people couldn't withstand that pressure. But I'm sure you know that already. Me, I've always thought there's a thin liween bravery and foolishness. And heroes tend to navigate it perfectly."

  "I know what you mean," Ashkan said, though I reized the tone he used when he didn't uand at all. Shaye did, too. She squeezed her lips together to keep from ughing.

  "Aha!" Esme excimed, holding up her brush. "plete. All done."

  Ashkan finally pried his eyes off the window and gazed down at his arm. "...Blimey. You couldn't even tell it was hand-drawn."

  "Thanks. I practice a lot," she replied with a proud smile. "All right. Now for the imprinting. It'll hurt, but not for long. Super quick process."

  "Go for it."

  Esme rolled over the small mae – a wand-like, bronze device with a handle and several dials and switches. It looked vaguely like one of those light therapy devices. She adjusted the settings, then hovered it over Ashkan's attoo. A holographic, blue light radiated from the wand and onto his skin. She let the beam hover there while humming softly.

  Ashkan's eyes widened a little at the tact. "Hm. That does burn..." he muttered.

  "Yup. Just sit tight for a couple of mihis'll seal and sink in the pigments so they 't rub off."

  He nodded slowly, brows ping together. Esme turhe dial on the mae and the beam intensified. Ashkan tensed. He inhaled sharply, instinctively resisting the urge to move. Shaye looked a little ed but stayed quiet.

  The seds ticked by iive silence. Some ambient music pyed from an ented radio in the er. Every few seds, Esme would inch closer to check the angle of the beam. I wondered if it was just an excuse to be as close as possible. Her left haed on Ashkan's right forearm.

  "Doing okay?" she asked sweetly.

  "Mhm," he hummed.

  "All right, very good. Just another minute."

  Esme tio hold the imprinter just above his elbow. Her fingers remained on his skin, tapping absentmindedly. I don't know why I couldn't look away from that. Shaye was now busy flipping through a magazine from a nearby stand, but I was still riveted to the sario unfolding a few feet away from me. There was no particur reason to be so focused on Esme's hand and whether it would move or not, or why. Or, if it did move, what it meant. Or the warmth in the way she g him. Especially sidering her overall posture was friendly and non-threatening. My attention moved bad forth like a tennis ball, boung between the window, Ashkan, and Esme's face.

  Every now and then, I saw a fleetiation or softness. Iions veiled. Hidden, coy, casual i. Then, I'd notice her eyes narrow slightly when he looked away. The way her expression would turn inwards, closing off into annoyance or distent. Still, it all seemed so fluid that maybe I was just watg myself being overreactive. Maybe I was just seeing things.

  Ashkan took a breath, then joked, "I imagihis is what getting branded feels like."

  Esme threw her head bad ughed loudly. Her free hand moved up to grip his shoulder. "Ha! I'd imagi's not far off."

  Something stirred withi the sight. I squinted. It was more than just the sed-hand embarrassment Esme was giving me. More than any mild incredulity or awkwardness. Now, the ughter and hand on Ashkan's shoulder were demanding my full attention. A bination of vague reition and panic bubbled up in my chest.

  I struggled to put a o it and the more I tried, the farther away it got. Hazy like mist around a ship in the night, dang evasively. Just beyond my fiips. I tio watch the bad forth, repying the st few minutes over in my mind. My eyes drifted over the shape of Ashkan's rexed frame. His calm focus was a stark trast to my rag mind. Leaning casually into the chair. Expression impassive, but for a tiny pinch between his eyebrows.

  My thoughts raced ahead of me, scrambling to form a logical e. Why was this b me so much? It was beyond the potential of Ashkan being unfortable by it. Beyond a sense of protectiveness. Some type of awareness seemed to be tugging on my sleeve. The reition fred up again, along with it an inkling of intuition, and then...realization. My thoughts suddenly unraveled like a ribbon in a strong wind.

  Oh. ...Oh.

  My heartbeat picked up. This feeling... It was simir to how I felt seeing Farrah and Luke together. That bizarre anger ament – coupled with ay and a sense of betrayal. The maelstrom of votile emotions known only as jealousy. Jealousy... I tried to figure out why it was hitting me now, but was only overwhelmed by faint memories and scattered thoughts.

  She's just a tattoo artist! I likely won't even see her again after today! So why am I...?

  A-Am I seriously jealous...?

  I went stiff, silently repeating the question in my head. Trying to run it down, poke holes in it. It wouldn't budge. The feeling didn't go away, nor did it provide any expnation. I looked to Shaye, as if somehow she would have the answer. She'd have a perfect theory. If only this wasn't her close childhood friend I was thinking about. She'd probably sp me.

  I ran a hand through my hair, feeling tense. Was I just stressed? I hadn't slept well tely. Too much training, too much trouble... I definitely needed a vaaybe I'm seeing all this wrong...

  Because if jealousy is what I'm feeling... If I actually am jealous... Then...

  That would mean... That some part of me wao be in Esme's position.

  Which would mean... I wao do something she was doing.

  Which...would mean...

  Shaye flipped a page, a stray curl falling across her eye. In trast to my tumultuous ptions, she appeared a picture of serenity. Ily reading a magazine, legs crossed, resting her in her hand. Her eyes absently moved to me, noting the dire of my gaze. I blinked, realizing how obviously dumbstruck I must have looked. I watched her expression turn fused. But there was no indication that she was sidering my internal crisis. All she did was give a small nod.

  But I couldn't return the gesture. My eyes flicked back to Ashkan, now able to pce a o the knot in my stomach. My heart tio race. Because... This shouldn't have even been iion. No, this was absolutely crazy. I must have lost my mind. There was no way. Just no way.

  There is no way in hell.

  Do... Do I...?

  I mean, him...? Seriously?

  No. No, I don't.

  I 't. It 't happen. It's not going to happen.

  "Done!"

  I snapped out of my daze, just in time to see Esme smiling at Ashkan. He peered down at his arm. With the imprint plete, his star tattoo erma. Perma and unmistakable – in solid bk that shimmered slightly. Pointed and crisp. Our own insignia. He slowly curled and uncurled his hand into a fist.

  "ow," he murmured. "Thank you. It's perfect."

  "Really?" Esme replied, practically squeaking. "Gd you like it! A piece of art for a powerful warrior. What could be better?"

  Ashkan sat up and stuck out his right arm, iing the tattoo up close. He mumbled another quiet expression of gratitude. Esme grino-ear.

  I kept my jaw shut and forced my faairal, unsure what I was supposed to say or feel now. The wheels in my head were still spinning. Questions flew past too quickly. Before I could even try to ahem, they disappeared like smoke. Lost without a trace.

  "Who's ?" Esme asked cheerfully, repg her glove with a fresh one.

  I couldn't get any words out. Shaye g me and must've interpreted my silence as ay.

  "I'll go," she volunteered before I could interject. She hopped off the bend walked over to Esme's station, taking a seat in the plush armchair. With Shaye to focus on instead, Esme appeared as nont as ever.

  I was left to my own devices as Ashkan admired his tattoo, repg Shaye's spot on the bench beside me. I found it difficult to look at him. That just seemed to amplify whatever was going on.

  He soon turo me. His gaze turned heavy and knowing. I saw him raise an eyebrow, searg my face. His expression quickly became ed. I was too easy to read.

  "...You all right?" he asked quietly.

  "Yeah," I answered just as softly, nodding food measure.

  "You look nervous.”

  "Just thinking," I said dismissively, waving a hand in the air. The gesture itself felt stiff and unnatural. Ashkan's eyes moved up and down my profile. I couldn't help but feel he was somehow pieg the situation together. I crossed and uncrossed my legs.

  His voice was gentle. "You've...been doing a lot of that tely."

  I was well aware. Although the st couple minutes had been really eye-opening. I kept my attention on Esme and Shaye, who were chatting idly, prepping Shaye's arm for the stencil. She was saying something about music. Her normal self – bright and friendly. This time, I didn't want to eavesdrop on their versation. I could barely hear it over the thoughts swirling in my brain.

  "It's not bad. Really."

  I came back to the present. Ashkan's eyes were still on me. I met his gaze. Even that felt like too much. The slightest glimpse of our bond was sending another jolt through me. My fiensed in my p.

  "Huh?" I uttered.

  "The mae. The imprinting," he expined. "It's more unfortable than painful. Don't worry."

  ...Oh. That. I'd nearly fotten about the tattoo. It seemed so trivial in parison to what I was feeling now. I pursed my lips, nodding. Ashkan observed me for a beat.

  "You hold my hand if you want," he offered casually.

  My jaw fell open. He didn't ugh or smile belittlingly. It was a simple and sincere offer. I figured he hadn't meant anything by it other than friendliness. But it still piqued my emotions. Just those words – held out like an olive branch. So tempting. Almost too tempting.

  I shook my head. "I'm not a child, Ash. I'll be fine."

  An amused look flickered in his eyes. But he said nothing more.

  I took in a slow, deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. Was this actually happening? Or just a mental break? The way I was feeling now was not...normal. It made no se was so far removed from everything I was supposed to feel, or wao feel... It was new, uling, and unexpinable.

  Ahe longer I sat there, the more se made. I'd long sidered him my friend. An ally. A teammate. Someoo joke around with and fide in. But the line was...blurring. I'd grown too used to his pany. To his charm, his quirks, his humanity. Like a mag, we'd somehow gotten drawn together. My head spun.

  No. This 't happen. I 't think of him like that.

  It 't be.

  ... it?

  I let curiosity get the best of me. I stole a g Ashkan, hoping to find an answer. I wao uand what I was feeling. What it meant. How did he fit into all this? Something had ged, somewhere along the lihat much was clear. But what? When? How? And why?

  He caught my eye and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

  "No." I forced a half-hearted smile.

  He frowned. "If it's about the tattoo, you don't have to get it."

  I sat up straight. "No, I'm getting it! I want to."

  "Then...?"

  "I'm just thinking. About stuff."

  "What stuff?"

  "...Stuff stuff."

  He arched an eyebrow. "Stuff stuff."

  "Mhm."

  "Sounds fasating." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "Well, you know you have my ear. Anytime you ."

  "...Thanks," I muttered, feeling a bit guilty.

  Ashkan didn't press any further. Instead, he turned his attention back to his tattoo, rotating his arm, iing every inch. His eyes gleamed with pride. It was a very him thing to do. As was getting a tattoo in the first pce.

  "I 't wait for the others to see this," he said. "Ivahr will be so jealous."

  That w in my head. I tried to ighe pang in my chest.

  Jealous. Of what? Esme's hand on his arm? Her casual touch? Her easy, flirtatious banter?

  ...Envious.

  What does it all mean? And am I really going to sit here and stew over it for the half-hour?

  "It does look really nice," I replied quietly.

  Ashkan smiled at me – the kind that used to be so rare from him. "It'll suit you, too."

  My stomach flipped. I gave a quick grin iurn. "Hope so."

  Esme wasn't nearly as chatty with me as she'd been with Ashkan and Shaye. Maybe it was just because I was quiet the whole time. She kept asking if I was okay or if I was too scared. It was kind of annoying. But the pain was manageable, and I was more preoccupied with what was running through my head. The whole ordeal was over fairly quickly, and she gave me the same spiel about g for the tattoo and keeping it .

  Once we paid – it was way cheaper than I thought it'd be – and thanked her, we headed out the door. A light, cool breeze swept past. The sun was high, casting the street in a bright glow. I breathed in the fresh air. It felt good to be outside again.

  Shaye pulled the shop's door closed behind us. She turned back to Ashkan, eyes wide. "Well. What fun it is being spontaneous."

  He ughed. "I 't argue."

  "The tattoos really do look niow that I see them," she added. "Perhaps I should start listening to you more."

  "You should," he quipped. "I have a great idea twice a year, at least. And this is definitely one of them."

  "We'll see." She paused and checked her watch. "I suppose we should head home now."

  "Probably a good idea," he agreed.

  I stayed quiet. My mind was still rag.

  "Feelier, Brielle?" he asked, gng at me.

  "Yep." I nodded and hoped I sounded ving.

  He squinted, unvinced, before studying my face again. "...Okay."

  I didn't meet his eyes. If I did, I was certain he'd see right through me. And the st thing I needed was for him to realize what was going on in my head. He'd probably freak out. Or worse – ugh. I was having a hard enough time with this myself.

  I sighed inwardly.

  God, how did I end up in this mess?

  As if the tattoo itself wasn't enough, the emotional upheaval was exhausting. By the time I returo Earth, all I wao do was go upstairs and crash. I didn't want to think anymore. Not about what I'd experienced, not about how to process it, aainly not about Ashkan. I didn't want to think about him and that stupid tattoo. Or him and his stupid eyes. Or his stupid jokes, stupid smile, stupid everything.

  "I'm home!" I called out, opening the front door.

  "You're back a bit te," Dad said. He stood at the kit sink, rinsing some dishes. Mom was o him, wiping down the ter.

  "Yeah," I replied, stepping inside. "I, uh...got a little sidetracked."

  Mom eyed me. "With what?"

  "I, um..." I hesitated. Now that I was about to say it out loud, it was weird. "I got matg tattoos with Shaye and Ashkan."

  They both stopped and stared at me.

  "...You what?" Mom finally said.

  "What'd you get?" Dad questioned, grinning.

  "An arra of three stars. It's like a steltion," I expined, gesturing. "On the inside of our elboanted something to represent our team. It's like an insignia. Or a symbol. For unity. And friendship."

  "How nice!" Dad excimed. "When did you guys decide that?"

  "Today," I ughed.

  "Well, what inspired it?" Mom inquired, raising her eyebrows.

  "Ashkan, mostly," I admitted. "He's been wanting one for years. This was his excuse to finally get it."

  "That's him," Mom ented, chug.

  "I'll show you ime you're in Emiarhia, Dad," I said, turning to him.

  "I'd love to see it," he responded. "I'm always gd to hear when you three do something fun together."

  "It was a good bonding experience," I joked.

  "I'm sure."

  I g Mom. She had a hint of a smile on her face. "Well, if it makes you happy, then I'm happy."

  I smiled back. "Thanks, Mom."

  I left the kit, walked through the living room and took the stairs two at a time. The moment I reached my room, I threw myself onto my bed, nding face-first against the pillows. I exhaled deeply a my body sink into the mattress. Finally, a ce to breathe. To be pletely alone.

  I k wasn't the best idea to ignore all the houghts and feelings running through my head, but I couldn't deal with them now. Not in the moment. Maybe not ever. It would just make things more plicated. More messy. More awkward. More fusing.

  Besides, I had a party that night I o prepare for.

  "Hey, YEAH!"

  Joel's microphone screeched not even one sed after he sang a few notes. He recoiled and winced.

  Spencer cpped her hands over her ears. "Feedback, babe! Feedback!"

  "Sorry, it's new!" he excimed, readjusting the mic stand.

  Him and the rest of his bandmates were busy setting up in my backyard, a safe distance away from the pool, he wall of the house. Their equipment was scattered across the deck. Guitar cases, amps, cables, microphones, and more. I did my best to help them haul everything over.

  I checked my phone. December 31, about seven-thirty. My friends would be arriving in just over an hour. A slight breeze swept through the backyard. String lights and nterns had been strung up oio and surrounding trees. The inside of the house was plete with drinks, snacks, musid a ck of parents. They left soon after I returned from training to celebrate New Year's at a fancy hotel doith their friends. They told me they wouldn't be batil tomorrow. Obviously, I had their permission to throw the party, so long as it didn't get too rowdy – meaning ns, alcohol, or anything else illegal. It was only inteo be a fuogether with friends and cssmates. Nothing wild.

  "How's it sound now, ile?" Joel asked, pying a riff on his guitar.

  I gave him a thumbs-up. "Much better!"

  "Rad. Thanks!" He strummed a few chords to test out the notes.

  "Are you sure you guys don't wao pay you freeing to this?" I asked.

  "No way," he said, adjusting his backwards cap. "A sick party with good people and free snacks? Sounds perfect. Right, guys?"

  His bandmates murmured in agreement.

  "We'll just take any tips and donations we ," he added.

  I chuckled. "Got it."

  "Besides, we're happy to py somewhere other than a dive bar or basement. That's where we're used to perf."

  "And I appreciate it," I told him.

  "Hey, we should give you an honorary title," Joel suggested.

  "Like what?"

  "Hmm..." He tapped his thoughtfully. "Chloe, patron saint of rockers and partygoers everywhere."

  I ughed. "That's a mouthful. Maybe we work on that."

  He smirked. "We workshop it ter. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some sound checks to finish."

  "By all means," I said, turning on my heel.

  I headed baside the house and into the kit. I opehe fridge and double-checked that there was enough food and drink. My parents had gone all-out; they stocked the kit with chips, crackers, veggies, dips, soda, fruit, dy, pretzels, juice, and more. We were set. I still couldn't decide if I was more thankful or embarrassed by my parents' insisteo eheir daughter could be as socially acceptable as possible.

  Shortly after eight o'clock, the doorbell rang. It was Niki, Reese, Lauren, and Jess, alongside a handful of other mutual friends.

  "You guys made it!" I greeted, throwing open the front door.

  "We made it!" Lauren cheered, stepping inside. She held up a grocery bag. "I brought some drinks."

  "And I brought dessert," Reese announced, holding up a tray of cupcakes.

  "Aw, you didn't have to," I told them. "There's a giant table i of food. Help yourself."

  "Sweet," Jess said, rubbing her hands together. "I'm starving."

  The group followed me into the house. I could hear the distant thrumming of Acid Punch's music pying in the backyard. A few more people trickled in. By eight-thirty, there were about fiftees. By nine, everybody I'd invited was here. Well, everybody except for one.

  "Did Luke text you back yet?" Spencer asked, nudging me.

  I checked my phone. No messages. "Nope."

  "He's probably just caught up," Niki replied. "Give him some time."

  "Yeah," I agreed, putting my phone bato my pocket. "Hopefully he shows up soon."

  "You know how it is," Reese said. "Maybe he slept in and fot."

  "I'm sure that's all it is," Spencer added.

  They were right, of course. It was New Year's Eve. Luke ur guy with, in my eyes, tons of friends. It made sense he'd be io a lot of different parties. Maybe he just got distracted or lost track of time. But that didn't stop me from staring at the front door every few minutes, hoping he'd walk through.

  As the hours wore on, I found myself less worried and more disappoihere it in my stomach that grew heavier with each passing minute. Every time someone new walked through the door, my heart sank a little lower. I was cheg my phone stantly. I kept reminding myself that I shouldn't care so much. But I couldn't help it. I was so ed up in why Luke wasn't here that I barely noticed the growing masses of people.

  By ten, the house was more crowded than I'd intended. At least thirty people were in attendance. Most were gathered in the living room, dang to Acid Punch's music, ughing, talking, and generally having a great time. Others were scattered around the kit and dining room, snag on food and pying games. Some were outside, enjoying the fresh air. I'd given everyohe run-down of where to find things, what was avaible, and so on.

  "I didn't realize so many people would show up," I admitted, squeeziween a group of cssmates.

  "Why not?" Spencer questioned.

  "I'm not sure. It just feels...surreal, I guess. I definitely didn't personally invite half of these people."

  "It's your house. They're here for you," she replied.

  I snorted. "We both know that's not true."

  "It's true for the people who care about you."

  "Always the sweet talker," I teased.

  She rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know it."

  I sed the room again, hoping to spot Luke. I was starting to think he wouldn't show up. Not that I was bitter. Of course not. How could I be?

  "You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Spencer said.

  My face warmed. "Maybe."

  "He'll show up. Just rex and enjoy yourself!" she insisted, patting my arm. "It's a brand new year. You've got a lot to look forward to."

  "Yeah, I know," I replied, giving a short sigh. "You're right."

  "Of course I'm right."

  I smiled. "Thanks."

  My hands wandered down to the bottom of my shirt, fiddling with the hem. I couldn't help but feel a little underdressed pared to Spencer. She'd shown up wearing a dark grey, cropped sweatshirt, an asymmetrical, blue sequin mini skirt, fishs, and bck, heeled bat boots. I was in a long-sleeved, bd lime green graphic shirt tucked into dark jeans. Not a big deal, but a stark trast.

  "Are you sure I don't o wear something else?" I asked.

  "Why?" she queried, looking me over. "You look cute."

  "Okay, but you're a fashion i," I replied, gesturing to her outfit.

  "Oh, please," she scoffed. "I'm just dressed for a party. And you are, too."

  I gnced down. "This is dressed for a party?"

  "Well, it's more casual, but that doesn't mean it's bad," she crified. "You've got a very chill, but still put-together vibe going on. It's not about what you're wearing. It's how you wear it."

  I raised my eyebrows. "That's a very wise thing to say."

  "Thanks," she ughed. "I saw it in a movie once. But, seriously–" She grabbed my shoulders. "Stop overthinking. Yonna be fine. More than fine, even. You're a damn catch, and Luke already knows it."

  My face heated up.

  She squeezed my shoulders. "I love you. Trust me."

  I ughed. "Well, when you put it like that..."

  As another song faded out, Joel spoke into his microphone, "All right, folks, we're gonna take a little break. Grab some water and we'll be back soon. In the meantime, enjoy these tunes; a pylist curated by yours truly."

  He fiddled with his ptop and a familiar beat filled the air. I was a little ed about leaving the back door open because of the temperature, but with so many people inside, keeping warm wasn't going to be a problem. Joel pyed a mix of cssid modern party songs. It was the perfect blend of pop and rock, upbeat and fun. I hought I'd see the day when a party was taking p my house. And I didn't dislike the ge.

  Spencer left briefly to go chat with her boyfriend. A few cssmates I hadn't spoken to in a while came up to me to say hi. There was some light versation, pliments on the house, questions about school. Pretty basic small talk. Besides that, I was buzzing around like a madwoman making sure everyone was safe and tent. I double-checked the food table, made sure the front door en, and tried my best to up any trash I saw. With each passing hour, the atmosphere felt a little more frantic.

  When eleven o'clock struck, the house was crowded with almost twice as many guests as before. I hardly reized anybody anymore. A sick, uneasy feeling gathered in my chest. I was staring at an undeniably rge party and it was my responsibility. How did something so great start to feel so anxious? I hated to admit it, but I was nervous. Sure, Spencer was doing her best to calm me down, but her fidence alone couldn't soothe me. I wasn't mentally prepared to py hostess to such a swarm of students. When I snuck upstairs to my bedroom for a breather, nobody even noticed I was gone. And that only made me feel worse.

  I flopped onto the edge of my bed and buried my fa my hands, breathing deeply. I just wanted a break. Somewhere quiet. Secluded. Anywhere. I'll be ba five minutes, I promised myself. I'll go downstairs and rejoin the party like nothing happened. It's fi'll be fine. A few extra people showed up, so what? That's normal. It happens. It's a party. Nothing bad is going to happen.

  The view from the top of the staircase only affirmed my worries. Everything was in such disarray that I had to just stand there and stare. The music was bring at max volume. Voices and ughs filled the air. Piles of coats and bags gathered in every er. The lights had been dimmed. People were moving past one another as they weaved between rooms. Most were drinking. I knew I couldn't assume the premises had remained alcohol-free. What was meant to be a trolled enviro had erupted into a massive celebration.

  I was so distracted by the chaos that I almost didn't notice him standing iryway.

  His eyes lifted, meeting mine. I stared at him for a moment.

  It took me a sed to piece together that it was really him.

  Finally.

  I desded the stairs as quickly as I could without tripping. "Luke! You're here!"

  He smiled brilliantly. "Yeah. Sorry I'm te."

  I ushered him out of the doorway. "No, don't apologize; e in. I'm gd you made it."

  "Thanks," he said, stuffing his hands into his bck, slightly baggy jeans. His crew neck sweatshirt atterned with thiical stripes in shades of turquoise, blue, dark green, yellow, and white, all with various widths. The whole look was slightly pedestrian for him, but holy really stylish. Let's just say it didn't do anything to lower my odds of heart palpitations.

  "It's a bit packed in here. I'm sorry," I told him, almost yelling over the noise. "I know I talked about keeping it chill. So... I don't know how this happened."

  He ed his owards the living room. "It looks like a frat party exploded. That's for sure." I winced. His grey-blue eyes flicked bae. "Is it too much? We shut it down if you want."

  I blinked in surprise. "What?"

  "Do you want to send everyone home?" he asked sincerely. "It's your house. If it's getting out of trol, you're allowed to stop it."

  I chewed my lip. How me would I be if I kicked everyo just because it was a little rowdy? Spence would drag me for sure. My palms felt sweaty. My heart was rag. Then I caught a brief g Luke. He watched me patiently, waiting for a respohe ers of his mouth curled up in a half-smile. God, why was he always so thoughtful?

  I shook my head. "Nah. I'm okay."

  "Well, if you're positive," he replied with a nod. "But I'm prepared to fight my way through drunk teenagers if needed. At your and."

  I ughed. "I appreciate it."

  Spencer suddenly appeared at my side. "Oh, awesome! You're here!"

  "Heya, Spencer," Luke greeted.

  "Hey!" she replied, fshing him a grin. "I got the Times Square ball drop pying oV. One hour left!"

  "Sweet," he remarked, gng at the s.

  "Do you want a drink or something?" I asked. "There's plenty of snacks, too."

  "Yeah, sure," he answered.

  Spencer led the way into the kit, parting a path through the crowd. We squeezed our way through, weaving around bodies and limbs. The kit and living room were equally packed. It almost seemed like half the students at Oside were in my house. And it was nearly midnight.

  "I'm gonna go check up on the band," Spencer announced, pointing towards the back door. "Make sure they've got all they need. You guys stay put, 'kay?"

  "Gotcha, thank you," I firmed.

  She winked and headed off.

  "So," Luke began, turning to me. He took a sip of his ginger ale.

  I grabbed a chocote chip cookie from a nearby tainer. "So."

  "How are you doing?" he asked.

  "Oh, uh... Fine," I answered, biting into the cookie. "Just overwhelmed. Not really expeg to have so many people here."

  He nodded. "I figured."

  "What about you?"

  "Me? Great," he replied, leaning against the ter. "I was running te 'cause I was helping my uh something. Got caught up. Sorry."

  "Don't worry about it," I told him, waving a hand.

  We fell silent, but it wasn't unfortable. The two of us stood there, surrounded by loud, eic cssmates. Somehow, I didn't feel as anxious as earlier. Maybe it was Luke's presence. I felt grounded. And he seemed perfectly at ease with the chaos. I was surprised at how natural this felt. We weren't even talking; just standing i, watg everyone move around, ughing and drinking. Like in our own little bubble.

  The only thing that kept me from rexiirely (other than the noise) was the thought of our versation on Christmas. 'Let's put a pin in it', he'd said. 'Until things bee clearer.' Those words echoed in my mind. Luke didly say he had feelings for me, but he also didn't not say that. I interpreted the versation more as the admission of the potential for feelings rather than an ht decration. At least, I kneas feeling. I'd e to terms with it weeks ago. It was obvious, now. Obvious and terrifying.

  My impulse was t it up to see if he'd e to any sort of clusion in the six days since I'd st seen him. But I k was too soon. I knew I had to give him more time. It didn't matter how much I wao hear him say those words. He had to be ready to admit them. I wanted him to be ho, whether good or bad.

  "You got any New Year's resolutions?" he asked, startling me.

  "Oh, uh..." I stammered, trying to refocus. "Not really."

  "e on, there has to be one," he insisted, smirking.

  I thought for a moment. The only thing that came to mind was wanting to survive whatever Emiarhia was going to throw at me. That was kind of morbid. Definitely not what he was looking for. ...Or should know about.

  "Maybe just... Keep trying to get out of my fort zone," I settled. "Like, try hings and all."

  "Oh, yeah? What sorts of hings?" he questioned, his voice tinged with amusement.

  I gave a slight shrug. "Anything. Just, anything that makes me happy."

  He ughed softly. "Sounds good. I might have to do the same thing."

  I smiled. "What about you? Any resolutions?"

  "Nah, not really," he said, shaking his head. "I'll probably just try to focus on school. I've got a lot going on."

  "Ah, yes," I teased. "Very important. Very mature."

  "Thank you, thank you," he joked, giving a mock bow. "I try."

  Luke and I hung out i for a while longer. I didn't pn on shirking my hostess duties entirely, but a break was very mueeded. And, luckily, no one was b us. Clearly the appeal of a teenager's house wasn't the host. Our versation flowed naturally. It always did. Laughing and joking with him eased my nerves. Before I k, midnight was basically here.

  "Damn, a few more minutes," I realized.

  "Yeah. Time flies," he chuckled.

  "Oh! Oooh! Not much longer now!" Spencer excimed, bursting into the kit. "e o's go watch!"

  Luke and I followed her into the living room. There wasn't any space left on the furniture, so we squeezed ourselves between a group of people. Joel and the rest of his bandmates soon joined us. The anticipation in the air alpable. I checked my phone. Just two more minutes.

  The giant TV in the living room showed various vantage points of Times Square. The entire se was alive, packed with cheerful people eager t in the new year. My mind wandered. Going out iy with such massive crowds had always sounded daunting, but the joy of so many people felt tagious. It must be fun. ...Or a hellscape.

  "All right, everyone! One minute left!" Joel decred. "Get your champagtles ready!"

  I shoved my phone in my back pocket. Standing elbow-to-elbow amongst the crowd, I turo Luke. "Humans are so weird. Why do we do this?"

  "As a gesture of hope, perhaps," he suggested. "The start of a new year is a marker. The world end tomorrow, or the universe expand indefinitely, but right now, for a moment, we're here. And sometimes you o celebrate the small things."

  I stared at him, lips parted ihat...was genuinely beautiful.

  He noticed my rea and chuckled. "What? I 't be funny and wise?"

  I let out a ugh, trying to ignore how close we were standing. "You're just full of surprises."

  At that moment, Joel shouted, "Thirty seds, folks! Speak now or forever hold yrets!"

  Somehow, everyone crammed even clether. We took up pretty much every free square foot of fl. In the crowd, I stood pressed up against Luke's chest. I ughed awkwardly, trying to give him more room, but only ended up squished between him and a random senior on my right. Luke wasn't pining, though. I ed my o peer up at him. His head slowly tilted, eyes falling downwards. I felt his hand move up to rest between my shoulder bdes, helpiay upright. Being tall didn't make it easier to avoid collision in the mob. It was the tangle of feet ahat made maneuvering difficult.

  Luke suddenly lowered his head, bringing his mouth o my ear. "Hey. This okay?"

  I turned my head in slight fusion and was met face-to-face with him. Our eyes locked. Goosebumps. I nodded without hesitation. This wasn't a big deal. Or it shouldn't be.

  "TEN!"

  azes held.

  "NINE!"

  I fought the urge to hold my breath.

  "EIGHT!"

  Maybe it was just the otion of the crowd.

  "SEVEN!"

  But was his face getting closer to mine?

  "SIX!"

  Or was I getting closer to his?

  "FIVE!"

  Luke spoke, "I... I tell you something?"

  "FOUR!"

  The stupid impulse to answer with, 'I don't know, you?' fshed in my brain. I quickly disregarded it and answered, "...Of course."

  "THREE!"

  He took a breath. "I have a good feeling about this year."

  "TWO!"

  I smiled. "Me too."

  "ONE!"

  If this was a movie, I would've leaned in and kissed him. But I couldn't bring myself to do that. It wasn't right. Not yet, at least. I didn't want to make a move without knowing how he felt.

  The room exploded with cheers. "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"

  A flurry of movement surrounded us. People were jumping, hugging, kissing. The band kicked off another pylist of music. Luke and I didn't move. Our faces were still close. I wasn't sure what to do. My heart pounded wildly. The world did outside of us. For a split sed, I wondered if I'd dreamed the st five hours. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe the party had never happened. Maybe I was alone in my bedroom, dreaming about what the year ahead would hold.

  Then, Luke's hand brushed my cheek. My heart stuttered. I blinked in surprise. He gave a soft ugh, almost unnoticeable uhe bring music. Slowly, his face began to lower towards mine. My breathing hitched at the sight of the gentle, yet unmistakable iion in his eyes. My mi bnk. This was actually happening. He was actually–

  CRASH!

  I gasped and jolted away from Luke, startled by the deafening sound. It was a crash and a boom and a bang. A huge noise. My head so the source. Everyone froze and stared, unsure of how to react. My eyes widened. A chill washed over me. Oh no. Leaving Luke behind, I elbowed my way through the crowd and towards the kit.

  Someone had knocked over the bowl of punch from the isnd ter, which had shattered against the wood floor. Shards of gss and red liquid were spshed in all dires. Fuming, I looked up to see the culprit standing on the ter, solo cup in hand.

  It was Ivy, one of Farrah's best friends – the tter of which was standing nearby. The rest of that clique was hanging around as well. I knew for a fact I hadn't invited any of them.

  "What the fuck are you doing?!" I excimed, gring daggers at her.

  She shrugged, taking a sip. "I... Oops."

  "Are you kidding me?! Get off the fug ter!" I demanded.

  "Why?" she scoffed, stepping down anyway. "You've probably got like, thirty other crystal bowls. Chill."

  "No, I don't! This was my grandma's!" I snapped. "And it's ruined now, so thank you."

  Ivy rolled her eyes. "Why'd you put it out, then?"

  I couldn't even think of an ahe shock of the i left me speechless. All I could do was stand there and stare, my face twisted in frustration. She didn't even have the decy to act apologetic.

  Farrah, meanwhile, watched the exge with a smirk. "Ivy, don't listen to her. It's not a big deal. She's just throwing a fit because you interrupted her moment with her little boyfriend."

  I ched my jaw, my body going tense. "Shut up, Farrah. Go home."

  "I'll go when I'm ready," she replied, shrugging.

  "No, you'll ght now," I insisted.

  "Or what?" she ughed.

  "Or I'll call the cops," I threatened.

  "You won't do that," she replied. "Because then everyone here would get busted. And, oh no! That would be a terrible stain on your reputation."

  I opened my mouth tue, but nothing came out. She was right. I wasn't going to get my parents in legal trouble. I hated to admit it, but she was a step ahead.

  "Oh, and speaking of reputation," she began, feigning casual boredom, "how is the whole 'popur' thing w out for you?"

  My brow furrowed. "What?"

  "You moved schools and ged everything about yourself." She crossed her arms. "You wao be popur. Did you get what you wanted?"

  "Why do you care?"

  "I'm just curious. Do you feel important now? How does it feel, finally being part of the 'in' crowd? To finally be accepted?"

  I didn't respond.

  "Because it feels a little pathetic, if you ask me," she added, giving a shrug. "You were such a loser ba Mia. Now, look at you. You're still the same old b Chloe. Except, now you're just an attention whore. A desperate nobody with a god plex."

  My mouth went dry. "How do you know about Mia?"

  She huffed, exasperated. "I don't o know everything about you to know who you are. But I suppose you just firmed it. So, go ahead, keep pretending like people want you around. Keep pretending like you make yourself into someone likable."

  My eyes fell, and my gaze focused on the puddle of punch, cherry red and sticky. I felt the weight of several pairs of eyes. My ears were ringing. Farrah's words echoed in my mind, a stant taunting loop. I felt nauseous. I'd never wao be the tre of attention, a here I was, the entire room's focus.

  "Hey," Spencer spoke up, appearing at my side. "What's going on?"

  "Just talking," Farrah remarked, nont.

  Spencer looked to me, waiting for an expnation. But I couldn't speak. What was I supposed to say? That Farrah had just read me like a book?

  "It was an act," Ivy cut in. "I fell."

  "Okay, that's bullshit," Spencer dismissed, gring at the both of them. "You'd better leave. This party is over."

  Farrah ughed and shook her head. "You've got a lot of elling me what to do."

  Spencer ignored her, iurning to the rest of the party. "Everybody out! We're done here! You have these lunatics to thank."

  A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some people moved immediately, but others remained, clearly fused. A few students had their phones out, no doubt filming. Joel walked over to the stereo and tur off. The music stopped, and the noise died down.

  "Seriously, get out!" Spencer ordered, herding people towards the front door. Joel and Luke started following her lead. "Party's over! Thanks for ing! Call an Uber if you're drunk! Get out!"

  Slowly, the group dissipated. The room emptied, and I watched Farrah and her friends walk out the door, but not before shooting me gres. Ohe st guest left, I let out a shaky breath.

  "Holy shit," Spencer muttered, looking at me. "Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine," I lied.

  "That was really fucked up," Joel remarked from beside her.

  "Yeah, it was." Luke eyed me cautiously. "You good?"

  I couldn't look at him. "Uh-huh." I grabbed a broom from the closet and began sweeping the broken gss. "Sorry you guys had to see that."

  "Don't be sorry," Joel told me.

  "You don't have anything to apologize for," Spencer added.

  I paused and gnced up. All three of them wore ed expressions. I khey meant well, but their made me kind of unfortable. I didn't want them thinking I couldn't handle myself.

  "Well, thanks for, uh, for helping me kick everybody out," I said, giving an awkward chuckle. "Really, I appreciate it."

  Spencer waved a dismissive hand. "We've got your bao problem."

  "I think I'm gonna this up, and then, um... Maybe just go to bed," I decided.

  "We'll stay and help," Joel offered.

  "Oh, no, no, you guys should go," I insisted, gesturing to the door. "It's fine, really. I'm almost done."

  "Chloe, e on," Spencer said gently. "It's cool. We'll help. This, uh, this isn't the only mess around."

  "We'll have this pce back to normal in no time!" Joel chimed in.

  Spencer gnced over her shoulder. "Luke, go find some garbage bags, will you?"

  He nodded and disappeared down the hallway. Joel began colleg the ptes and cups strewn about everywhere. I let out a heavy sigh, tinuing to sweep.

  "Hey," Spencer said quietly. "Fet about those bitches, okay? They're not worth your time."

  "I know," I mumbled.

  "No, seriously. Like, we should find their Instagram ats and post a bunch of anonymous hate ents."

  "Please don't," I ughed. "I think that's bullying."

  She giggled. "I won't. But, you know, I would."

  I smiled a little. "Thanks, Spence."

  Luke returned with some garbage bags. The four of us ed up the rest of the house, putting things back where they belonged. After gathering every shard of gss into a bag, Spencer and I mopped up the spilled punch. Joel and Luke took care of the garbage. With their help, the work didn't take long. I made sure to set aside the bag of gss after realizing I could likely bring it with me to Emiarhia ter and use magic to fix it. That way, my parents would never know.

  By one a.m., the house otless. I walked Spencer, Joel, and Luke to the door.

  "Well, happy New Year," Joel joked.

  "Happy New Year," Spencer ughed.

  "Yeah, happy New Year," I said. "Thank you guys for helping me up."

  "You're wele," Spencer replied. "I had a lot of fun. And, you know, we're not gon Farrah ruin that."

  "Agreed," Joel added.

  I nodded, gng at Luke. "Thanks."

  "Of course," he said, giving a half-smile.

  Spencer gnced between him and me. "Well, we should probably go."

  "Uh, yeah, it's te," Joel remarked, looking at Luke. "Let's go."

  The two of them said goodbye and headed towards Joel's car. I waved and watched them go. When the lights faded into the distance, I looked back to Luke, who was leaning against the doorframe.

  "Well," he began, "that was eventful."

  I bit back a ugh. "Yeah. That's a word for it."

  He sed the room. "Everything back to normal? We didn't miss anything?"

  "Mhm. My mom's gonna kill me about that bowl, though. I feel like this party wasn't really a good idea."

  He pursed his lips. "...I'm sorry."

  "Don't be," I dismissed.

  He stood upright. "Okay, uh... Well... Goodnight."

  "Yeah, see ya," I murmured, crossing my arms.

  He turned, his back fag me. "...Actually, wait." He quickly faced me again, an uled expression on his face. "Before I go... I ask you something?"

  "Um, sure," I replied, surprised.

  "You might not like it."

  "Uh... Then, no. I mean– Maybe. Try me," I rambled.

  He ughed lightly, adjusting his posture. "Right. So, uh, Farrah was saying some really cruel things."

  I sighed, twiddling my thumbs. "...Yeah."

  "But, um," he tinued, clearing his throat, "I was w... Did she, uh, did she have a point? When she was talking about your st school? And... That you felt the o…rei yourself?"

  My eyes widened. "I... Um, I mean... Maybe..."

  His brow furrowed slightly. "You alk about it."

  "I don't really like to," I admitted. "I didn't have a good time, and that school is part of the past. It doesn't matter anymore."

  "Do you... Do you want to talk about it?" he questioned, his voice soft. "Because we talk if you're feeling upset. If you're feeling like she brought bay bad memories."

  My heart seized for a moment. What could I say to that? My brain was moving too fast yet too slow at the same time. Memories flooded my mind, mixing with the events of the party. None of this was supposed to happen. Maybe I really was craving acceptance more than I thought. In Mia, I wasn't just alone. I was lonely. A lot of the time, I didn't even feel like a person. I was a ghost. Not good, nor bad. So, naturally, when I moved here, I made an effort to ge that. I wao rewrite history. I o be different. I couldn't live that way anymore. I hated how insecure I'd been at my old school.

  "You don't have to," Luke added hurriedly. "I mean, you tell me or not. Whatever you want."

  I stared at him. Part of me wao tell him everything, to be totally ho. Just to see how he'd react. But the other part was terrified of doing that. Because that would require divulging into my extremely embarrassiremely personal past. Then what would he think of me? Would he just pity me?

  "It was hard," I mumbled, "when I lived in Mia."

  His eyes were gentle. "How was it hard?"

  My chest tightened, but the words came tumbling out before I could think. "I was really lonely a out, and I felt like I was the problem. Like I was innately unlikable. I didn't feel like anyone wanted me around. And it sucked, because all I wao do was make friends."

  Luke didn't say anything, clearly unsure of what to say. Maybe I'd shocked him into silence. We held eye tact, and I felt guilty. Everything I said painted a pathetic picture. But then, he gave a light shrug.

  "I rete."

  "You ?" I echoed. "To what?"

  "Not feeling likable," he expined, his voice quiet.

  "Wh–? How?" I blurted out. "You're not unlikable at all."

  He raised an eyebrow, looking at me. "Well, everyone e is trying to figure out who they are. And, a lot of the time, people try to fit in a certain mold. It's easier than putting in the work to find yourself. So, we find pseudo-happiness in sameness, surround ourselves with people who are basically more of the same, and boost os by whoever's even slightly different. Textbook self-preservation tactic."

  I didn't reply for several seds. All I could do was stare at him, frozen in pce. I hadn't expected such a rationalization. A statement that made plete sense of the world around us. The ity spiral.

  "Um, not to say that everyone is like that," Luke crified, ughing a little. "Just, you know, in my experience."

  "Are you...sure you're human? And not a wizard or something?" I asked, stifling a ugh.

  "Hah, I'm sure. I just pay attention to how people act. That's all. And..." He ran his fihrough his hair. "I hope, at least, you're fortable being yourself around me."

  I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. "I am. It makes a lot of sense, actually. I just... I don't think I've ever heard a it so eloquently, like, ever."

  "Oh, well..." He gave a shy chuckle, his cheeks turning pink. "Um, thanks. Sorry, I'm not sure where that came from."

  "No, don't be sorry. That was really cool. Inspiring." I smiled. "And it kind of made me feel less alone."

  He mirrored my expression. "Good. Well, you're not alone. Not while I'm around."

  A weird feeling flickered in my chest. An iing mixture of gratitude and warmth. "...Thanks, Luke. And, I'm sorry we keep having these moments of difficulty where one of us needs f. I promise it's not iional."

  He gave a melodic ugh. "No worries. It's probably just fate telling us we're supposed to be friends."

  My smile faded. Just friends. Of course. That dreaded word. Stop that, I reminded myself. You have bigger issues on your pte. Now's not the time to be selfish.

  "Anyway," Luke tinued, "it's really te, and I should let you get to bed. But, I'm here. Whenever you need me, okay? Whether you want to talk about anything, or... You know, whatever. Anytime."

  "Thanks," I replied, f a small smile. "Right back at ya."

  "I know. Goodnight, Chloe. Sleep well. Happy New Year."

  I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Wot stu my throat and refused to budge. Luke stepped off the pord headed down the driveway. I told myself to call out, to stop him, to thank him, to... What was I supposed to say, though?

  "Happy New Year," I mumbled, hoping the wind would carry it all the way to him.

  I closed the front door, leaned against it, and slowly slid down to the floor. My mind raced with all the things I wao say. By the time I finally built up the ce to do it, Luke was long gone. Instead, I sat there, alone, wrestling with my thoughts. And I couldn't expin it, but all I wao do was start the entire day over. Fix everything.

  Well… At least I mao fix the punch bowl before my parents came home.