Lyra claps her hands. “Yes! A romantic weekend getaway!”
“It’s not aromanticgetaway,” I protest weakly, my cheeks tingling with heat. “It’s just... a school trip. To pick something up for Professor Silvermoon.”
Lyra’s expression turns more serious. She pops a hip and levels a look at me. “You like him, right?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“And he clearly likes you. So stop worrying so much. Just ask him. The worst he can say is no.”
That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
Still, I force myself to nod. “You’re right. I know. I’ll ask him.”
“When?” Maeve asks.
“I...” I glance toward the window, noting the angle of the late-afternoon sun. “I could try to find him now. Before dinner.”
“Do it,” Lyra urges. “Before you talk yourself out of it. Because you know you will.”
She’s right. If I wait too long, I’ll spend the entire evening convincing myself it’s a terrible idea.
“He’s usually on the runeball field at this time of day,” Maeve offers. “Practice runs until just before dinner.”
The runeball field. Which means he’ll be all sweaty and glisteny.
My stomach flips. It’s been doing that a lot since Aric first knocked on our dorm room door.
I stand on shaky legs and smooth my skirt down over my dark tights. “Okay. I’m going to find him.” My feet feel heavier than lead as I move to the entryway and pull my loafers back on.
“Good luck!” Alina calls as I clasp my cloak and reach for the door handle.
Maeve gives me a thumbs-up, and Lyra blows me a kiss.
I slip out into the hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs. As I descend the spiral staircase, each step harder than the one before it, I try to rehearse what I’ll say.
Hi, Aric. I know this is sudden, but would you want to come to Faunwood with me this weekend? Professor Silvermoon needs me to pick something up, and I’d really like the company. Your company, specifically.
I almost cringe. No, that sounds too desperate.
Hey, Aric. Want to go on a trip with me this weekend?
Too casual.
I’m still trying to figure out the right words as I make my way across campus toward the runeball field, the crisp breeze ruffling my skirt and cloak. The golden sun casts long shadows across the grounds, and I can hear the distant sounds of practice—shouts, the whisper of the arcane sphere as it flies through the air, the occasional burst of laughter.
I could still turn around, tell them I couldn’t find him.
No, they’d see through that, and Maeve would probably march me right back out here.
There’s no escaping this.
When I round the corner of the athletics building, the runeball field comes into view.
And so does Aric.
Chapter 22
Aric
