“Okay,” Inessa says. We clatterdown the stairs, the wood groaning and sighing as we descend. “I just had the best idea.”
“We’re not watching the presentation you made in defense of the most underrated Mario characters,” Sabine says. “Again.”
“Excuse me,” Inessa chides. “You love it.”
“It’s thirty-four slides too long.”
I was supposed to head to wish night with Analiese, but she got caught up chatting withThe Herald’s features editor. When I ran into Sabine and Inessa in the hallway, they insisted I walk with them.
“It’s about Capture.” Inessa lowers her voice. “I’m going to invade Segner right after midnight.”
Sabine gives a delighted gasp. “Why didn’t we think of that earlier?”
It’s a solid plan. Segner House won’t expect another attempt so soon after my last break-in. Plus,everyonegoes to wish night. They won’t have anyone defending their camp.
A palpable boom of excited conversation ricochets down the stairwell as Sabine’s hands fly to her pocket. “I’m updating the group chat.”
We reach the bottom of the stairs. Students maneuver around us like ants trailing around a blockage.
Anticipation thrums through my fingertips. “I can help.”
Inessa spins me toward her. “See, Iknewyou’d want to jump back in.” She grins at Sabine. “Didn’t I say that earlier? Delaney’s a secret badass.”
Am I? It’s strange to be perceived this way. Almost like I’m trying on someone else’s persona. Someone cooler. Braver.
I like Inessa. She’s one of the only senior girls in coding club and 1,000 percent the only member who maintains a regular shower schedule. I don’t know how she puts up with the ripe smell of a dozen unhygienic boys. Nevertheless, she’s been set on MIT since she first stepped foot in Ivernia.
Sabine lowers her phone. “Inessa should go solo. You and I will keep an eye out.” She raises her brows. “If anyone from Segner notices you’ve disappeared, they might get suspicious.”
“Right,” I say, masking my disappointment. “Okay, you know how to enter through the locker room?”
“Girl, since Julian Montfort, sophomore year.” She flashes a cheeky grin. “I’m a pro.”
I glance between them. “So we’re doing this?”
“Hell yeah, we are,” Sabine says.
In a fit of loose energy, Inessa tackle-hugs Sabine and accidentally gets a mouthful of her dark hair. They laugh as they begin to jump up and down, miming silent screams of excitement.Sabine stops to hold the door open, and Inessa links her arm through mine as she skips out, tugging me along. I laugh, caught off guard, and match her enthusiastic prancing.
Tonight, anything feels possible.
Sabine quickly catches up. A muted chill tugs through my hair. I free my arm from Inessa’s to readjust the headband I’d thrown on last-minute.
“I can’t believe this is our last wish night,” Inessa says.
“Don’t start,” Sabine warns.
A pinch of heartache tightens in my chest. I try to ignore it, but it’s persistent, as if daring me to accept the obvious. This is a year measured in things I will lose. Wish nights and quiet lake walks and common room conversations and early morning mist evaporating in the glossy sunlight. Lasagna night with fluffy garlic bread in the dining hall and weekend movie gatherings in the lounge. The hum of the old heater in the library barely audible over clacking keyboards. Traditions, rituals, routines. Everything ends.
I push those feelings aside in favor of conjuring excitement. It’s so easy for me to fall into a silent space of lamenting.
Ahead of us, Luke Stelmak gestures for Inessa, a finger crooking her toward his group of crew guys.
She rolls her eyes. “Let me see what this fool wants.”
As she sashays away, her cream ribbon swishing at the base of her neck as she goes, Sabine turns to me.
“Hey, I hope this isn’t weird,” she says, “but I’m really sorry about your dad. And I know condolences don’t changeanything—I mean, I always felt awkward when people said them after my mom died—but I just wanted you to know I’m here if you ever want to talk.”
