She had so much totellhim. How she’d decided not to go to Caltech. How she’d enrolled at Penn State instead—a solid astrophysics program, but more important, closer to home, to family, to Mel. And how she’d also started training under Sirah khala again, who was thrilled to finally have a willing protégé.
The music shifted. Her gaze drifted across the crowd. Bright smiles, careless laughter. For a moment she remembered Kian’s smile at the Talent Show, and the way helooked at her just before everything had unraveled.
The memory twisted in her chest, sharp and bright, before she tucked it away.
At least some people seemed happy. Across the room, Mel and Andrew spun in clumsy circles, laughing, their hands clasped tight.
Riya smiled despite herself, a quiet warmth blooming behind her ribs.
Mel caught Riya staring and grinned.
Dance with melater?Mel mouthed.
Maybe, Riya mouthed back.
“At least go enjoy yourself at your own Senior Prom,” said a familiar voice.
Quin appeared beside her, smirking as they took the clipboard from Riya’s hands and placed it on a nearby drink table. They were dressed in an emerald velvet tux embroidered with flowers—subtle, yet unmistakablythem.
“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your fan club?” Riya said drily, nodding toward a group of other seniors openly watching Quin from across the room.
Quin waved a hand. “Later, later. I’ve got time.”
They stood there together in comfortable silence, president and vice president, watching the room pulse with light and music.
“So,” Quin said finally, “another victory for Student Council, huh?”
“Our last one,” Riya replied.
Quin arched a brow. “Oh? Do I detect some wistfulness? Dare I saymelancholy?”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“Oof, that’s a big ask.” Quin grinned. “Still. For our final event, you really went out with a bang. We all did. But you especially.” They shook their head as Riya opened her mouth. “No, none of that. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
A small smile tugged at Riya’s lips. This time, she didn’t argue.
Quin cleared their throat.
“I know we’re all going our separate ways soon,” they said, their voice softer now, almost drowned by the music. “But you hadbetterkeep in touch.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Absolutely. If you don’t, I’ll hunt you down at Penn State. Then all your professors will fall madly in love with me and insist that I take your place. And then where will you be?”
Riya laughed. “Fine, fine. Have it your way.”
“Good.” Quin smiled, then looked out at the dancers. “After all, it’s not every day I meet another of the Folk.”
Riya blinked. “Sorry, what—?”
But Quin was already re-entering the crowd of dancers, throwing one last grin over their shoulder.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw him.
Kian stood near the edge of the dance floor, shiftingawkwardly under the tangle of fairy lights. She took him in: the familiar cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. His hair was darker now—black, cut shorter—and his black tux, hanging a little loose on his frame, was speckled with white cat hair. Oppy’s, no doubt.
But it was him.
