There it was:?Andrew?, which Mel had adorned with sparkle emojis.
“It all worked out in the end. Just like everything else will.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Riya said softly.
As they finished lunch, Mel debated aloud what she’d text Andrew tonight when she got home (Do I send a selfie?Can you think of a good joke, maybe?).
But Riya’s mind had already drifted back to Kian. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d flinched when Quin joked about their lack of any relationship.
He’d looked at her like he was waiting for her to deny it. She hadn’t.
Please don’t look at me like everyone else.
She owed Kian an apology. It didn’t sit right with her that she’d scolded him like that. She’d even let him believe they were nothing. That without the curse, there was nothing.
And yet, the unfamiliarity of that truth—the possibility that there might be something—unsettled her. Like stepping into murky water, unsure where the ground might give.
Still. She found herself wanting to try. To meet him halfway.
That was the strangest part.
Chapter 24
Riya had paused mid-edit on her Caltech essay when the doorbell rang.
She didn’t move at first. Her laptop glowed in front of her, the cursor blinking inside an unfinished sentence:
Tell us about a time you faced a challenge and what it taught you.
She’d written three versions already. Deleted them all for reading too much like an entry inEncyclopedia Britannica.
“Someone get the doooor,” Amara yelled from the family room. The last time Riya had checked, Amara was kneeling on the floor, setting up another board game for family game night—some overly complicated game that would probably take another thirty minutes just to learn how to play.
No one replied, even as the doorbell rang again.
Riya sighed and got up from her desk, trudged down the stairs, and opened the front door.
It was Kian, clutching a lopsided bouquet of wilted purple flowers.
“Hi,” he said nervously, leaning against the doorway.
She almost didn’t recognize him; he wasn’t wearing hisbeanie today, instead letting his messy, dyed-blond hair run wild, almost covering his eyes. It was chilly, and he wore a scuffed brown leather jacket, his silver piercings glinting beneath the sidelights.
“These are for you.” Kian carefully pushed the flowers in her direction.
“You didn’t rip these out from the school flower bed, did you?”
“Oh. No. You told me not to do that anymore, so I bought these.”
Riya stared at him for a beat before taking them. He’d actually remembered.
Then: “How did you know where I live?”
“I asked Mel.” Kian smiled sheepishly. “I could have found it myself, but—would that be weird? Asking was probably weird, too. I don’t know. I just—” He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to see you.”
Of courseMel told him. Riya could already imagine the justification:You’ve been spiraling, and Kian clearly wanted to talk—what was I supposed to do? Let you both suffer in silence, like some kind of evil person would?
“But if this is too much—if you don’t like it—you can tell me to leave. Seriously. Just say the word and I’m—”
