Jessa’s smile goes from touching to conspiracy-theory in five seconds flat. “So yeah, Kirin… I think it’s safe to say the boy likes you.”
“He’s not a boy, he’s a man.”
“Even better.”
“And he’s just a friend.”
“Mmm-hmm. I think we’re well past the denial stage here, Stevie. Besides, I’ve got a feeling about you and Mr. Cinnamon Buns—I always have. And you know I’m never wrong about these things.”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the stupid grin on my face.
I close the drawer, saving Mom’s book for later, and let out a sigh.
“So here I am,” I say, more to myself then to Jessa. “Magick school.”
“So there you are,” she says. “Magick school.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing. For eighteen years, I followed the map my parents’ set out for me—Tres Búhos, you, Kettle Black. After they died, I just… I just kept following it, you know? Even though I knew something was missing. I guess I thought it was the only way to keep them with me.”
“You’ll always carry them in your heart. But it’s like you said earlier, about stuff blowing up and being good for us even if it sucks in the moment. This whole thing with Luke and prison and the Academy… Well, I think it’s time for you to ditch that old map and start blazing your own trail.”
At her words, a heaviness slides off my shoulders, and something inside me sparks up. It’s a feeling of hope, of newness, of opportunity.
Everything I knew before is gone.
And now, for the first time in twenty-three years, I have an opportunity to find out what else is out there for me.
“Hey, I want you to promise me something,” Jessa says. “Promise me you’ll make the most of your time there, okay. I’m not talking about learning magick—that goes without saying. I’m talking about people.”
“What do you mean?”
“No one knows you at the Academy—not even Kirin. You get to start all over. So do that. Jump in, and don’t hold yourself back anymore. You’re in a magickal place, surrounded by hundreds of witches and mages, by people whogetyou—but only if you let them.”
“Hmm. I think all this Oprah talk is just code for you telling me to hook up with Kirin so I can recount all the dirty details later.”
“Well,obviously. Wait,aretheir dirty details? Already? You’re holding out on me, Milan?”
“Never,” I say with a wink.
“Seriously, though,” she says, her copper eyes serious once again. “I want you to find love. Friendship kind of love. Connection. Even if it’s with just one other person. You deserve that, Stevie. So I’m asking you to promise me you’ll put yourself out there. Take risks. Open your heart and give people a chance to know how fucking awesome you are.”
Oh, goddess, the whole idea of it is terrifying. Opening my heart, trusting people… Looking out across the Towers, now dark purple fingers stretching into the night, I can’t help but think of the Void. The inescapable compulsion to jump, the disastrous ending.
The idea of love and friendship feels a lot like that.
“Hey,” she says at my silence. “You’ve got this,loca. You know that, right?”
My stomach ties itself into a pretzel. “Maybe you shouldn’t have so much faith in me.”
“Maybeyoushouldn’t have so little. Look, making friends is going to be so easy for you. You’re amazing at reading people, you make a mean-ass cup of tea, and you’re hilarious and fun, to name a few. Oh, and let’s not forget your best selling point.”
I try for an epic sigh, but my best friend is the reigning queen of pep talks, and a smile is already breaking through my scowl.
“Hmm.” I hold the phone out and show her my backside. “Youmustbe talking about my great ass.”
“I’mtalking,”she says, rolling her eyes, “about the fact that your so damn brilliant and lovable you could charm the pants off pants, let alone a bunch of college kids and stuffy old professors. Now stop freaking out, trust in your awesomeness, and show me some of that Stevie Milan sparkle, because for the first time in your life, you’re in a place where you don’t legally have to hide it. Flaunt that shit, girl!”
Caught up in her endless cheer, I slap a high-five and a fist bump against the phone, then I snap, calling up a burst of silver fire. The flames dance in my palm for just a moment before I purse my lips and blow, scattering sparks like dandelion seeds.
