Off-balance, Dex didn’t immediately respond. Had that beenwanthe’d smelled? Was Cya freaking Vysov—who couldn’t even bring themself to call him their friend—into him?
His belly heated, and pride swelled in his chest, puffing it out a bit. Shoulders back, spine straight, he added a bit of a strut to his next few steps, earning him a judgmental side-eye from the Sypent.
“What are you doing?” they asked.
“Walking,” he said loftily.
“You’ve literally never walked like that before.”
He grinned, showing all his teeth. “Oh, so you’ve noticed how I walk?”
Face wrinkled like they smelled something bad, Cya added an extra inch or so of space between them. “What? No! You’re just… You look constipated, and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
With a pout, Dex stopped strutting.
Snuffling a chuckle, they faced forward again, their fingers tightening on the strap of their computer bag, flexing intermittently. “I was thinking, for next semester, perhaps we could tutor each other? Continue on with maths, of course, but I could help you too, if you like. With your science courses. It would be no trouble.”
His pout immediately turned back into a grin. “Really? You’d do that?”
“Of course. I ought to repay you for all your hard work these past months.”
Shifting closer, he let his arm brush theirs as they walked. “Thanks, Cy, that’s really cool.”
Their cheek lifted the tiniest bit. “Like I said, it’s no trouble.”
“Sure.” He knocked their shoulder with his. “I might just take you up on the offer.”
Cya’s mouth tilted up even more, an almost smile. “Splendid.”
“Better be careful, though,” he rumbled, and their throat bobbed as their eyes finally met his. “If you start being nice, I might start thinking you actually like me.”
Heat flickered briefly in their gaze, but they turned it into a—mostly teasing—sneer. “You wish.”
He grinned.
They scowled.
Dex laughed. “Whatever you say, highness.”
At the campus gates, they slowed to a stop. Hemersyn’s sedan idled to their right. The tram stop stood to their left.
Neither of them moved toward their respective destinations, hovering under the wrought iron arch. The June night was balmy, and Cya wore a flowy purple tunic that revealed their elegant shoulders and the gentle slopes of their upper arms. As always, they were draped in chains and gold cuffs and shiny stones.
Their hair was loose and straight, strands dancing around their face with the breeze, and Dex captured a few of them and cautiously tucked them behind their pointed ear. The skin around their eyes crinkled, and warmth spilled through his chest. Every genuine Cya smile started at their eyes. Evenbefore the smile formed on their lips, he could see it there first, and he liked that he could tell the difference now.
“See you later,” he said, letting his finger brush their earlobe.
Cya swallowed audibly, then dipped their chin. He dropped his hand back to his side and gave them his back, heading toward the tram stop. He’d barely taken three steps before Cya called his name.
“Dex?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “Yeah?”
“I do,” they whispered like they were too scared to say it louder. “Like you, I mean. You’re—well, you’re still annoying, but it doesn’t bother me as much anymore.”
The admission was so very Cya, and it made Dex laugh as he crossed his arms loosely over his chest.
“But I do like you. I should have from the start, but I misjudged you, quite unfairly, I’m afraid.” They shook their head, knuckles bleached around the strap of their computer bag. “I wish things had been different. I wishI’dbeen different. I know I mucked it all up, and I have to live with that. But still, I wish I could have been a better person, a better friend. To you.”
