I hadn’t done a lot of dating in Overworld.
It hadn’t really been a conscious choice. I’d always been busy between school and Archie, and the vast majority of boys I met in school didn’t interest me. I’d snogged a few Overworlders in dark dance clubs in Southampton, most of them older. I don’t know if it had beenrebellionexactly, or just some feeble attempt to haveanykind of dating life when both things felt pretty much impossible for me back then.
I’d even slept with a few, but only in cars and back rooms. I had to be home before dawn, either to get Archie up and dressed and fed and off to school, or just to be there when he woke. Bringing someone back to Ankha’s house, or spending the night elsewhere, with someone I’d only just met in one of those clubs, was never even remotely an option.
My encounters never went anywhere for the same reason, despite occasional efforts to get my phone number, and a few offers of dinner or a movie. I’d never had much interest in dating someone I didn’t know enough to truly fancy, whether I’d shagged them or not, and I’d never met anyone worth the amount of effort it would have taken to know them that well.
How could I have?
There was always Archie, and school.
But now Icouldconceivably do it, even with school.
And maybe that’s how these things always started, a little lukewarm until you got to know the person? Maybe I needed to make an effort to even get to the point where I mightwantto date someone?
Either way, I’d definitely need new clothes.
Which meant dragging Jolie and/or Miranda out shopping with me. Which also meant I’d have to tell them I’d asked Graham Strangemore on a date.
Two dates, really.
Miranda would be positively insufferable about it. She’d been urging me to stop overthinking it and simply “jump that hot mage jock” for the past two months. She thought it absolutely ridiculous I hadn’t taken the opportunity to fuck a popular, attractive guy for no reason other than it would be fun.
“What should we wear?” Graham asked, as if seeing the uncertainty on my face. “To the Myst?ria bash, I mean. Do you want to try pairing costumes? Or should we just wing it, go with whatever we find that we like?”
I laughed at that, I couldn’t help it. “I’ll be honest, I have no idea what the holiday is even about. I was just thinking about bribing my friends with coffee and cake to get them to go shopping with me, so I wouldn’t make a complete arse out of myself.”
He smiled, and I saw something in his eyes relax.
“It’s in honor of Persephone rising from the Underworld,” he explained. “But don’t worry about that for costumes. You can wear anything you want. There’s nothing religious about how it’s actually celebrated, although you’ll see lots of gods, angels, demons, and so on.”
I thought about that.
“Okay,” I said. “Then, unless you have strong feelings about it, I vote we just wing it. I likely won’t know what I want to wear until I’m actually looking at it. And I’m liable to mess up any attempt to match. I won’t get Magical pop culture references, I promise.”
He chuckled, his smile widening. “While I very much doubt that, given who your friends are, winging it works fine for me.Should we surprise one another? Not share ideas until we see whatever the other’s come up with?”
I quirked an eyebrow. “You can’t be offended if I just give you a blank stare and make dumb guesses as to what you’re supposed to be.”
He laughed louder, and a few people looked over. Graham touched my arm. He withdrew his hand quickly, but never stopped smiling.
“I’ll explain, if you don’t get it,” he promised. “I’ll explain all of them, if you like, the ones I know, anyway. We can have our own running commentary on every costume in Worm Hall. I’ll even rank them according to historical accuracy and style.”
I felt myself relaxing with him.
“I’ll take you up on that,” I warned him. “And incidentally, you’ll have my friends to thank for mine. They’ll make sure I’m vaguely presentable, at least.”
He grinned and touched my arm again.
That time, he let his hand linger longer.
When he walked away a few seconds later, I let out a relieved breath. That hadn’t gone too badly. He’d been funny about it, self-depreciating, and definitely not a prat. And, whether there were sparks there or not, maybe it was good I’d ripped the plaster off, whatever my faulty reasoning for asking him out in the first place.
It was just a date. I should occasionally do normal university things, like date.
As I thought it, still smiling, I happened to glance at the other side of the room.
Caelum Bones stood there.
