“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs carelessly. “Everything’s a joke to you, Rupa. You never take anything seriously.” And then he jerks hishead toward the front of the line. “You’re next.”
I collect the two slices of pizza that Ms.Mehta hands me, caught off guard by his sharp words. He’s been moodier than usual lately, but there’s an edge to his tone—like he’s genuinely upset with me.
I hesitate. I want to... I don’t know, apologize? Explain myself? Tell him Idotake things seriously.
But Krish chooses that moment to show up. Sagar turns to his friend, and I shake myself out of the moment. I don’t have anything to prove to him—or anyone else at school.
And besides, I have more important things happening today. So I walk away without a glance behind.
ONE YEAR AGO
He was waiting for me on the roof this time. I slowed down as I walked toward where he was sitting on a blanket.
“What’s this?”
He turned around and patted the ground next to him. “I thought we’d do some stargazing,” he said. There was another bag of cookies from Risky Biscuits beside him.
I laughed. “Stargazing? Is that something you’re particularly passionate about?”
His eyes glinted with amusement. “There’s not a lot one can do in the night when we turn into, well, this.” He gestured between the two of us.
I sat, dropping my purse on the ground behind me. Itwas a year since I’d last seen him, but he looked exactly as I remembered, his eyes bright under the pale moonlight. It seemed almost unfair to call him ademon. Demons made me think of something evil and horrific. There was a strange, otherworldly sort of beauty to his features. And... to mine.
I didn’t know when I’d stopped looking at myself in the mirror and seeing only parts of being an asura I hated, but lately I’d started feeling more comfortable in my asura form. More confident. And I knew it was because of him. Because of how I looked at him.
Because of how he looked at me.
“So tell me about these stars,” I prompted, tilting my chin up. I couldn’t see much beyond a few specks in the night sky.
“I didn’t take into consideration that we’re in the middle of the Bay Area and there’s a ton of light pollution,” he admitted. “I usually only do this when we go camping.”
“Do you go camping a lot?”
“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “It’s one of the few things my family and I enjoy doing together.”
“I’ve only been once. It was a lot of hiking. And a lot of bugs.” I grimaced. I hadn’t hated it, but I didn’t exactly feel any need to repeat the experience.
“So... not your thing,” he said. “Noted.”
He turned to face me, and I realized just how close we were. I felt a pang of regret that I didn’t know who he really was. That I only got a few hours with him once a year. And next year would be our last. We’d both be graduating, andthe thought that I’d never see him again made me physically ache.
“I need to know who you are,” I said before I could talk myself out of it. It came out more desperate than I intended, but I didn’t care.
He didn’t look surprised. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said, almost like that wasn’t the first time he’d considered it either.
“I don’t care,” I said, reaching for his hand on the ground between us. I half expected him to move away, but he didn’t. He let me turn his palm over and entwine our fingers. “You said you hated the secrecy.”
“That’s different.” His eyes were trained on our joined hands.
“It’s not,” I said.
He looked back up at me. “You really want to do this?”
“Yes,” I said at once. “More than anything.”
Our gazes remained locked for what felt like ages—and then he closed his eyes, almost in defeat. “Next year,” he said hoarsely. “Midnight. Before we transform.”
