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“We need to think about what we’re wearing,” Ever says, and Eli nods in agreement.

Discomfort swims in my gut. I have no cute outfits for this type of event. I have a little bit of money saved from working, but I don’t want to waste it all on a dress. “I think I might pass on the party.”

“No, you’re coming.” Ever glances at Bree and Eli. “She’s coming, right?”

The softest brush against my mind has me glaring at Bree. “Don’t mindcraft me, you little witch!”

She gives me a guilty smile. “Sorry, but if it’s clothes you’re worried about, we have plenty of time to find a dress.”

We? Is this a group effort now?

“Please, Raina,” Ever joins in. “The party won’t be any fun without you.”

“It’s still four weeks away,” I tell her. “You all could make a new bestie by that time and take them.”

“Uh, absolutely not,” Eli counters. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll tarnish your reputation?” I ask, unable to help myself. They’ve all made progress with their affinities, and mine are still nowhere to be found. The more time that goes by with no sign of magic, the more I find people watching me in Practical Casting. People are saying the Goddess stripped me of my powers during the order assignment. Others are speculating that I’m keeping my power hidden, for what reason, I don’t know, but sometimes rumors don’t make sense.

Ever scoffs. “No. You’re our friend. Who gives a shit what other people say?”

I don’t necessarily care what people say about me, but I care about what it means for my friends. I don’t want to fuck up their time here at Diremount.

“So you’ll come?” Bree asks, blinking wide, pleading eyes at me. Ever and Eli imitate her until I’m surrounded by beggars.

How can I say no now? “Yeah, I’ll come.”

Mr. Peters can eat shit. It’s nice to have friends.

Fundamentals of Affinities is in a building on the far south side of campus, nearly at the foot of the mountains. Its stone is more worn than the rest of the university’s, like it was here before the other structures. The walls are made of dark quartzitic sandstone with casement windows deeply recessed within the thick embrasures, the wavy antique glass panes catching the late morning light. Vines crawl up one side of the building, the leaves a fiery red now that fall has arrived, and the entire building is surrounded by once flowering plants that have started to go into hibernation already.

“I’m so ready for cold weather,” Bree says with a sigh as we head through the entrance.

Eli shakes his head. “Not me, I love summer.”

“I actually prefer fall. What about you, Raina?” Ever asks.

“I like it when it rains,” I say with a shrug. “So I guess spring is my favorite season?”

“You guess?” Bree gives me a look. “Okay, how about this? When you were a kid, I’m talking like five or six, which were you most excited about?”

“Does anyone remember what they liked at that age?” I ask, adjusting the strap of my backpack and leading our group into the classroom. It’s smaller than some of the others, but still has enough seats that they’re divided into two sections. I head up the stairs in the middle of them.

“I remember a lot,” Bree says a little quieter now that we’re in a room full of other students. “Like the first time I met Eli in Kindergarten.”

“I beat up her first bully,” Eli supplies. “Bobby Rickson. Total dick.”

“He so was,” Bree agrees. “Oh, I also remember my mom reading books to me. I remember going out and building snowmen and igloos.”

“I remember some stuff too.” Ever pulls out her laptop, gaze distant. “We used to shift into our wolves when we were little and play in the big leaf piles. Pumpkin pie was always my favorite, but the fresh kind, not the stuff from the can.”

My backpack is suddenly very interesting. They all have memories from those younger years, and I have . . . none. My heart beats heavy in my chest, and I clear my throat, opening my laptop. It’s nice I have Fundamentals of Affinities at the same time as my friends, but this conversation makes my skin itch.

Eli and Bree are chatting about when they were kids, arguing about some boy they both liked, but Ever catches my gaze.

Are you okay? the look seems to say.

I nod and try for a smile, but the action is so foreign I’m sure it looks more like a grimace than anything. Luckily, the professor strides in, and I sink a little lower in my seat. Professor Girdle’s skin is always a little red, and his hair is as stringy and oily as it was the day he suggested Tweed hand me over to the Paranormal Guard. To say he’s my least favorite professor is an understatement.