Page 50 of The Amber Sunburst

At the first touch of bow to strings, she inhales in awe. Somehow she always forgets how arresting Zeno’s performances are. The way his eyes close when he gets into more passionate parts of the song. The way his fingers dance along the strings like they were made only for that. The way he sways ever so slightly with the music like he can’t help but let it creep into every inch of his body.

There is nothing particularly special about the pieces he plays. If anyone else were playing them, she would probably be bored.

But the way he does it? He engages her soul when he plays. Draws her in and whisks her away to every corner of the earth: fireflies across a dark pond, ocean waves breaking on a desolate shore, flowers blooming in cracks between cobblestone.

Everything lovely she has ever seen.

Everything lovely she has never seen.

When he stops playing, she can hardly believe that he’s made it through three whole songs. Hasn’t it just been a moment?

She, Arete, and Ophelia applaud thunderously, and Zeno gives them the sheepish look she always sees after his performances. Like he doesn’t know that people would sit for years listening to him and barely feel as if a day has gone by.

“Zeno. You are so good. I mean, Forms, I will be demanding concerts every day from now on for the rest of my life,” Ophelia gushes.

“I’m not all that, but thank you,” Zeno says with a little blush. “And I will always give concerts to those who request them. But only if those people are Arete.” He winks at her and pats her on the head. “Goodnight, you little satyr.”

“Goodnight, you big stupid.”

Zeno gasps in faux-offense and starts for the door, Eudoxia following behind.

She closes it behind them and leans on the wall next to her room. “Thank you. That was really—” Arresting. Mesmerizing. Addictive. “—great.”

“Only for you guys.”

“No, seriously,” she insists. “You don’t just play, you… it’s a whole experience, watching you. Like something I could do until forever has ended and nothing is left but your hands and your smile. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Did she just say that? Oh, Forms. Why did she say that?

She’s very tired. And drunk on the music. And that came out a lot more affectionate than it probably should have. For a friend. Which is what she is.

Zeno stares at her with eyes like moons and before she knows it she’s in a tight hug, her body immediately reciprocating, attuned to every move Zeno makes. He’s over a foot taller than her but somehow they melt together perfectly.

Holding him isn’t exciting in a way that makes her heart race. It’s grounded. It’s right.

“When forever has ended, I’ll be damned if I’m not holding you,” Zeno says, tightening his grip. Then he jolts and he pulls back. “Because we’re friends. Be—Best friends.”

She sighs as reality sets back in. “Best friends,” she replies.

Zeno smiles, her greatest weakness.

“Best friends.”

12

ALEXANDER

Alexander is not usually a stalker—actually, he is not ever a stalker—but needs must.

Every night for the past week, Kallias has snuck out of the dorms. Alexander first noticed it while walking out of the restroom around eleven at night. It was late enough that most people were studying in their rooms, but a flash of gold up the stairway showed him that not everyone was getting ready for bed.

He didn’t find it particularly suspicious, even with his hyper focus on Kallias since the Nickel Incident two weeks before; Kallias is known to have hickeys on his neck almost all of the time, and Alexander figured that was where he was going.

Then, two days later, he saw it again. The exact same time, eleven o’clock.

The next day, again.

He waited in the dining hall the day after that because if Kallias went through there it meant he was going somewhere out of the dorm. That would eliminate a regular hookup as a possibility.