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With a new bounce in my footsteps, I stopped at the edge of the crowd forming around the fountain in the center of campus and looked up. It was only at the sight of that golden domed building looming over us all that my smile slipped.

The Testing Center.

Time for the First Quarterly Test.

We found Rodhi and Gileon just as Wren came pushing through the crowd after finishing her fourth-year tests. Since upperclassmen always went first, it was the earliest we’d ever seen her emerge—and the earliest we’d ever go in.

“Well?” Rodhi asked, hands in his pockets. “Should I ask how it went, or should I take all that mucus as a sign that I should shut up?”

Indeed, Wren was covered head to toe in a thick, slimy substance that made her hair and skin glisten in the silvery sunlight pooling in the courtyard.

“Definitely the second option.” Wren grabbed a fistful of mucus from her shirt and flung it to the ground. “Let’s just say that fucking snails aren’t as innocent as they’d lead you to believe.”

“On the bright side, they’re great for skincare,” said Rodhi. “You’re about to have the most radiant, sparkling complexion of your—”

Gileon coughed and nudged him with his elbow. “Um, I don’t think you’re choosing the second option.”

“Right.” Rodhi grinned sheepishly. “Oh, look! Doors just opened. Let’s go.”

He surged forward, and Gileon lumbered after him without a backward glance. Something about the narrowing of Wren’s gaze made me hang back, though.

“Everything okay?” I asked her. Emelle loitered ahead, glancing at us over her shoulder. Wren kept her attention trained on the guys’ back as they made their way to the front doors alongside every other third-year.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

When her pause dwindled back into silence, I asked, “Do you have… feelings for him?”

I wasn’t even sure if I was referring to Rodhi or Gileon. She fought with Rodhi constantly, yes, and he was in love with Ms. Pincette, but feelings could twist into something imperceptible sometimes. And she and Gil had always shared a special bond.

But Wren gave me a double take with a shocked laugh.

“Feelings? Oh, no. At least not like how Melle does for Lander or you do for… you know.” Coen. “I’m not really attracted to men in that way.”

“Oh.” I blinked at the new information. “Women, then?”

“No. Not women, either. I’ve never understood the appeal of physical… anything. It’s like I was just born without the same weird urge you all have.” A faint blush had touched Wren’s cheeks where I hadn’t seen it before. Not because she was finally revealing a crush, as I’d always expected would someday happen, but because she was sharing an intimate part of herself she’d probably never spoken aloud before. Knowing that she wouldn’t want me to make a big deal out of it, I nodded.

“That makes sense.”

“It does?” Now it was her turn to blink.

“Yeah. Love is too big of a thing to look or feel the same for everyone.” I glanced at the Testing Center again, noting how the crowd had dwindled as the last trickles of third-years made their way in. Emelle and I only had a few more seconds before we’d have to join them, but I sensed something else on Wren’s mind.

Noting the same thing as me, Wren quickened her words. “Look, I feel love for Gileon in my own way, and I’m telling you, there’s something different about him lately. Something that worries me, but I don’t know why.”

Emelle joined in. “Mrs. Smetlar did crush his rhinoceros beetle right in front of his eyes. I think he’s been trying to hide how much that hurt him.”

“Yeah,” Wren mused. “I wasn’t fond of that damn thing, but Mrs. Smetlar might be the shittiest person alive for doing that to him. I wanted to crumple my paper and throw it in her face today during our History test.”

The other unspoken complication hovered in the air between all three of us: was Coen’s assignment too much for Gileon? Had I burdened one of my grieving friends by including him in something he couldn’t handle?

“Come on.” Emelle grabbed my hand. “We’ve got to go.” To Wren, she said, “We’ll look after him in there. I promise.”

Wren nodded, relief softening her face. “Okay. Thank you.”

Emelle and I hurried into the Testing Center, the last third-years to do so. Our feet clacking against the polished checkered floor of the lobby, we aimed for the archway with the semi-circle plaque that read BY THE ORCHID AND THE OWL when a familiar, would-be cheery voice stopped me in my tracks.

“Ahhh, Ms. Drey! There you are!”