astoriasmilesathisarefulreply,andstartstoexpin.“imean,i’vebeentryingtohelphim.we’veknowneahothersinehildhood,yousee.ourmothersvisitedeahotheralot.narissatoldmewhathappenedtohimin…”here,shefrowns,lookingdownatherhandsspedinfrontofher.withasadlookonherfae,sheturnsbaktoharry.“sheaskedmetohelp,buttely,it’sbeengettingworse,ithink.andian’tbethereforhimallthetime.espeiallyduringsses.”

harryreallsthatastoria’sinsixthyear.

it’smakingsensenow,then,theamountoftimethatsheanddraohavebeenspendingtogether.there’sapartofhimthat’shurt,somehow,thatnarissahadn’taskedhim,whihhedesperatelytriestosquashdown,beauseofoursehewouldn’thavebeenabletohelpevenifnarissahad.eventhoughheanddraoareinthesameyear,theyarestillindifferenthouseswithdifferentssshedules,andit’snotliketheyanverywelleattogetherorspendtimeafterurfewtogether.

andheissupposedtobehappythatdraohasotherpeopletotalktoandwathoverhim.heis.he’salsojustabit…jealous.

they’reinthemiddleofthemeadownow,andtheboathouseanbeseeninthehorizon.cloudslitterthesky,floatinggentlywiththewind.sunlightfiltersthroughgapsbetweenthem,bathingeverythinginamagialsortofglow,likeadream.

helooksatastoria,atherbig,greyeyes,herlongeyeshes,andthewayherhairurlsagainstherhighheekbones.notforthefirsttime,hethinks,wow,she’spretty.

astoriastopsabruptly,turnstohim,andsays,“buthetoldmeaboutwhatyoudidforhim.”

harrysrunheshiseyebrowsinonfusio

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