I was somewhere else, on the moon maybe, but the light had surely been visible on the other side of the door through the cracks, and anyway I’d literally just made an enormous thumping noise. I steeled myself and went to the door, and cracked it open with several possible remarks going through my head, none of which turned out to be relevant, since it was just Chloe. “Hey,” she said. “I saw the light. I heard you and Orion made it out, I figured I should see how you were doing. Are you okay?”
“I’d say I’m as well as could be expected, but I don’t think anyone had any right expecting me to come out alive, so I suppose I’m actually better,” I said. I took a deep breath, made the effort to let go of the freely flowing mana, and unclasped the power-sharer band and held it out to her.
She hesitated and said tentatively, “You know—if you change your mind about the spot—”
“Thanks,” I said, shortly, without pulling it back, and after a moment she reached out and took it.
I thought that would be it, and I’d have liked it to be. Chloe had clearly just taken a shower and had her damp dark-blond hair back from her face in two thin silver clips; it was in a neat bob that someone had surely cut for her lately, and she was wearing a blue sundress with a twirly skirt and a pair of strappy sandals, the kind of outfit not even an enclaver would risk wearing past the first month of term. It didn’t have a single stain, and it wasn’t even much above the knee; she couldn’t have worn it until this past year or it would’ve been hanging off her.
Meanwhile I was in the more threadbare of my two shirts, which hadn’t been improved by my recent adventures, my dirty, patched combat pants with the thick belt holding them up and the two strips I’ve sewn onto the bottoms to make them longer, and the ragged six-year-old Velcro sandals I’d had to trade for midway through sophomore year when I definitively outgrew the pair I’d come in with. I’d gone for a too-big pair at the time, but by now they were on the last inches. My hair was mostly hanging out of the ragged plait I’d done before going down into the hall. Not to mention I hadn’t showered in the last four days, unless you counted getting drenched to the skin in the corridor purge. And I don’t care about dressing up, I wouldn’t even if I could, but the contrast made me feel even more like I’d recently been dragged backwards through an entire hedge maze.
But Chloe didn’t say a polite goodbye; she just stood there in my doorway turning the power-sharer over in her hands. I was about to excuse myself to go and fall into my bed for twelve hours or so, and she blurted, “El, I’m sorry.” I didn’t say anything, because I wasn’t clear on what she was apologizing for. After a moment she said, “You just—you know, you get used to things. And you don’t think about whether they’re good. Or even okay.” She swallowed. “You don’t want to think about it. And nobody else seems to, either.
“And there’s nothing you can see to do about it.” She looked at me, her whole soft face and clear eyes unhappy. I shrugged a little. “Because there’s not meant to be anything you can do about it.”
She was quiet, and then she said, “I don’t know anything I can do about it. But I don’t have to make it worse. And I—” She was a collection of fidgets suddenly, looking away and licking her lips, uncomfortable. “I lied. In the library. We weren’t…we weren’t really worried that you were a maleficer. We wanted to be worried about that, because we didn’t like you. We’d all been talking about how you’re so awful and rude, how you were trying to use Orion to make everyone suck up to you. Except it’s the total opposite. That day Orion introduced us, I acted like all I needed to have you be my friend was to let you know that I was willing to let you talk to me. Like I’m so special. But I’m not. I’m just lucky. Orion’s special,” she added, with a huff that was trying to be a laugh and didn’t quite manage it. “And he wants to