It was finally that first glorious weekend on campus. Solene could sit outside, as she was doing now, in the gardens with her friends and she could pretend it was still summer for a few lazy moments. Nearly the entire school had the same idea from what she could see.

  "Don't look, but my cousin's also out here studying, a behind the apple tree with all the hearts and initials carved in," Carmen giggled.

  "Solene!" Tamara hit her arm playfully. "You should go talk to him!"

  Solene raised an eyebrow but did not look away from her assigned reading for Professor Whitethorn's Monday class. "What's there to talk about?"

  Carmen and Tamara exchanged a look.

  "Come on, we know you like him." Tamara tilted her head. "Even Willa can tell, can't you, Willa?"

  "What?" Willa blinked confusedly as she looked up from one of her fantasy books.

  "Never mind, Willa, you can be just as oblivious about this stuff." Tamara waved a hand dismissively. "My point is, you two keep staring at each other, it's plain to see!"

  "So what?" Solene tried to shrug nonchalantly, but ended up hunching her shoulders in the same way a cat might raise their hackles.

  "Look," Carmen sighed. "Dorian's shy. He's never going to make the first move. He always was the kind of kid who hung around the walls and corners whenever he came to the mansion downtown."

  "Which does mean that he's perfect for you," Tamara interjected. "But—"

  "But you have to talk to him first," Carmen finished. "I promise, he might be a werewolf but he doesn't bite."

  "Have you ever considered that like most boys, he just might not be interested?"

  This was apparently not a viable suggestion.

  Tamara smacked her forehead and Carmen winced.

  "I swear to all the gods there ever were—"

  "Fine." Solene abruptly closed her textbook and stood up. "If I go talk to him, will you both shut up about a crush?"

  "Absolutely." Carmen smiled. It was a politician's smile, as was the way of the Beltanes, Solene supposed. It would have to do for now, although she suspected that sooner rather than later, they would find a way to meddle once more with the ridiculous idea.

  "Alright then." Solene scooped up her bag. "I'll see you later, then."

  With that, she began her march across the gardens, winding through the labyrinth of rose-covered shrubs to backtrack to where Dorian sat beneath the apple tree. The whole time, her heartbeat thundered in her ears, every nerve telling her to walk it back, to let this go.

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  But she wouldn't give into her fears.

  After all, she knew how this would end, didn't she?

  He'd say no or be clearly put off by her, proving her right—that he didn't like her.

  Why did the thought leave the acidic bitterness of lemon on her tongue?

  Before she knew it, she was in front of him and he was looking at her with those eyes that seemed to see through all her walls.

  He smiled, his freckled cheeks morphing as red as roses. "Oh, hi Solene."

  "Hello." She realized she was too quiet. "Mind if I sit with you?"

  "Oh, sure." He moved a little, to give her some space.

  Solene bit her lip—this wasn't going the way she expected at all. Her hands began to shake and she was grateful for the curtain that her hair provided to her face as she looked down at the ground. Still, she lowered herself beside him, all-too-aware of how close he was. It was like the radiance of the sun.

  Dorian glanced over her shoulder as she began to unpack her things—she might as well commit, after all.

  "Aren't your friends back there?" He pointed with his pen, and she followed its arc to where she could see the little coven sitting across the garden. They were watching Solene and Dorian with very little pretense of even pretending to study.

  "Oh, yeah." Solene tried to will her face to cool, but it wasn't working. No chance of using a spell here, not while he was watching her. "They were talking too much, and I've got this reading to get done before Monday."

  "Ah." He nodded. "I won't bother you, then."

  As he looked back to his own book, Solene felt a little relief—but there was something else mixed in there too.

  Disappointment?

  She tried to look back at her book, but suddenly she couldn't read the words.

  "Are you okay?"

  She blinked and turned her head—Dorian was watching her again. This time, with his head tilted, eyebrows turned upwards in concern.

  "I'm fine, sorry." She knew her face had to look red, she had to be making a fool of herself.

  "It's really hot out, actually—" he paused, tilting his head the other way. "I could try something to cool down—if you'd like?"

  "Sure." She tucked a strand behind her ear.

  "Hang on a sec. . ." Dorian closed his eyes and drew his wand from his backpack. He mouthed something voicelessly, and nodded. He then waved his wand and that was when Solene felt it.

  The cold kiss of snow, the taste of vanilla.

  She'd only ever seen it during magical displays like this. They were popular during the winter, a reminder of what once was. But snow rarely ever fell since the end of the Long Winter. And even rarer still. Solene had never seen a natural snowfall, although Luna and her father once recalled one to her. But they were small children then.

  Solene could not help but stretch her arms out, to see the white flakes drop, to feel the cold. She could not help but smile at it.

  She turned to look at Dorian—he was smiling too. But he smiled with that strange sort of awe reserved for miracles of nature, like the sunset and a magnificent storm. Or perhaps, natural-falling snow.

  Her heart began to beat fast again. There it was, that feeling on the beach, when she'd first saw him.

  She could pick up and run, she could stay away from him and avoid the fluttering in her stomach, the way he made her feel.

  But in spite of herself, she stayed.

  Her smile had fallen, though—and now Dorian looked uncertain.

  "I hope that was okay, I—I don't want to do it too much." He glanced away.

  "Oh, no, it was wonderful," she assured him. "I just. . . I wish it snowed more. But it helped—really!"

  He was looking down at his books now, and she wondered if maybe she had offended him or scared him off somehow.

  She looked down to her own book. At least the words were beginning to make sense again.

  She spared him one more look. "Thank you."

  He met her gaze and visibly relaxed. "Any time."