Fifer glanced at him, then turned back to watch Florence and Talon looking deeply in love with each other. “I’m smiling about my own awesomeness,” Fifer said confidently, though she struggled to feel it.

“Oh, great,” Seth said, and rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.” He looked around the lawn and spotted Ibrahim and Clementi. They were both gifted dancers and had studied for the past year with Ms. Morning and Samheed, learning ballet as well as a variety of other styles of dance for theater so far. They were really shaking things up and laughing and enjoying the party. And they weren’t afraid to touch each other, Seth thought wryly. Of course, they were fourteen now, like him.

“See ya.” Seth turned sharply away from Fifer and made his way through the crowd toward Ibrahim and Clementi, leaving Fifer standing alone. The smile faded quickly from her face.

Bittersweet

The night grew late before Henry and Thatcher finished patching up the remaining injured and joined the extravaganza. Many Artiméans had turned in by then, but several couples remained, and the band music turned romantic.

Horribly so, as far as Fifer was concerned. She didn’t understand what was so great about being all lovey-dovey like Aaron and Kaylee. And Thatcher and Henry, and Florence and Talon, and the other couples who were all sweaty and hanging on each other. Whenever Fifer got sweaty, she didn’t like anybody touching her. That just made her more uncomfortable.

She watched Seth dance with Ibrahim and Clementi—or at least he tried to dance, but he wasn’t an actual dance student like Fifer and them, so he wasn’t very good. Despite that, he seemed to be really enjoying himself, and Fifer knew deep down that that was what really mattered. She frowned. Seth didn’t seem like he was planning to return. Maybe she should go over there. She looked around, feeling lost and lonely and tired of her crown falling off on what was supposed to be a very special night. It hadn’t gone anything like she’d planned, and it was hard to come to terms with the disappointment when every time she turned around, somebody with a bandaged head was nearby, reminding her that their injury was her fault.

Thisbe and Sky had grown tired of dancing, and Daniel had fallen asleep, so the three of them rested on the lawn to watch the others. They weren’t laughing now. Instead, with heads bowed together, Thisbe and Sky talked quietly about missing Alex, and about Rohan and Maiven Taveer, and they cried a little too.

“Every time I think I’m getting used to Alex being gone forever,” Sky said, “something happens to remind me of him. It’s like I experience that awful realization of his death all over again. Remember it?”

Thisbe nodded. “It was awful.” Stumbling across Alex’s grave had been a horrible way to discover it.