But surely, going with a friend isn’t the same as showing up alone. Accepting a guy’s invitation alone is an opening. A bit like a date. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that kind of girl. But turning up with Lily is innocent. Besides, Keller was just being nice to extend the invite. He saw I was new, friendless, and took pity on me, that’s all.

I make myself ignore the look I caught as I entered the library. The intense, steely stare, without a smile, without a word.

Lily gasps out loud. "Seriously?” She’s almost screaming. “Dude, three days here and you got a house card from the fucking wyverns? That's insane. I didn’t get one in a freaking year!”

I flush. “Oh. I didn’t know. I mean, Keller just said it was his cousin’s house…” I trail off.

“Keller?” she repeats, her voice an octave higher. “You got invited by Keller? Wait, which one?”

I remember him saying there were two other Kellers.

“Darius,” I say.

This only makes Lily stare at me wordlessly.

“I didn’t realize it was a big deal?” I’m a little embarrassed somehow.

“Fuck. Okay, let me explain. I forgot you’re new.” She abandons her clothes and sits on her bed, so I do the same, hopping onto mine. “I said only about ten percent of Rothford is local, right? Well, most of them have been admitted, not because of a pristine transcript like you and I, but because their parents, and grandparents, and great-grandparents studied here. Local rich families founded the school for their kids, and still sit on the board. The legacies are a shoo-in.”

I roll my eyes, nose wrinkled in distaste. “Isn’t that the same everywhere?”

“True. Well, as you can imagine, the spawns of the Archers, and Hunts, and Montgomerys, and Goltzes, and yes, Kellers, certainly aren’t about to share communal dorms with the rabble. So, instead, they built fancy houses on their private lane. What you have here,” she tells me, eyeing the cards on my lap, “are invites to the wyverns, one of the fanciest houses. When you said Keller, I assumed you meant the wyvern cousin. He’s a bit of a wildcard. He plays hockey, actually—badly, from what I’ve seen—and is sort of approachable. Then, there’s Sebastian Keller, who was the head of the Vesper House last year. He passed the bar, and has started working for a big firm in town, but he was pretty chill. Almost human.” She chuckles. “Darius Keller? That guy’s a god, and he knows it. He never hangs out with us mortals. I haven’t seen him at any party, concert, or club in southie. He stays with other legacies.”

I can’t deny that was exactly my initial impression of the man. Like he didn’t exist on the same plane as me.