“No chance. Look at you!” She turns me to face the mirror.

A glittery silver stripe runs down the center of my face and is smeared across my right cheek, and my long, pale-blue hair is braided with ribbons, but no matter how hard I squint, Ella stares back at me. I look too much like me. Closing my eyes, I breathe Betsy into me—picturing how I’ll affect her mannerisms, her slight limp, her frailty. I will draw on every ounce of acting ability my mother drilled into me. It’s all I can do. Opening my eyes, I wipe my damp hands on the skirt of my silky dress.

“Thank you for helping me,” I say. “You did a great job. Hopefully I blend in.”

“You’re a total Betsy. Don’t worry. I can’t wait to see what Garrett thinks.” Rayelle grins.

“I can.” Frowning, I lower my voice, grabbing her arm. “Hey—what was that with Kyran last night? I’ve been dying to talk to you. The bedroom thing. Have you lost your mind?”

“I know.” She groans. “He never talks, so I feel like I have to talk for both of us, but he makes me so nervous that randomness comes out of my mouth. I can’t control it.”

“I can relate to the word vomit, though Garrett doesn’t make me nervous, just irritated.”

“Boys.” She sighs. “It’s probably for the best I’ll never see Kyran again after he gets initiated. I’m sure he’ll forget all about me—not that I want him to”—she pauses, adding to herself—“actually, it would be okay if he forgot the babbling…”

A pang slices through my chest at the thought that this could be it for Garrett and me, too. “You’ll see him again.” I squeeze her arm. “Garrett says partners have an unbreakable bond.”

Rayelle smirks. “Maybe you two do, but Kyran’s different. I keep thinking I need to tell him how I feel before he disappears on me—you know, just in case there’s a chance.”

“Rayelle. I’m pretty sure he knows.”

“You think so?” She presses her hand to her rosy cheek.

“Yes.” I laugh. “Without a doubt.”

“Do you think there’s a chance he feels the same way?”

I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. “Maybe? He’s hard to read, but anything is possible.”

“Yeah.” She exhales. “There’s always hope. And maybe you should tell Garrett how you feel about him.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Garrett knows exactly how I feel about him.”

“Does he? Do you know how you feel about him?” she asks. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Like I want to kill him?”

Bang, bang, bang. A fist thumps against the door.