Still, he’s the one person I want to confide in, more than anyone else on the planet. Ever since that night I leaped from Harlowe’s car, it was Levi who I wanted to tell that I’m a Similar. It’s not that I don’t think Oliver would understand; after all, his own discovery that Gravelle is his biological father has rocked him to his core. In a way, he might relate more than anyone. But I worry it would forge an insidious gap between us. That somehow it might cast our childhood—the shared history we based our whole friendship on—in a different light. After all, it changes everything between me and my father. He lied to me for years. Plus, I hate to bring Ollie any more pain when it comes to Gravelle. He already feels so tortured about the fact he’s related to that man.

Before I can think rationally about what I’m doing, I’m running out of my room, down the darkened path to Dark Lake. It’s freezing out, and I haven’t bothered to grab my coat. I pull my sweater tight around my body, welcoming the harsh Vermont chill in my bones. At least the cold makes me feel alive, and not like a ghost of a person—Eden Gravelle—who doesn’t even know who she is.

I stop in my tracks when I reach the shore of Dark Lake. There, in the moonlight, is Levi, flying through the air in one of his martial arts moves. I don’t stop to worry that he might see me here, watching him. I stare, entranced, as he flings himself into the ether with an acrobatic somersault-like movement that takes my breath away. I haven’t seen him manipulate his body like that in so long. I’ve missed it—his skill, his agility, his raw strength.

When the move reaches its conclusion, and he lands on the grass, it’s as if what he did was nothing. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns to walk back up to the school. He sees me then, and I instantly regret my decision not to turn around and leave when I first saw him here. Because now, the thing I want with every fiber of my being, but also don’t want at all, because it’s too hard and complicated, is happening. It’s me and Levi, here, alone.

Levi surveys me for a beat, not moving, his hands still nonchalantly buried in his pockets. I don’t say a word, or breathe, or even move. Like a deer in headlights, I can’t make my brain force my feet to walk even an inch. I feel rooted to the spot, like an old oak tree. Anchored.

“Hey,” he says quietly, not sounding angry. I let out a breath of air. I’m relieved he’s not mad at me for sneaking up on him.