“Well, if I don’t see you again before you leave, tell him good luck and I’ll catch you on the internet?”

“Always, and safe travels! Oh, one thing. It’s kinda been bothering me.”

She begins to open her sketchbook again, but then closes it. She looks up at me. “Okay, shoot.”

“Did you really think Jess was me this whole time? I mean, we know each other pretty friggin’ well and, starflame, she’s a world different from me and…Anyway, just curious.”

She taps her mechanical pencil against her nose. “Yeah, totally.”

Uh-huh.

I leave the booth. “See you next year!” I call over my shoulder as I make my way through the crowd toward the towering Nox King.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scanning the crowd for raven-black hair and brown eyes and that insufferable disapproving frown, but the con is almost over and I’m beginning to realize that so is the magic. It must be the sleep deprivation, but my chest hurts a little at the realization that I’m just Imogen Lovelace again. And in the grand scheme of things, I’m not a part of Ethan’s life.

When I get to Figurine It Out, Milo is slouched on the throne, and he sighs as I approach. Our moms are busy trying to sell as much stock as they can, knocking all of the prices down by thirty percent—which is a steal for some of the bigger pieces. They’re helping a middle-aged woman as she tries to decide between two Sailor Moon poses.

“What’s up, bro?” I ask, setting my box down on the foundation of the throne. “You look blue.”

He gives me a long look before he says, “Just waiting for the rest of my life.”

“Ah. Move over,” I say, slapping his leg. He pulls himself to sit up and I squeeze in beside him, pushing the armrests out to make room. While the back and sides are strictly figurine boxes, the seat is just a hard plastic tub. It buckles a little with both of us sitting on it.

Together we look out over the closing showroom.

“You know, I don’t think I’m all that perfect,” he begins.

I groan and begin to pry myself up, but he puts one beefcake hand on my shoulder and easily pulls me back down. “Miiii-lllooooooo, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I do, though. I need to. Because, I don’t want to get sentimental or anything, but I’ve always thought I was in your shadow.”

I give him a deadpan look. “Excuse me?”