We pass a woman and her child coming out of a bakery, and the heady smell of freshly baked bread puts me in serious danger of falling off the scooter. We drive past a park where every inch of grass is claimed by people stretched out reading, chatting, flirting, kissing. We speed by a fountain splashing in the middle of a square, and the light catches the water droplets and morphs them into diamonds. Riding through this beautiful city behind this beautiful boy makes me feel like a poet. I want to capture this feeling and express it in transcendent words.

I wonder if this thrill is what love feels like. I’ve never been in love. When I was in school, I had a couple of crushes, but the boys of interest (it’s never been girls...that issue is pretty clear) never knew. I haven’t really met anyone since then; Bran and I were so isolated. But now I’m sitting behind this totally hot guy in the most romantic city on earth and everything’s beautiful and exciting and we’re going to be working together so I’ll get to see him all the time and...

Oh my god. I can’t like him. The realization dawns on me as he turns the handlebars to drive along the Seine. The sun’s glare off the river blinds me. We’re going to be working together. Representing our people—the Flame-fingers and the bardia. This whole project is based on our relationship. And the bardia are counting on me to prove myself. (Except for those expecting me to fail.) I can’t like Siaka—no one will take me seriously if I do.

That’s not even considering the probability of unrequited love. Percentage-wise, chances are he’s straight. Even if fate is smiling on me and he does like guys, someone that hot definitely has a boyfriend. And even if he doesn’t, and he ended up liking me back, and we had an actual relationship, what if we broke up? What if it hurt to even see him, but we had to because our two clans depended on us to represent them? Maybe he wouldn’t even want to work with me anymore, and I would fail the very kindred who had given me a second chance and trusted me to help them. My stomach turns, and my throat clenches. That would be a disaster.

I remember my sister calling me a drama queen, and my mother saying, “Louis, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.” So I tend to overthink things. But this time, my alarm is justified. A relationship with Siaka is something I can’t let happen. We can work together. We can even be friends. But it can’t be more.