“A lot of us are,” Cassie said.

“How can I ask him to like Chastity Vasil if I can’t bring myself to do the same?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think you figure it out by standing here and watching him pack up from a distance.”

Cassie gave her a push.

The muddy footpaths of Aunt Rachel’s camp sucked at Chastity’s boots, which really weren’t for this climate or environment. Her whip banged at her hip, all coiled up.

The confidence she wore was something she could use to hold herself up, even when she felt low, small, and scared.

Rain saw her and smiled. More easygoing and—she got close enough to feel his physicality with her power—more relaxed than he had been in a while.

Because he had a place to go to.

“Can I steal you?” she asked.

He nodded.

They walked away, toward a fenced-in area, where puppies were running around. Seeing them peer over the fence, some of the puppies bounced up, tails wagging beneath them.

“I was thinking I might come,” she said.

“That would be great.”

“Because of you,” she said. “As complicated as that is.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said.

She smiled, leaning into him, her shoulder against his arm. “Buying into Aunt Rachel’s philosophy of relationships? Some of those poor guys she takes back to her cabin…”

“Not like that,” he said.

“What a shame,” Chastity said. She was nervous.

“I think you’re cool,” Rain said, then he made a face. “That’s the wrong word. I’ve thought about what I’d say before, and… it’s completely disappeared from my head now that I have a chance. You’re so good to the other kids, Chastity. They’ll miss you, I know that. They look up to you, for good reasons. Because you’re admirable. You have qualities I wish I could have myself. You’re stylish. You’re loyal. You’re brave. You’re fierce when you need to be. You pick things up fast, even without my power helping, and you pick really cool things to pick up, like the whip. You…”

Her heart was warm with the praise, her head aflutter with the doubting words and contradicting sentiments. She mostly hunkered down, leaning against the barrier, and looked down at the puppies.

“I want to be friends,” he said.

She looked at him, a slight smile on her face, even as her heart hurt.

“Not—not as a rejection,” he said. “As a prelude. I’ve got to at least serve my sentence, do the community service. I need to be in a better place, first.”

“Me too,” she said, quiet.

He nodded, taking that in stride, as if it wasn’t the biggest red flag ever.

The hurt was gone, now. There was now only the uncertainty. The open path before her.