Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

PART I. 

KAZ BREKKER, handsome, clever and broke, with a too-small, shared dorm and what many would label a rather frightening disposition (circa Jesper: “adorable resting bitch face”), attracted trouble and luck in equal measure, and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world without reading a single Harry Potter book.

He worked night shifts at their local university’s karaoke bar, the Crow Club, and spent an unconscionable number of evenings mixing poorly titled drinks whilst getting Inej, one of the only persons on the forsaken planet whom could convince him to smile in public, to order ice waters so that she could quiz him for the shitty Econ test from Rollins the following morning.

Unlike his co-workers, however, Kaz was not particularly enthused by the delicate art of drink mixing (Jesper, and his hipster phase), nor the enthusiastic crowds (Nikolai and his extroverted-ness), nor the prospect of bumping into a pretty girl that preferred breakfast food for dinner (Matthias and his odd obsession with his ex-girlfriend and Kaz’s first choice, post-split).

He was interested in paying off the disgusting amount of student loans that lived in his bank account. So Kaz showed up to his shifts on time, with a medium level scowl, and stirred vodka with a million other things that should probably not have gone inside one’s body.

That is, until Kaz found a new business that was far more profitable and involved intoxicating his peers on a completely different level. It was dangerous. It was thrilling. It was completely unpredictable.

Such was the business of love.

1. there's something about her / and you don't know why / but you're dying to try

 The first time happened because of Chemistry.

Advanced 306, to be exact.

According to a little pesky thing called graduation requirements, Kaz still had to take one Science class in order to emerge from Excel as a Business and Commerce snake (hiss, hiss, motherfuckers), and it was a known fact that Professor Morozova (re: The Darkling, according to, well, everyone who had walked past his office and thought, this was a man who had kinned far too hard with the Phantom) was a little too fond of dissections to not be, you know, at least a pseudo-murderer.

Physics was a no-go, because Kaz, despite once eating nothing but Samyang Buldak for a week, did have a base level of pride.

And so Kaz found himself sitting in a cold, dank lab which had allegedly been built in Imperialist Russia, and most definitely inherited the sub-zero temperatures.

Just as he was about to send Inej an impassioned complaint about the school’s disturbing lack of central heating, Inej beat him to it, with a grammatically correct, Good luck today in the Underworld! :)

It didn’t fix the fact that Kaz’s toes were wandering into hypothermic state, but it did make the corners of his lips twitch upward of their own accord.

if i die today you can have half of my things, Kaz typed, as Professor Juris droned on about avoiding chemical spills and burning eyes and the benefits of buying insurance. It didn’t exactly stir him up with confidence, but, then again, neither did Professor Morozova’s overall creep vibe.

What was the saying…beggars couldn’t be choosers; Business majors knew fuck all about science?

Even your coat?
Inej Ghafa

The Coat was an elegant, black trench coat, a staple in Kaz’s wardrobe and a long-time running joke because Kaz refused to be seen without it—even in thirty-degree heat. Yes, it was hot and dangerous. Yes, it was still iconic. Yes, Nina did take pics, and no, you can’t see them, because for someone who regularly people-watched, Kaz hated photographs of himself.

yes. but don’t tell jesper, Kaz replied.

He was on the precipice of adding an emoji, then stopped himself. Inej wouldn’t make fun of him—okay, she would, but only to a certain degree—but Nina would laugh until the end of time, when she inevitably snooped through Inej’s phone. The girl was one of the nosiest people he knew and had eavesdropping skills in multiple languages. A natural born spy, Kaz thought. If the Psychology thing didn’t work out, Nina Zenik would be a useful addition to MI6.

“And please choose your lab partners carefully,” said Professor Juris, in a semi-serious tone that suggested he did in fact, expect some sort of brain activity to occur within these four walls. “Because you’re going to work with this person and chemical substances, so I suggest you pick someone that you don’t hate, with an IQ at least minimally adjacent to yours.”

Kaz didn’t believe in getting nervous, but something wriggled in his stomach then, and he had a strong feeling that it wasn’t just the month-old Nature Valley bar that had constituted as his breakfast.

He scanned the room, hoping to find someone with at least one working brain cell who also didn’t look annoying, but it was like trying to pick out a good apple in a wheel barrow of dirt. Smelly, frat-energy dirt.  

Then he saw him: a strawberry blonde, half-Korean boy practically shaking in his chair with nerves, a far cry from the composed player he saw in his orchestra class. Kaz grabbed his cane and stepped toward his row.

“Flute first chair,” Kaz said, in lieu of a friendly introduction. “Partners?”

The boy’s eyes widened, and he nearly choked on the word. “Me?”

Kaz resisted the urge to roll his eyes, in part because the kid looked like he was going to vomit on his shoes if he did.

You have an intimidating aura, Jesper had once said, during his psychic phase. Love it, respect it, but sometimes it makes it hard for new people to get to know you, you know?

 Kaz did know, but he also didn’t see the point in ‘new people’ when he had Jesper and Inej.

Jes is right, Inej added, because they loved to take any opportunity to team up on him. Kaz wanted to protest, but she had looked at him in that way that she did, stern but kind, her brown eyes warm on his face. People are scared because they don’t know you like we do. But if they did, then they would—

Kaz hadn’t known how much he wanted Inej to finish her sentence until they’d gotten interrupted by Nina bursting in with angry tears and boyfriend problems.

Kaz had never loathed Matthias Helvar more. And this was after he’d made them watch Atonement for movie night. Kaz had been forced to restock their tissue boxes.

“Yes,” Kaz said simply.

The flute boy looked at him for a long moment, eyes squinting and mouth set as though to verify it wasn’t the beginning of some terrible joke. It was so depressing that Kaz couldn’t even bring himself to be wry about it.

“We’re…IQ adjacent.”

The boy broke out into a tentative smile.

“Thank you?” he squeaked. “I’m—I’m Wylan, by the way.”

“Kaz.”

“I know! I mean, um. Your solo last semester, was like, g-ground-breaking. Honestly, the legatos and the tone…”

Kaz straightened, unable to stop the feeling of satisfaction of being recognized for something other than selling final exam answer keys. He was Ketterdam’s finest violin first chair for a reason.

Kaz began to quiz him on his thoughts on this year’s program, when he realized that they had to get a lab bench before they got stuck in the back. Pricks like Ivan could get away with it, but a C- was not something he could afford on scholarship.

But there were two small crowds, still, and upon squinting, Kaz realized that they were engulfing two different people. One was David Kostyc, a quietly intense boy whom everyone knew was the top of the department by a landslide; the other was Genya Safin.Genya was easy to recognize, in part because of her pretty red hair, which had once led a scrawny kid named Isaac serenading her with Part of Your World in first year. (And yes—that had been a weird moment for all of them.)

There was also the fact that she was the only Arts major, let alone Textiles and Design kid, who had signed up for Advanced Chemistry 306.

The two crowds were people clamoring for them, Kaz realized. David was fielding shouts of people arguing that they needed his help, no they needed his help more; someone even threw in a bid of ten million kruge, the currency of a Crooked Kingdom.

(Crooked Kingdom had gone viral last semester for its top-tier visual effects and surprisingly heart-wrenching story; Kaz, Jesper and Inej had sacrificed the moisture in their eyes to finish it the whole way through. Even Nina had gotten into it. Matthias, unsurprisingly, had sucked at RPG gameplay and died half-way through.)

On the other hand, Genya was fielding romantic proposals that, frankly, made Kaz want to vomit crumbly granola. Different crowds. Both extraordinarily annoying.

“That’s very kind,” Genya said, far more diplomatically than the idiots deserved. “But um, the thing is…”

“What, you think you’re too good for us?” someone grumbled, not bothering to lower their voice. It was the profile of a disgruntled boy with an unfortunate haircut who had clearly watched too many romcoms from the 2000s. Kaz wagered that he probably enjoyed catfishing plots.

“Bitch,” someone else mumbled. There were a few guys who looked uncomfortable, but didn’t disagree. Genya’s cheeks flushed and she stayed quiet for a moment, as though this wasn’t the first time.

Wylan stood up from his seat; Kaz’s hand tightened on his cane. But before either of them could do anything, David snapped.

“Apologize,” he said, his blue eyes flashing.

Catfish boy blinked, as though surprised to have been called out. “But—David—I can’t—”

“It’s very simple,” David said, in a deceptively cool yet clearly threatening tone that Kaz made a mental note to ask him about later. “Apologize for being a sexist jerk, or Professor Juris can make you clean the lab afterhours.”

The boy flushed and looked around for allies, but the same boys who hadn’t stood up for Genya, didn’t stand up for their pal either. Cowards.

Scared into sense at the thought of mopping up toxic waste, the boy mumbled a half-hearted sorry without looking at either of them.

“For?” David continued, firm, earning a spot on Kaz’s short list of people he respected.

“For being a sexist jerk,” the boy snapped, rubbing his arms, as though giving an apology was also giving him a rash.

Genya’s mouth curved into a smile, but it wasn’t for him. Kaz watched her bright blue eyes flick to David’s shyly before returning to the pitiful idiot in front of her.

“I’m sure you are,” Genya said lightly. Then, biting her lip, she turned to the boy beside her and said, in a move that was more shocking than Katherine McPhee’s season of American Idol: “Want to be partners? For, ah, old times sake?”

David’s eyes lit up, as though she had just asked him to investigate the universe with her.

For him, Kaz thought, she probably had.

“Of course.”

“Cool,” Genya said, before wincing at the word, which Kaz was fairly sure she never in her life used. Kaz winced in solidarity.

“Cool,” David echoed, fiddling with his glasses, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Hm.

By now, the crowds had dispersed as people groaned and searched for second best. David and Genya stood frozen in their little bubble for a moment before David mumbled something about finding a lab bench.

Then, before he could stop himself, Kaz turned to Wylan and said: “Let’s sit over there.”

Wylan bobbed his head eagerly and trailed after him. Kaz meaningfully set down the stools for him and Wylan, though he wasn’t sure whether an explosion of fireworks would have interrupted the cautious intimacy between the pair. Kaz watched as their heads bent unconsciously, perfectly toward each other as they poured over the textbook.

Interesting.

“I like your coat,” Genya said unironically, upon finally noticing their arrival. “Very Devil Wears Prada. And the fabric work is lovely.”

Kaz, who endured Jesper’s endless Batman jokes, couldn’t help but feel pleased. At least someone knew how to appreciate a good collar.

“As is yours,” Kaz said, surprised at how much he meant it. Compliments, like everything else in Kaz’s life, didn’t come freely. But Genya was a rising star in Textiles—last semester she’d designed an emerald piece hand-embroidered with golden lilies that ended up going to Irina Shayk, who’d posted it on her insta and gotten a flood of comments begging for the designer.

Genya beamed.

“Thank you,” she said, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in the fabric. “It was inspired by Practical Magic.”

Inej’s favourite Nicole Kidman movie, Kaz thought, for no reason other than the memory of the look of childish delight as she, Jesper and him had huddled under a pillow fort and watched it on Halloween in elementary school.

Kaz had grimaced at the thought of a witch movie—fantasy was not his genre—but couldn’t bear to bring down Inej’s enthusiasm.

Inej had been his (best friend) for so long, that he could seldom go a day without being reminded of her quiet, sturdy presence.

When he saw her favourite chips in the store (salt and vinegar) or heard her favourite song playing on the radio (The Louvre, Lorde). Kaz only needed to look up and watch a flock of soaring birds’ thread through the sky to be reminded by her grace. Perhaps that was the real magic.

“Ooh, I love Nicole Kidman!” Wylan piped up. Somewhere, Kaz felt, Jesper was howling. “Red-head rights.”

Genya laughed. “I know right?”

“I’ve never seen that one,” David said, daring to look up from the textbook to meet Genya’s gaze.

Genya and Wylan gasped in red-head solidarity.

“It’s a classic,” Genya insisted.

“It’s playing this weekend,” Kaz offered slyly. There was a vintage theatre owned by the Smeet family down the street that only played old movies; they claimed it was for the nostalgic effect, but he suspected they also wanted to cut costs. Kaz had worked there in first year before the Barrel, mostly to bring tubs of free popcorn for movie nights.

“We could…go together? Um. If you’re not, like, busy or anything…”

“That would be enjoyable,” David said earnestly.

And Kaz swore that his work would have been finished right then and there, had Wylan not been a well-meaning yet clueless Nicole Kidman aficionado.

“Great! What time do y’all want to meet up?”

Kaz sighed.

The next few weeks consisted of a) crushing the bell curve b) advising Wylan on how not to breathe between rests and c) watching David and Genya dance around the obvious attraction that lay between them.

Because it was obvious. Painfully so.

The way that Genya’s fingers gently brushed back his hair as she put his goggles on him; the way that David gently and unnecessarily took Genya’s hand and showed her how to draw the diagrams ‘more accurately’.

Wylan and Kaz worked surprisingly well together, but David and Genya were something else; faster, smoother and lightyears more precise than everyone else in the room.

It made a lot of sense when Kaz found out that they had actually known each other since high school.

“We took some of the same A. P’s,” Genya explained once, as she and Kaz went to grab the lab coats and commiserated about their ugliness. “He always, um, sat across from me and Zoya.”

“Oh, reall—"

Then, as though she couldn’t hold it in anymore, Genya spilled her guts out in a stream of frustration.

“You know, I spent a good four years hoping he would look at me,” Genya said, her voice sounding something between a laugh and something sadder. “It was actually embarrassing. And here we are again, I guess.”

“He does look at you,” Kaz said, thinking of all the times he had caught David gazing at her while she worked, as though he wanted to chart her every movement and note it down in the notebook where he kept everything that was important to him.

Genya only smiled, bittersweet, and shook her head.

“That’s sweet of you to say, Kaz,” she said, as though sweet and Kaz were not complete oxymorons. “But it’s been…what, eight years? I would know if he did. I mean, I gave him so many openings in high school…And he might as well have shoved the door in my face.”

But what if he’s afraid? What if he doesn’t think he’s good enough for you? What if he can’t believe that someone like you would fall for someone like him?

Kaz wanted to help Genya understand that how she saw David was different from how everyone else did. How it was an ocean away from how he saw himself, but he didn’t know how. Kaz didn’t know how to do anything but hand her a tissue and let her distract them both with a summary of last night’s America’s Next Top Model.

---

“They’re clearly in love,” Kaz ranted, one night, as he and Inej sat in the bleachers scarfing down what apparently constituted as meat from The Barrel. “But they don’t see it! It’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe they just need time,” Inej suggested, yawning.

She was always sleepy after Cheer, no doubt tired from carrying half the team on her back. She rubbed her eyes and a few stray hairs fell into her face. Kaz felt the inexplicable urge to brush them back for her, then realized that that was an incredibly dumb thought. He shoved fries into his mouth.

“We’ll be done our Masters by then,” Kaz grumbled, wrinkling his nose at the thought how much more money he was funnelling into this whole education thing. He, Jesper and Inej had built a plan since eighth grade: get into Ketterdam, finish Bachelor’s summa cum laude, bulldoze straight into Master’s, win life etc.

When he looked up, he was surprised to find her playing with a wrapper, an uncertain expression on her face.

“About that…Kaz…” Inej said, taking a deep breath as though steeling herself to tell him some earth-shattering news, like when she had had to tell Jesper that NBC had cancelled Smash.

“Hm?”

Inej looked into his eyes and he swore he could see a wave of sadness crash into her before she tucked it away.

“You can tell me,” Kaz said, his interest in eating vanishing completely.

He wasn’t one for platitudes, but it was rare to see Inej so unsure of herself. He could count on one hand how many times he’d ever seen her worried. When she’d had to go away for her first team competition. When he had been in the hospital. When Jesper had had his first heart-break.

Inej’s fear waded a little, her eyes softening, and Kaz felt a small swoop of relief.

“I know,” she assured him, holding his gaze for a quiet moment that made him feel as though they were the only people on campus.

It was strange. They did this all the time’ eating after practice, keeping the other company in the late hours when neither of them could sleep.

But suddenly the gym felt impossibly small and Kaz was struck by how the light caught on Inej’s face. How he swore he could hear his own heartbeat.

Then, just as Inej was about to open her mouth, the doors swung open to reveal an irritated Matthias on the phone, clomping on the waxed floors as if they had personally attacked him.

Kaz was going to kill Matthias Helvar.

“Well, fine!” Matthias snapped.

From his Samsung speakers, Kaz could faintly hear a voice that sounded like Nina: “Fine!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

Then, finally realizing he wasn’t alone, Matthias spotted Kaz and Inej and his eyes widened. Inej bit back a laugh and waved. Kaz scowled. Matthias waved back.

“I’m hanging up,” Matthias informed her.

“Not if I hang up first!”

The dial tone beeped for a second before Matthias jabbed some button and the phone shut down, as though it too was exhausted. He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair and sighed existentially.

Kaz almost felt a twinge of sympathy—the confident warrior jock had really turned into a weeping wreck after his explosive breakup with Nina. Almost. Then he remembered Nina sobbing to Total Eclipse of the Heart and any momentary goodwill evaporated.

“Everything okay?” Inej asked, ever the saint.

Matthias shot her a rueful smile.

“Nothing’s okay without Nina,” he mumbled, eyes soulful, and okay, okay, fine, that was sad. Whatever. Then Matthias shook his head and said, “Ah, please don’t tell her I said that. It’s already weird enough as it is right now…and we both just need to…move on.”

“We won’t,” Inej promised, elbowing Kaz when he didn’t respond. He shot her a sideways glare which she returned with a pleasant smile.

“We won’t,” Kaz echoed monotonously.

Matthias nodded solemnly, as though fully trusting their combined secret keeping abilities.

“Thank you,” he said. “If you ever want the gym discount, I got you. Oh, by the way, Kaz, we have longer shift on Sunday—it’s the couple’s paddleboat special, and brunch is going to be stuffed.”

Kaz groaned and cursed every single couple that enjoyed the romantic atmosphere of sitting on a tiny boat on the lake and every single Millennial and ‘comfortable’ middle class suburban family that had contributed to the rise of Brunch.

“Why,” he said, more to the universe than anything else.

“Well, the hash is pretty good, and the lake is nice this time of year? Plus, a lot of people have been going to take The Little Mermaid pics.”

Kaz’s head snapped back to attention so quickly he felt like he broke a bone. “The Little Mermaid?”

Matthias nodded, oblivious to the chaotic plan that was quickly coming together in his mind.

“Yeah, you know, like that scene when the lobster starts singing…”

Kaz did know.

Inej shot him a warning look. “Kaz,” she said, trying to sound stern even though she was currently chewing on at least five overly salty fries. “No.”

“Helvar,” Kaz said, ignoring the way that Inej’s shoe was digging into his own. He retaliated, as they did when they were kids and fought every English class about whether the meaning of blue had any relevance. He had no idea why Inej willingly sat beside him every day if she was just going to contradict him and steal his pencils, but it had made the subject more tolerable.

“…What time did you say the couple’s boat starts?”

Couple’s Boat a.k.a Love on the Water (whomever came up with that deserved to fall in the water, Kaz felt) started at 7:00 a.m. sharp on Sunday morning, because apparently romance did not care about getting 8 hours of sleep.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Inej grumbled, for the fifth time, as she followed him to the dock. Inej had a freakish talent for making no sound when she walked—a useful trick whenever he wanted to get Jesper back for eating his Choco puffs—but he swore she was stomping on purpose, no doubt in an effort to get dirt on his shoes.

And people said he was evil.

“We,” Kaz corrected, a devilish glint ever-present in his dark eyes.

It was far too early to be out in public, but the idea of his plan succeeding and David and Genya finally getting over their nonexistent unrequited requited-ness ticked his adrenaline levels. It was even more exciting, dare he say, than successfully completing the Archives Heist level in Crooked Kingdom.

“And don’t pretend like you didn’t want this.”

Unthinkably, Inej nearly tripped then, her eyes wide as she stared at him instead of where she was going.

“Boating,” Kaz said, as though she, for some reason, had completely forgotten an integral part of her personality. “You love going on the water.”

The look on her face cleared.

“Oh,” she said. “Right. Yes. I love boating.”

Kaz wanted to interrogate her further, but the beep on his watch alerted him that it was time. They had to move now, if they wanted everything to fall into place as he’d planned.

“Hey,” Kaz called out, almost causing the shrimpy boy holding the boat ropes to fall off. Upon closer inspection, Kaz was surprised to find out it was Isaac, Genya’s well-meaning yet hopeless admirer from first year.

Kaz turned to Inej. “Which one do you want?”

Inej squinted, appraising the row of colourful boats. From faraway, they looked like pretty origami paper. He was sure she would the navy blue one, with an elegant gold trim and stars scattered on the sides. But then she got a look in her eye—the kind that she wore when she wanted to punish him and Jesper for secretly finishing the Oreos before she knew they had bought some—and he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“That one,” Inej said, pointing to an atrociously bright pink thing with brighter, red hearts smothering the fronts and sides and backs. The painter clearly had never heard of negative space.

“Really?” Kaz said, grimacing. “Wouldn’t you prefer that blue one, over there?”

Inej smiled sweetly. “Wouldn’t you prefer to row by yourself?”

“The pink one it is.”

“Adoration,” Isaac said helpfully, causing both of them to turn away from each other and toward the boat boy. “The boat, um. It’s called Adoration.”

Of course it was.

“Great,” Kaz muttered, drumming his fingers on his cane impatiently. “Can we please board…Adoration now?”

“Um, yeah, I just need your tickets—”

Tickets that Kaz did not have, thanks to the apparent flocks of Little Mermaid fanatics and boat enthusiasts on campus. The three of them had tried on each of their laptops as soon as Matthias had told them about it, but each had been faced with a dismal sad face and a ‘sorry! sold out!’ sign.

It’s just as bad as when we didn’t get those Adele tickets, Jesper bemoaned, draping himself over the couch as though he was dying.

You’re not even coming on Sunday, Kaz pointed out grumpily. Jesper had indeed announced his plans to get sushi with Wylan, who was starting to tutor him in Physics.

Jesper’s mouth curved into a smile that knew far too much for Kaz’s liking. As if you’d want me to be there. Love you, but I’m not third-wheeling on a boat.

Third-what?

“Do you, though?” Kaz inquired, shooting him a meaningful look. “It’s just one boat. And it’s an ugly boat. Surely no one will notice; I mean, would anyone else really choose this one?”

“Well,” Isaac said, mouth pulling into a frown. “I painted it. So…”

Beside him, Inej jabs him in the side and steps forward with her serenest smile. It was known to calm down angry puppies and an angry Nina and Matthias.

“It’s beautiful,” Inej said. “I really feel, the, ah, adoration put into it. And so does Kaz—he’s just a little tense, because it’s um, our anniversary…?”

Brilliant. His best friend was an evil genius.

“I just want everything to be perfect,” Kaz said solemnly, shooting Inej a secret smile as Isaac leaned forward with interest. His voice rang out clear and true as he said, more sincerely than he usually let himself appear, “Inej deserves nothing but the best.”

That, at least, wasn’t a lie.

Kaz could feel Inej’s piercing gaze on him, but for some reason, he felt a little jolt in his stomach at the thought of what he might find there. Surprise? Discomfort?

It didn’t matter, because Isaac softened.

“Aw, man,” Isaac said, sighing. “I really wanna give it to you. It’s just…there are really a lot of couples coming today…”

“There must be one that shouldn’t be,” Kaz said bluntly. “Show me the list; I’m betting there’s at least one cheater in there.”

Miraculously, Isaac obliged, fishing the paper out of his pocket.

Amongst the rows and rows of irrelevant people, there were some names that made Kaz raise his eyebrows ever so slightly.

Love on the Water Couples Package

Malyen Oretsev and Alina Starkov
Reason: Happy Bestfriendaversary! <3 M.O

Bestfriendaversary? Kaz recalled Inej’s last cheer meet, where Mal had shown up, as per usual, with two streaks of painted green A’s on his cheeks, and Alina had greeted him by jumping into his arms, like something out of those ‘surprising your significant other’ videos that always showed up on Kaz’s suggested feed for some reason. Highly questionable.

Genya Safin and David Kostyc
Reason: I want Sunday morning to be beautiful. D. Kostyc.

Damn it if Kaz was starting to…ugh. Feel things. This had better work.

Nadia and Tamar
Reason: Treating my gf (who is better than yours) T.

Love was not dead, so it seemed.

Kerrigan and Zoya Nazyalensky
Reason: “Helping plan Student Gov. party” - Phase one in the plan to get Zoya to fall in love with me!

“That one,” Kaz said, stabbing a finger at the offending sentence. “Kick them out.”

“But I can’t just—”

“Listen, you’re friends with Nikolai, right?” Kaz said, casually. He vaguely recalled Nikolai patting him on the back and bringing him a burger and piece of sensible advice after the whole Part of Your World fiasco.

Predictably, Isaac lit up.

“Oh, man, he’s the best,” Isaac gushed, almost accidentally letting go of the boat ropes. “You know, he even sent my mom a gift basket when she was in the hospital? And he helped me with my scholarship—”

“Yes, yes, he’s a gift to us all,” Kaz said, waving a hand in the air. “You know, he kind of has a thing with Zoya.”

“Kaz!”

“What? We all know it. I mean, have you seen his Instagram?”

Kaz shoved an offending picture in both of their faces; Zoya fixing Nikolai’s tie for some rich people event, mouth curved into a rare, soft smile, Nikolai’s arm gently curved around her waist to keep her from falling. Neither are looking at the camera—Kaz guessed that Genya took it—because they were completely lost in the moment.

@demonking: thanks @dragonqueen for making me look hotter

photo creds: @besttailored

COMMENTS:

@dragonqueen: tfw u don’t know how to tie a tie lmao

@demonking replied: why r u exposing me like thisssss

@dragonqueen replied: it’s what u deserve

@besttailored: did u just call @dragonqueen hot ;)

@poetryfromtheheart: OOH he thinks zoya’s hot OOH

@demonking: I MEANT THE TIE FLSDKFLSDKJ

@sunsummoner commented the link to: why u always lyin

@dragonqueen omfg he meant the tie shut tf up !!!

@theoldertwin: OOH zoya defending her man OOH

 @demonking commented the link to: Karate Kid scene ‘I hate it here!’

“Wait, so, they’re together? Like, officially?”

Who knew the Linguistics major was such a gossip?

Kaz leaned in conspiratorially.

“Well, not officially,” he said. “Yet. But sources say that Nikolai will definitely make a move soon, and I mean, I’d hate to think of him getting the wrong idea over a Student Gov. party planning session.”

Isaac nodded slowly. “Yeah, that makes sense…”

“Doesn’t it,” Kaz said, feeling a tinge of urgency as he spotted a flash of red hair heading toward their direction. “I’m sure Nikolai would feel really grateful. Just like you did, after the gift basket.”

Okay, yeah. It was a bit much, and he knew it. But Kaz never said that he was a saint.

The impact of the gift basket was clearly monumental, because Isaac grabbed a pencil from behind his ear, like he was some sort of cartoonist in the 90s, and scribbled out the last name. He grabbed the paddles and thrust them into Inej’s waiting arms.

“Ravka is in your debt,” Kaz said, relishing the drama of it for a moment before boarding the little boat with Inej.

Just in time before Genya could see them.

As Inej began rowing, her arms moving back and forth in smooth strokes, Kaz pulled out a notebook from The Coat and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. 

Inej looked both horrified and mildly impressed. “Why am I even surprised?”

They were silent for a moment as they watched David and Genya greet Isaac with cheery expressions. Well, Genya looked cheery—same as she did when David had, on Kaz’s brilliant advice, surprised her after class.

“There’s a special, er, deal for the boats this Sunday,” David said, as they were packing up.

Kaz and Wylan had pretended to sweep up the remainders of that day’s experiment, casting each other furtive looks during the exchange as though they were in a lighthearted sitcom about friends who were in love with each other.“Oh, yes, I heard about that,” Genya said, obliviously. Girl, come on, Kaz had thought, wincing as David wrung his hands together worse than a dishtowel. “Alina’s going with Mal, obviously. Can you believe the—”

“Do you want to go?” David blurted out, so quickly that Genya dropped her pencil. She didn’t bother to pick it up, the #2B dying a quick death on the lab’s grubby, dust-filled floors.

“With you?” Genya said, her voice lifting at least an octave higher.

“Er—yes? Um. I’ve heard that you can see—er—fish and interesting rock formations in the lake, and I thought that, maybe, it could help with your Oceans assignment. Maybe.”

Genya’s face had completely softened by then, an uncharacteristically shy look taking over her usual impenetrable confidence. “You remembered that?”

Genya had spent the last few days agonizing over a particular assignment in her Textiles class; the theme was Oceans, and the task was to design a piece on something relating to the aquatic world.

“What, do they want us to make a dress made out of unrecycled plastic?” Genya grumbled, doodling sad fish faces in the corners of their lab reports. “Why couldn’t it be flowers, or space, or flowers? I don’t even like swimming.”

Wylan started humming Part of Your World and Genya shot him a warning look worthy of Kaz himself. Design came easily to her creative eye, but she had been struggling with this topic for at least a week, and she was getting so desperate she had started marathoning mermaid movies.

“Yes,” David said, adjusting his glasses. “But if you don’t think it will be helpful—”

No, Kaz thought, completely abandoning his task of pretending to clean in favour of gauging the scene in front of them.

“No!” Genya said hurriedly. “I mean, yes, I’d like to go. With you. Um. I’m sure it will be very…educational.”

Wylan had nearly coughed a hairball at that, but at least phase one had been complete.

It had started when Kaz had gone looking for David to explain something about electromagnetic waves that Kaz needed to cram in before their next exam. Kaz had had the forethought to text Nikolai, who was unbelievably friends with everyone and their dogs, and therefore worked like a human directory.

do u know where david is

Kaz Brekker

Hmm probs in the metal shop

why? R u bringing him into ur cult

Nikolai Lantsov

Science

Kaz Brekker

Ok fineeeee don’t tell me

Also Zoya told me to tell u to tell Inej to come to her dorm tom

Nikolai Lantsov

why

Kaz Brekker

Cheer?? World domination?? idk man I’m not Zoya

Nikolai Lantsov

just so you know, i’m rolling my eyes rn

tell your girlfriend that inej will be there at 6

Kaz Brekker

K 

Nikolai Lantsov

And she’s not my gf!!!

Nikolai Lantsov

ok then why is she ur lockscreen

Kaz Brekker

im telling Inej that ur attacking me!!!

Nikolai Lantsov

I’m going to kill you

(this is Zoya)

Nikolai Lantsov

p l s ur boyfriend needs me to mix drinks

Kaz Brekker

Slakjflksdjf

SLDKFJDS

Nikolai Lantsov

After that enlightening conversation, Kaz had found David in the metal shop, working alone on a mysterious, silver string-like piece that looked suspiciously like a necklace.

“I didn’t know you liked jewelry,” Kaz said, casually, as David lifted the metal face covering to look at him.

“It’s not for me.”

“Genya?”

David flushed, as though embarrassed at being seen, but didn’t deny it. “I thought it might cheer her up,” he said finally, adjusting the almost-necklace with an obvious amount of care. “It’s a bit…silly, I suppose.”

“It’s not,” Kaz said, in the most reassuring tone he could muster. It was uncomfortable, like the feeling he got when participation in school plays was mandatory (he and Inej had always been co-narrators in order to avoid the acting parts). But he recalled the way that Genya’s voice had trembled that day, at her painful conviction that she was wasting years pining over someone who would never love her back.

There were a million different ways to skirt around it, but what was the point in using a paragraph to convey a sentence? You didn’t always need so many words. Kaz didn’t know that his friends cared for him because they said so. He knew because Jesper always invited him to events because he didn’t want him to feel left out; because Nina put extra syrup on his waffles so that he wouldn’t have to; because Inej stayed with him when Jordie was in the hospital for three nights straight, and didn’t say a word when he cried in front of her for the first time.

“Are you in love with her?” 

David sighed, as though this was something he had spent a significant amount of braincells on, daily. Then he met Kaz’s gaze, and everything was clear and uncomplicated.

“Of course I am,” David said, as though he was relaying an unchangeable fact of the universe. “It’s Genya.”

He’d told Kaz everything, then, as though the multitude of his feelings had been trapped under a frozen tundra, just waiting for someone to crack through.

Now, David looked faintly like he was two seconds from vomiting into the lake.

“Oh, no,” Inej said, concern writ into her brow. “He looks a bit ill.”

“Well, he is about to confess to a girl he’s been in love with for the last eight years.”

Inej stepped on his shoe and Kaz yelped.

“Hey,” he snapped. “Keep doing that and we’re going to fall in.”

“We? I’m doing all the work—you’re not even pretending to row!”

Kaz waved the notebook in the air and pulled out the lucky Sharpie that Jesper used to take tests and prank people who were foolish enough to fall asleep in his presence. “And what do you think I’m doing?”

“Re-enacting that creepy scene from Love Actually?”

Kaz gasped, nostrils flaring. “Too far, Inej,” he said, scowling as she pulled back the oars with what, for her, constituted as a smug expression. She knew how he felt about that moment, mainly because messy discourse occurred about it every year since Nina had mandated it a necessary winter break tradition.

He was about to snap back when he heard a paddle splash aggressively against the water.

David had a quiet, solid presence; it was one of the things that made him so much more enjoyable to sit beside than 90% of Ketterdam. But this morning it seemed like love had possessed him to become someone jumpier than a student running on Red Bull in finals week.

“David,” Genya said gently. “I think you’re rowing the wrong way?”

Kaz inwardly groaned.

“Oh, yes,” David said, distracted. He didn’t meet her eyes, so focused on reorienting their boat that he nearly dropped the paddles.

Kaz met Inej’s eyes and silently signalled for her to steer closer. For once, she didn’t argue, and moved them past a cuddling Alina and Mal (they seemed completely disinterested in actually moving across the lake) with a few elegant strokes worthy of the varsity crew team. Kaz allowed his lips to quirk up in thanks and felt a small touch of warmth when she returned it.

“So, um, do you come to the lake often?” Genya was asking, looking up at David with a hopeful expression.

“Er—not…ever…really,” David said, coughing. His cheeks were heating up, a nervous lump in his throat. “

Kaz waved his notebook in the air like an S.O.S. flare.

A flicker of confusion flit upon Genya’s face. “Oh…really? So you don’t like boating?”

Kaz waved more aggressively.

David’s eyes roamed around, desperate, until he finally, finally spotted Kaz’s sign.

No, but you like her!

David squinted.

“No, but you like her?”

“I like…who?”

From his peripheral, Kaz saw Inej close her eyes in pity. Okay, so John Hughes was a liar. Why was this so much harder than feel-good, occasionally problematic 80s movies?

“No, I like her,” David corrected, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Genya’s whole body tensed, as rigid as the prow of a ship heading somewhere far, far away. She tried to cover it up with a neutral smile, but Kaz could see the combined shock and hurt rippling in her eyes.

“You like someone?”

SAY GENYA

“Genya,” David said, strained. “The truth is…I didn’t just invite you here for your assignment. Though I hope that you do well, of course. Er—the truth is…”

"You don’t have to tell me,” Genya said, her voice trembling a little. “David, I already know. I’ve known since we were in high school.”

“You do?”

“She does?” Inej whispered, eyes wide. But Kaz could tell from her stiff posture that this wasn’t what either of them wanted.

Genya jerked her head in a curt nod, arms crossed, as she suddenly refused to meet his gaze. David swallowed, mouth opening and closing helplessly as he searched for the right words.

“And…how do you feel about that?”

“How do I feel?” 

Genya’s voice rung out so loudly that Kaz was pretty sure he could hear Alina command Mal to row them to the centre.

“Er—” David gave up and looked above Genya’s head, where Kaz was frantically attempting to do damage control. His hands were starting to cramp from the thickness of the Sharpie. Maybe next time he could bring an iPad.

She’s confused; you need to tell her

“You’re confused!” David blurted out, then winced, as he saw the unbridled irritation flash on the girl’s face.

“I know exactly what’s going on!” Genya snapped, before she put her head in her hands and let out a little groan. “And you know what? I don’t appreciate it.”

The look on David’s face put sad SPCA ads to shame. “You…don’t?”

“I thought we were at least friends,” Genya said, her voice trembling as though she was on the verge of tears. It was especially ironic, Kaz thought, considering the fact that the calligraphy on the side read: Mutual Understanding.

“Kaz,” Inej hissed. “Do something!”

“I’m trying,” Kaz hissed, cursing all of the times he had skipped out on Jesper’s calligraphy classes in favour of typing. “This stupid Sharpie—”

“But you knew how I felt, and you still brought me here on a couple’s boat to tell me that you have feelings for someone else?”

“Genya, I—"

“Take me back to the dock,” Genya ordered, skirting as far away from the boy she loved as possible. It was difficult on a boat that could barely fit two people, but her flexibility from Cheer made it so.

Do not go back to the dock. Do not go back to the damn dock.

“If that’s what you really want,” David said, his voice laden with defeat. He lifted up the paddles.

Screw it.

Kaz scribbled a hasty note and folded the paper into a rudimentary paper airplane. Nothing that would win him any classroom competitions, but it would have to suffice.

“Wait, Kaz—”

Kaz raised his arm and threw with a surprising burst of passion.

Unfortunately, he was not the one in their friend group known for having excellent aim.

The paper airplane landed a few inches short of the other boat, melting into the lake in a pathetic heap. Along with Jesper’s lucky Sharpie.

Kaz was going to commit crimes, he really was.

“Shit,” Kaz muttered.

“We can get him a new one,” Inej offered, so quickly that he almost made a comment about him rubbing off on her. “He won’t know.” 

Jesper didn’t need a dumb Sharpie to do well, but he had gotten it in his brilliant, dumb head that he did ever since last semester, when he’d gotten a streak of high A’s using the cursed object. It was more than that, though. It was every teacher in elementary and high school that had dismissed him for having “too much energy”, that had taken one look at him and assumed that the advanced classes in his timetable were a mistake.

He had been so damn happy last semester; Kaz vividly recalled the minute he had come bounding in their dorm, eyes shining, a wrinkled paper in hand. Hey, I actually got an A—can you believe? Everyone else, like, barely passed, and I got an A!

You did prep well in advance, Kaz pointed out, as he blearily made another pie chart.

Yeah, but. I mean, what are the odds? It must be this Sharpie! I just used it for laughs, but maybe it’s got some luck.

At the time, Kaz had been too exhausted from staring at Excel for five hours to correct him. But clearly, the joke was less of a joke and more of what Jesper actually believed. Kaz had needed to list David and Genya’s entire relationship timeline in order to convince Jesper to let him borrow it that morning. Only for the power of love, Jesper had said, solemnly. Don’t lose it, or my entire GPA is going down.

“No, I think I can reach it, if I just—”

Spoiler alert: Kaz could not reach it.

It happened in what felt like slow motion, but was probably just the horror of having one’s body catapult into cold water. And The Coat!

Kaz choked as his head submerged under the lake, his hands grabbing around for the stupid Sharpie. His relief at grasping the plastic stick was evened out by the feeling of wet clothes sticking to his body.

Did he mention that he never finished swimming lessons?

“Hel—”

An accurate descriptor of what he was currently feeling, Kaz thought faintly, shuddering as a cold wave washed over him. Next time, he was just going to tell Jesper that he was brilliant.

Before Kaz could mentally recite his will, he felt a familiar soft hand curl around his wrist. Inej.

Kaz felt his body being yanked upward and he tried to help push his way to the surface. When he finally reached the top, he shook his head and gasped for air, his ears ringing with the concerned murmurs of nearby couples.

“You idiot,” Inej said, though he could see the relief shining on her face as warm as the sunrise. “You know you can’t swim!”

“I needed to get it,” Kaz muttered, coughing. “Jesper’s stupid Sharpie. He should know…that he’s smart.” 

He didn’t know whether Inej wanted to punch him or hug him. She was close enough, Kaz thought. Her neat braid was a frizzled mess, strands of hair plastered all over her cheeks, some blocking her eyes. Kaz remembered that night in the gym; he felt something tug in his chest.

With a tremoring hand, he gently tucked the strands away, his heart thudding as though he was still fighting to find air.

“Sorry you had to come after me,” Kaz said, their current state making the words easier to let slip from his mouth.

Inej’s eyes were bright.

“I’ll always come for you, Kaz,” she said, her voice so quiet that Kaz could only hear it because he was always trying to listen for her. “That’s what we do.”

Before Kaz could formulate an appropriate response, the ridiculous arms of one Malyen Oretsev hauled both he and Inej onto a lifeboat that came seemingly out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” Inej said, teeth chattering, as they landed ungracefully on what was a hideous, yellow inflatable, duck-shaped thing. Kaz was going to have a talk with Isaac about their design choices.

“Anytime!” Mal chirped, grinning and patting both of them on the shoulder as though they were the little kids he coached for soccer.

“You should really be more careful, though,” Mal said, shooting Kaz a stern look. “We can’t lose the Crow Club’s best bartender, eh?”

Kaz snorted. “The horror.”

“Seriously,” Mal said, shaking his dumb, heroic head. “Your boyfriend makes the best sangrias. Matthias always adds too much ice—like, I want my drink to be cold, not a frozen country.”

Kaz may have been thrown into a freezing lake, but Mal’s words suddenly made him feel like he was toasting in a fiery pit. Somewhere on campus, Nikolai was laughing at him. His only consolation was that Inej looked equally mortified, her hands frozen in her lap.

“Oh, he’s not—"

“—Her boyfriend. We’re just—”

“—Childhood friends.”

Mal blinked, bewilderment splayed across his ruggedly handsome features as he rowed them back to shore before he shrugged.

“Really? Could’ve sworn Zoya said…Well, that’s cool; y’all are kinda like me and Alina then! Childhood best friends, and all that.”

Zoya Nazyalensky, Kaz thought, determined. He was coming for her next.

When he glanced back at Inej, she looked as though she wanted to argue, but he just dipped his head. He and Inej were, of course, nothing like Mal and Alina. Mal and Alina were two seconds away from getting married. But there was no use in wasting their breaths arguing when they were still recovering—they barely had any breaths to waste, thanks to the pressure of salt water.

The rest of the ride was filled with highly suspicious stories about the many things that Mal and Alina did for their yearly bestfriendaversary’s, including matching tattoos—a fact which Kaz filed away for future inquiry.

When they got to shore, they were greeted by David and Genya, who were armed with hot chocolate and towels. Kaz didn’t believe in saints or blessings, but if there were, he would have asked them to bless them.

“I’m so glad you’re both okay,” Genya said, the worry lines in her forehead smoothing out as they settled on a nearby log. “Kaz, I had no idea you were even coming today!”

Kaz gulped down the warm beverage, and glanced at David, his half-frozen mind working extra hard to churn out a plausible excuse.

“Oh, right. I was here for—”

“Me,” David cut in, suddenly sounding a little less unsure.

Kaz sent him what he hoped was an encouraging look.

Tell her.

“Kaz was here for me,” David said, casting a quick glance at him. “Because I asked him for help. With you.”

Genya blinked, her former blazing anger seeming to have dissipated into something more quiet, more cautious. It was the face of someone who was afraid to have hope. Kaz recognized it like a mirror.

“What?”

David looked at the ground for a moment, at the solid rocks that he worked with every day in the metal shop. There was only ever one exception.

“I really hated A.P English,” David said, his hand clutching a glimmering steel necklace as though it was as precious as a rose. “But I took it because I wanted to see you. Because I see you and I understand why people want to be in love.”

Genya’s eyes were blinking back tears.

“But if you don’t feel the same, I understand—”

“I’ve wanted you to say that since I saw you,” Genya said, taking a step forward and kissing the boy.

2. no chance, no way / i won’t say / i’m in love

 When Zoya first invited Inej to the annual Cheer Seniors sleepover, she had been thrilled.

A little embarrassingly so, but also, Zoya, Genya and Alina were kind of like Charlie’s Angels or the Powerpuff Girls or Phoebe, Monica and Rachel; well-known, respected, and a little feared across campus for their combined powers both on and off the mats.

Plus, Inej had spent significantly more time with them ever since Zoya had plucked her from gymnastics and instituted her as Ketterdam’s first flyer.

It had been nice for her and Nina to spend time in a larger group; Zoya baked, Genya braided everyone’s hair, Alina was a general ray of sunshine. Tamar dished out solid advice over tea; Nadia made everyone laugh with her scarily accurate impression of Baghra’s legendary Russian History lectures, Nina re-enacted gossip with Shakespearean flair.

Inej wasn’t quite sure yet what she contributed to the party, but she was content to simply be there, basking in the warmth of other girls who didn’t care if she didn’t talk so much, who didn’t call her weird for her beliefs or ridicule the fact that she was 21 and she’d never kissed anyone.

However, when Kaz delivered the message with that glint in his eyes, Inej knew she was in trouble.

It was the same look that he had in the third grade, when he suggested they get back at a bully by replacing his pencils with stale licorice. She had protested against that too, at first.

“This is perfect timing,” Kaz said, barely even giving her a second to digest the fact that she had just gotten an invite that countless other girls on campus would have done ten aerials for, before launching into his next scheme.

Kaz’s mind flickered faster than lightning and struck just as hard. It was one of the things she most admired about him. It was also one of the things that regularly made her contemplate homicide.

“Perfect timing,” Inej echoed, narrowing her eyes. “For me and Nina to bond with the other girls, you mean.”

“Of course,” Kaz said, innocuously. At her withering glare, Kaz shrugged off the pretense and began his elevator pitch. “Together, Nikolai and Zoya have a combined IQ of Shakira times two.”

“Shakira, Shakira,” Jesper sang, from his position on the bed. Kaz shot him a dirty look, to which Jesper blew him a kiss.

Ever since Jesper found out the lengths that Kaz had gone to in order to secure the placebo Sharpie, he had been, in Kaz’s words, ‘more annoying than usual’, to which Inej translated as ‘affectionate to the point of forcing Kaz acknowledge his emotions’. It was both embarrassing and adorable.

Not that she would ever say that out loud.

“What does that have to do with—”

“I’m getting there,” Kaz said, in the voice he used whenever he binged the Ocean’s Eleven franchise on cable. He identified far too much with Sandra-Bullock-as-a-criminal-mastermind. This was also, much to her annoyance, a factor that further endeared the boy to her.

The problem with Kaz, Inej thought, as she watched him get more animated, was that every con could just as easily flip to a pro.

Kaz worked too much, but he also stayed up till morning helping her finish a paper she’d forgotten about during semi-finals. Kaz rarely talked about his feelings, but his actions gave him away. Kaz shied away from love for himself, but he was strangely invested in making sure everyone else had it. Kaz made her angry, but he gave her space for it and he never treated her like she was stupid or weak. 

Above all, he was who she would call when she couldn’t scale a wall or walk the tightrope, and she was his, and if Inej was being honest with herself, there was probably nothing he could do that would change that.

But sometimes Inej wondered what it would be like if he was more, and she didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing.

“They’re both brilliant, we all know that. But when it comes to each other and their—ugh--feelings, they’re almost as oblivious as Mal and Alina!”

“Is that even possible?” Jesper wondered, shoveling a bag of Cheetos into his mouth whilst completing what looked like a set of Physics problems. “Remember when Alina came back from your Cali trip with His and Hers merch?”

Inej recalled Mal’s dopey smile when Alina bounded down the bus carrying her bag of presents. His was a 100% cotton, emerald coloured sweatshirt with True embroidered on the front; hers, naturally, read North.

Inej didn’t really get what was so romantic about directions, but Genya and Zoya had given her serious side-eye in the gift shop, so she assumed it was something meaningful to them. Either that, or Mal was just really into showing off his Canadian pride.

“So we can match for Christmas pics,” Alina chirped, laughing as Mal swung her around and carried the sweatshirt like it was made of gold. “Like that time in the orphanage, except, you know, these don’t smell like goat.”

“That,” Zoya had said, so that only she and Genya could hear. “Is not normal friend behaviour.”

She was right, but also, it was hard to find Zoya a credible source on these things when Nikolai was also waiting at the bus loop, with Zoya’s favourite smoothie and a helping hand for her luggage.

“Miss me?” Nikolai had teased, tugging on the blue ribbon that tied Zoya’s hair together. She had rolled her eyes, but the pleased quirk of her mouth at the mere sight of him told another story.

“Ugh, please,” Zoya said, accepting the drink with one hand, and adjusting his misaligned collar with the other. “We both know you died without me in study hall.”

That, Inej felt, was not normal friend behaviour. But it was late, and she didn’t feel like getting an extra set of lunges the next morning, so Inej merely bid them good-bye and headed toward Kaz and Jesper, who were arguing over which Avenger they were most like (Kaz wanted to be Tony so badly it was a little embarrassing).

“I take you the sweatshirts,” Kaz said, solemn, “and I raise you Nikolai singing Zoya-themed karaoke every bloody night.”

Kaz pulled out the paper log of Karaoke participants with a flourish. She and Jesper scooted over to study the list as though it was a forensic crime scene.

It was a log of the past week, Inej gathered. She hadn’t been there every night thanks to a thirty-page paper on the parallels between Much Ado About Nothing’s Beatrice and Benedick and Austen’s Mr. Darcy and Lizzie Bennet, but she knew that sometimes the club manager got Nikolai to sing instead of mixing drinks—partially because he always drew in a crowd, and partially because he was prone to experimenting a little too much with the sauces. Inej was hardly a mixologist, but even she knew that Nutella and alcohol was a weird combination.

“What makes it Zoya-themed…oh.”

NIKOLAI’S WEEKLY SETLIST

Miss Independent, Ne-yo

Intentions, (acoustic) Justin Bieber

Adore You, Harry Styles

Can’t Fight this Feeling, (acoustic) REO Speedwagon  

Hopelessly Devoted to You, Olivia Newton John

“Mans was going through it,” Jesper said, whistling. “I mean, you should have seen him sing Hopelessly Devoted. I almost cried.”

“You almost cry every time he sings anything,” Kaz pointed out.

“He’s just that good!”

“The point is,” Kaz said, drumming the paper sheet with his pen. “He needs help. Clearly.”

“Did something happen this week?” Inej said, before she could stop herself. From the corner of her eye, she could see Kaz smirking with pride. Inej willed her heart to relax for a second. She could hear her seventh-grade coach’s voice in her head: take a breather, champ. It was just Kaz.

But her heart never seemed to listen to her commands.

“How did he go from 2020 pop hit to…sad, musical ballad?”

“Number one,” Kaz said, pulling out the notebook he’d half-successfully used to get David and Genya together out of thin air and scribbling a fat number in the centre. Inej really needed to confiscate his Ocean’s 11 DVDs.

“Kerrigan came by to flirt with Zoya again, and she didn’t tell him to shove off.”

“I thought she found him a little annoying,” Inej murmured, though this was being generous. Once, Zoya had called him the human version of Cheerios. Zoya never chose Cheerios.

“She finds him a lot annoying. But you know what else she finds annoying?”

“Mal and Alina calling each other best friends.”

“Cats on leashes.”

“Stupid questions.”

“Matthias breathing.”

“No! I mean, yes. And rightfully so,” Kaz said, exasperated. “But what really pisses her off is Nikolai’s fan club.”

Ah, the fan club.

It wasn’t official, of course; Ketterdam wasn’t that weird. But Inej knew that there was a sizeable amount of people who showed up faithfully every night in order to watch Nikolai do anything from strum a guitar to serve a mocktail. Inej avoided the stage as a rule, in order to avoid getting stampeded.

“It grows every time he sings,” Kaz lamented.

“Like a fungus!” Jesper suggested, crumpling the Cheetos wrapper and aiming for the trash can on the other side of the room. It was more than a long shot. But because it was Jesper, it sailed in triumphantly.

“Was that comparison really necessary?”

“Okay, but he’s been singing to her the whole time,” Inej pointed out.

“Obviously. But she doesn’t know that.”

“The first song was Miss Independent!”

Really, he might as well have written an original titled ‘I’m in love with Zoya Nazyalensky’ and sang that. It might have been more subtle.

“Like I said,” Kaz said, rolling his eyes. “They need help.”

“Zoya would murder you if she found out that you were meddling in her and Nikolai’s relationship,” Inej said, stating facts.

There were a few reasons why Zoya was head cheerleader and not the other two, and one of those reasons was that she could put people in their place without blinking or raising her voice. It was nothing short of magnificent. One of Nina’s idiot Tinder matches pre-Matthias had tried to show up once, and he had run out crying by the time Zoya had finished.

“Maybe,” Kaz said, mouth curving into a grin that made her stomach somersault faster than she did in practice. “But she won’t kill you.”

So, was Inej thrilled to be knocking on Zoya’s door for an evening of feminine companionship? Yes. Was she also vaguely afraid for her life? Hard yes.

Saints. If this went sideways, Kaz owed her an ice pack.

“Are you okay?” Nina whispered, as they waited in the pristine hall, decorated with portraits of pretty, rich, dead people and had an ornate carpet free of hangover stains. Zoya, Genya and Alina’s dorm was lightyears from their own, which had once found a family of racoons in the walls. There was a reason they called it The Little Palace.

“Hm?”

“You seem a little,” Nina paused and made an abstract jazz-hands-y gesture that Inej took to mean weird. “We can always go back if you don’t feel well.”

Not for the first time, Inej thought: bless Nina Zenik.

“Thanks,” she said, shooting her a grateful smile. “But it’s alright. I’m excited for tonight; I just don’t want to die while I’m here.”

“Wait, whaaaaat?”

Before Nina could question her further, the door swung open and the trio beckoned them in.

The feelings are already there, Kaz had said, as she packed her bag for the night. His voice had gone uncharacteristically soft for a moment, as he gazed down at her tiny frame. You just have to help her find them.

Inej squared her tiny shoulders and allowed herself a nervous smile. She flew to borderline dangerous heights on the daily. She befriended a boy who once took everyone down at laser tag with breaking a sweat, and another boy who sharpened his barbs by watching Tyra Banks on ANTP. She could do this one thing. Right?

“Welcome to the palace, ladies,” Alina said, with the dramatic flourish of someone who had just played Cosette last semester. Inej looked at Nina, who giggled and helped her usher in her bags to a free corner of the room.

Genya was already starting on Nadia’s hair, chastising Tamar for distracting her girlfriend with memes. From the kitchen wafted the delightful scent of pastries that were most certainly going to keep them awake for at least 72 hours.

Inej had no idea what Zoya put in them, but they were always useful when she had a Maths exam she hadn’t studied for, which, due to her inevitable allergy to numbers as an English major, was almost always.

Nina sniffed the air and her eyes widened. She had a preternatural sense when it came to waffles. “Are those…fresh Belgian waffles?”

“They’re not ready yet,” Zoya said warningly, without looking up from her phone where she was rapidly texting someone—Nikolai—an impressive seventy words per minute.

“Ow! It buuurns. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I literally just said--!”

Inej’s mouth tugged into an amused smile as she watched Zoya fuss over Nina’s smarting hand with a cool cloth, all the while lecturing her on the points of kitchen safety. Zoya could reject the label as much as she wanted, but it was clear which one of them was the mom friend. A mom who could fight like a general and look good doing it, but a mom friend nonetheless.

In her absence, Zoya’s phone made a series of noises that sounded like crashing waves—clearly distinct from her usual notifications which sounded like the swoosh of the wind. Inej knew that if Kaz were there, he would have taken notice. 

What was that ridiculous motto he liked to say? With the Coat billowing in the wind and a purposefully pensive look on his face? There are no coincidences in Ketterdam. All of those Scooby Doo episodes they had marathoned in their youth had clearly made an impact.

“Er, Zoya,” Inej said, subtly sneaking a glance at the screen as she passed the other girl her phone. “I think the…ocean is calling you?”

Nikolai Lantsov sent you a message.

Zoya’s forehead crinkled momentarily before a flash of understanding flicked in her eyes. “Oh, that—it’s just Nikolai,” she said, with a casualness that was too smooth to be natural.

“Oh, that’s what that sound was! I thought you were just like, really into meditating,” Alina said, un-ironically. Inej couldn’t help but chuckle a little, though she smothered it slightly to be polite.

Nadia didn’t bother with such formalities; she burst out laughing, ignoring Genya’s yelp as her fingers slipped through her hair. Her eyes were as lively and teasing as ever. “Please, we all know Zoya has never meditated in her life.”

“Excuse you.”

Zoya poked her ticklish side in retaliation, making Nadia collapse in a heap of laughter. Genya groaned as her hard work vanished. “Zoya!”

“She started it,” Zoya said smugly, dodging swiftly dodging Genya and planting herself on the couch beside Tamar, who held up a pillow in defence as Nadia got up from the bed and launched an attack against her girlfriend. 

“Hey! Zoya, help me out here—”

Before Inej knew it, Genya and Nadia were launching themselves at the other two, who yelped and jumped on the couch as though it were a ship and they were

“Nina, pass me your pillow,” Zoya ordered, smirking as Genya’s eyes widened. Nina’s pillow was a fluffy, pink, feathery thing that looked like it had come out of Big Bird. She’d bought it last year, when she and Kaz had gone on a Shopping Channel kick around Black Friday, and it had only taken one sleepover for Inej to find out that the thing shed.

“Evil! Nina, don’t—I’ll do your hair for a month, I swear—”

Nina’s red lips curved into a pleased smirk as she stroked the pink fluff ball in her arms. “I knew this would come in handy someday…”

“I’ll teach you how to do the Superman,” Zoya blurted out, smiling triumphantly at Genya’s gasp of betrayal.

Nina hummed and peered at Zoya with a cool gaze that Inej suspected she had learned from the other girl herself. It was impressive, Inej thought, for she knew that Nina had been eager to learn the move ever since they’d marathoned Cheer. “For competition?” 

“That’s so unfair!” Genya said, rightfully. The Superman was Zoya’s specialty, and hers alone.

“All is fair in war, Gigi,” Zoya drawled, a maniacal gleam in her eyes as Nina approached the makeshift ship.

“I don’t think that’s how that quote goes,” Nadia said, squeaking as she and Genya armed themselves with whatever they could find on the bed.

“Wait, please—Nina—my hair!”

Nina shot Genya a sympathetic smile as she took Zoya’s outstretched hand and joined them on the boat.

“Still love you Gen,” she said cheerily, as she passed the pillow into Zoya’s eager arms. She turned to Zoya. “FYI, I would have totally given it for a pop up tuck tut.”

“We both know I taught you better than that.” Zoya said, rolling her eyes.

Still, Inej could see the affection lurking beneath.

Before Inej had joined the team, Nina had regaled her with daily complaints about how Zoya was harder on her than the others.  But it had been obvious, at least to Inej, that it was only because she believed Nina could go far, because she worried about their friend’s impulsive nature and wanted more than anything to keep her from falling—too hard, at least. Inej saw the same thing with Kaz and Wylan, who he had freely spent the last few weeks nitpicking on his flute technique and posture. It was tough, but it was love.

It was a shame that she and Kaz argued so often, Inej thought.

“Inej,” Alina whispered, beckoning her from the floor. Inej blinked, both surprised and relieved at being addressed, and slunk down to her hiding spot as the war waged on above them. Alina wore an impish grin as she produced two cans of glitter powder. “Can’t let them have all the fun, can we?”

Inej’s eyes widened and her mouth unfurled into a slow, mischievous grin.

“Shall we?”

“Oh, we shall.”

The next few minutes were a blur of shrieks and an explosion of pretty colours that rained down on all of their faces and left their cheeks glimmering with rainbows. Nina’s pillow had been thoroughly destroyed, as had the beds and the living room, which now had blankets and pillows strewn around freely. After Zoya and Genya called a truce, they went into the kitchen and returned with the now cool waffles, and glasses of juice and water.

The chairs were lying around, but everyone sat on the floor, for the unspoken reason that it seemed more sleepover-like. Nina’s Spice Girls playlist hummed in the background as they sat and ate breakfast for dinner in companionable silence.

The silence was broken when Alina said, innocently: “Wait, why does Nikolai get a special ringtone?”

Zoya looked rather determinedly at her plate and took an unnecessarily long swig of water (Inej wondered how she was doing it) in lieu of answering it.

“Special ringtone…for a special guy?” Genya teased, laughing as Zoya nearly choked.

Alina and Nadia let out an obligatory oooh as Tamar whistled.

“You’ve been so mushy ever since you’ve got together with David,” Zoya grumbled, though there was a rising blush on her cheeks.

“Don’t change the subject!” Genya admonished, though she got a little starry eyed at the mention of her boyfriend.

Inej couldn’t help but feel soft as she remembered the moment that they had finally admitted their feelings for each other. It had taken a drowned Kaz, but they got there in the end.

Kaz had looked at her in that moment too, with that inscrutable gaze of his, the one that she had never been quite able to decipher—sometimes she saw it when he spoke of his family’s farm, the one that he and Jordie had spent their childhood playing at, surrounded by the peace of the countryside and the animals. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think that it was—

“Tell us, tell us, tell us!”

“There’s nothing to tell!”

Jolted out of her memory, Inej shook her head and refocused.

She had a job to do, after all.

“Leave Zoya alone,” Inej said, in a calm and measured tone that managed to quiet the riotous girls and bring an unfairly cute pout on Alina’s face. “I’m sure there’s a completely logical reason behind it.”

Zoya cast her such a look of gratitude that Inej almost felt bad for what was to come. “Thank you, Inej.”

“…Although it is interesting that he’s the only one that gets that notification sound. Almost as if someone’s really paying attention to when he’s calling…”

“Thank you, Inej,” Alina said, pulling out an enthusiastic bro fist-bump. Definitely a side-effect of Mal, Inej thought, as she awkwardly stuck out her own to gently meet Alina’s knuckles.

“Rude,” Zoya said, huffing. She crossed her arms, not saying anything as the rest of them peered at her for a solid minute of expectant silence, before she broke.

“It’s not even anything,” Zoya said, in an almost panicked tone that indicated it most definitely was. “It’s just. Sometimes we take walks in the rose garden at night—”

The room exploded. 

“You and Nikolai what?”

“You’re alone together in the rose garden?”

“—we have a rose garden?”

Zoya buried her head in her hands as the girls’ voices rose, a flurry of theories spinning over her head. Pityingly, Nina slid what was left of her pink pillow under Zoya’s head, and she took it and let out a little scream.

“Silence, children,” Inej said, enjoying the way that they obliged and settled down. Maybe in another life she had been a Kindergarten teacher. “Let her explain.”

“Please do,” Genya said, huffing. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this. Is this why you always steal my coffee in the morning?”

“I’ll explain,” Zoya said, in what was the closest thing Inej had ever seen to a pout. “If you guys promise not to make it weird.”

Privately, Inej was pretty sure that regular moonlight walks with a handsome boy in a garden literally filled with roses, didn’t need much else to qualify as weird—especially when said boy was obviously in love with her, but she wanted to hear what Zoya would say, and so she kept quiet.

Alina made a zipping motion with her mouth.

“You know that Nikolai has insomnia, right? And sometimes I have trouble sleeping too. So, we usually, like, call each other or whatever. Or I would go to his dorm—”

Beside her, Alina looked like she was going to burst, but Inej cast her a warning look.

“—But then I found the garden, and I read that lavender is a soothing plant…so I suggested we meet up to clear his head, and we just sort of…kept meeting there.”

“How often?”

It wasn’t like Zoya to squirm, but she was having a pretty hard time sitting still right now.

“Mm…maybe two…three…four…times a week?”

“Four times—?”

“—A week?”

Zoya huffed at the gaping faces and looked more like herself.

“If you’re just going to repeat what I’m saying—”

“Does it help?” Inej broke in, her voice soft.

She thought of all the times that she had snuck out of her childhood bedroom to meet Kaz at midnight, when they had wandered aimlessly around her neighbourhood and the light of the moon slanted against his face perfectly.

“The garden?”

Zoya met her eyes, and Inej felt that she had seen something too.

“I hope so,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically wistful as played with the feathers on Nina’s pillow.

Then Zoya remembered herself and cleared her throat. “I mean. It better help him. Otherwise, he owes me coffee.”

“You mean me,” Genya chided, without heat. 

Just as Inej was about to inquire further, there was a sharp knock on the door. When no one responded, it went again, louder, impatient.  

“Candy man?” Nina wondered, shrinking into Zoya’s shoulder.

“Beetlejuice,” Tamar said sagely, as Nadia snuggled into her chest.

Inej rose, followed by Alina who armed her with the glitter can. With Alina on the other side, Inej turned the knob and pressed the button, releasing a cannon of colourful glitter on the unsuspecting victim.

“Kaz?”

Inej covered her mouth with her hand and stared at the boy in front of her.

He stood with a frozen hand outstretched as so to knock again, wearing the new coat that Genya had gifted him as a token of her appreciate for meddling in her love life; a dramatic tweed thing that made him look like Sherlock Holmes (the Elementary version), but Inej would bet anything that he was wearing his matching set of Batman pajamas underneath.

Kaz blinked, mouth ajar for a moment, as though he couldn’t quite believe that he had just been ambushed by the full spectrum of colour. The last time he had even been in the same vicinity as a rainbow was last year’s Pride.

“Inej,” Kaz said finally, grimacing a little. He seemed to wrestle with whether it would be more embarrassing to attempt to wipe it off and fail or keep talking with a glittery face; it was a difficult choice, but Kaz eventually opted for the latter.

Inej suspected as much.

Kaz wasn’t in the business of trying things he wasn’t sure that he would succeed at or enjoy; it was why he always ordered the same thing whenever they ate out (“Why would I pay for something that I wouldn’t like?”) and also probably why he quit piano in the third grade, disappointed that he a year of lessons had not transformed him into a modern Mozart (“The violin is superior, anyway.”).

“I came by to see how…it’s going,” Kaz said meaningfully, even though Alina had somehow crept back to Genya—perhaps Inej had taught her a little too well—without either of them noticing.

“It’s going,” Inej said, biting her lip to keep from laughing. A difficult task, she could assure you, considering the contrast between Kaz’s serious expression and the shine of his face. “Well. Really, really—”

Let it be known that Inej tried. She really did.

“It’s not that funny,” Kaz said, huffing, but his whiny tone only made Inej double over.

“I’m sorry,” Inej managed to say, as tears sprung into her eyes. When she got back up, she was pleasantly surprised to see that Kaz was also fighting a smile, the corners of his lips twitching as she righted herself.

“Is it that bad,” Kaz said, craning his neck in an attempt to look at himself in the closest mirror, which Alina had vandalized with positive quotes and a spirited, stay beautiful! scrawled in pink lipstick.

“No,” Inej said, going on her tiptoes to block him and smirking as he let out an aggravated sigh.

She didn’t know why, but there was something satisfying about knowing that she could affect him in a way that no one else could. Even if it was just to annoy him a little.

“No, it’s beautiful,” Inej said, unfurling a real smile. The glitter made him look a little less like a cynical student running on three hours of sleep and more like a boy who had once confessed that his dream was to make enough money to buy back the farm and give it to his brother.

You really are, she wanted to say, but thought better of it.

Who was she, Nikolai?

Kaz’s cheeks reddened and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, as though unsure of what to do. Another rare sight, Inej thought. Kind of like spotting a dinosaur or Alina without a smile.

“Well—people will think I have dandruff.”

Inej snorted, arms folded. “Who has rainbow coloured dandruff?”

Then, for the added bonus of irritating him further, she added, sweetly: “Besides leprechauns and unicorns, of course.”

“For the last time, leprechauns aren’t real! Outside of that bloody cereal box.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Inej said, rolling her eyes. “I saw you and Nikolai hoarding that box behind the bar the other night.”

Kaz let out a dignified sniff as he looked above her head and squinted at the mirror. There wasn’t any use, really, considering how huge Alina’s writing was, but Kaz could be quite vain. 

“I was merely helping him finish it so he could recycle the box, you know the environmental cost of…”

“For Saint’s sake,” Inej grumbled, and without thinking about it too hard, reached over and brushed the stray sparkles off his head. Unfortunately, she hadn’t estimated how close this would bring her to him, and what more, how strangely okay she felt about it.

Neither of them were physically affectionate people.

Sometimes it was uncomfortable; often it was too overwhelming. A boy who had had a crush on her once tried to grab her waist once and Inej had been frozen by the feeling of discomfort rising in her chest, like the paralysis of a body in ice. Kaz had nearly gouged the boy’s eyes out.

Kaz had stopped talking entirely, she realized. He was staring at her so intensely that Inej felt they were alone, and that everything behind them had ceased to exist. Inej brushed the remaining dust particles off of his head and retracted her hand dumbly. 

They stood in an unbearable moment of awkward silence—it felt like years, even though Inej knew it was only a minute—before Kaz began to talk again, albeit more frantically than usual.

“About the plan—”

“Oh, yeah,” Inej said, cringing at how her strangled voice sounded. Also: yeah? “It’s been really, er, lovely.”

Inej thought that she might have heard a few giggles and whispers, but she willed herself to focus. Saints. Nikolai had better send her a gift basket after this. According to Isaac, they were life-changing; Inej felt that she deserved a little life-changing energy after tonight.

“You were…not wrong about them,” Inej admitted, grudgingly. Kaz just barely stopped himself from pumping his fist, but she could imagine his inner monologue: I was right, I was right, I was right. “She told us about the walks.”

 “The first time she texted him about it, I thought he was going to pass out,” Kaz said, with poorly hidden fondness. “He didn’t have another nightmare for weeks.”

“How do you know?”

“His setlist,” Kaz said simply. “Musicians can’t hide anything.”

“It’s nice that you pay attention to that,” Inej said, watching him flush and attempt to shrug off the compliment with an unintelligible noise. Then, finally remembering that there were in fact, other people behind them, Inej leaned in and lowered her voice. “Zoya has a special ringtone for him.”  

“What,” Kaz mumbled, swallowing as though he hadn’t heard her. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. Inej should not have found it cute, but apparently, she had terrible taste.

“She has a specific ringtone for him,” Inej repeated. “Maybe so that she knows—”

“—When he needs her,” Kaz finished, a spark of recognition flickering in his dark eyes. “She doesn’t sleep much, does she?”

“Zoya cares a lot,” Inej said, gaze flicking briefly at the girl, who was in the midst of helping Alina find solid vegan options for her upcoming not-date-date with Mal.

“She doesn’t like to show it,” Inej cast him a pointed look. “It’s nice to see it when she does, though.”

Kaz scoffed a little, but didn’t argue for once.

“They match,” he said finally. “Her and Nikolai. They work well together. He’s happier when she’s around; he doesn’t…pretend with her.”

“She’s more relaxed with him too,” Inej said, thinking of all the times that Nikolai had calmed her down, or made her laugh in the stands despite the charged tension during competitions.

In fact, Inej could only remember one time that they had really fought. It had been a stupid misunderstanding over Ehri Kir-Taban, a pretty exchange student from Shu Han, who happened to be one of Nikolai’s old family friends. Nikolai had been tasked to show her around, and, after accidentally walking in on them laughing at some idiotic meme in his dorm, Zoya had begun to avoid him.

Then one day, Nikolai had taken her to the side before practice. They were supposed to be warming up, but obviously no one was doing anything but watching them from the sides.

“What?”

“Come on, Zo. I haven’t seen you in like, a week.”

“You saw me yesterday. In class.”

“Come on. You know what I meant.” Nikolai ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that you were…”

“What,” Zoya spat out, as if daring him to say it.

“Jealous,” Nikolai burst out, mouth set in a frustrated line. Inej could see it in his eyes, though. The flare of hope mixed with desperation. “Okay? Ever since Ehri came—”

Oh, no, Inej thought, wincing. Alina covered her eyes with her hands.

“Why would I be jealous?” Zoya snapped, heated, her hands balled into fists by her side. “It’s not like we’re—anything.”

It was a lie designed to sting, and it had done its job. Nikolai stared at her for a moment, as though she had pulled his heart out and crushed it, and straightened.

“I guess I shouldn’t bother going tomorrow, then,” Nikolai had said, his voice colder than Inej had ever heard it. It was a big competition for them, though arguably anything against Fjerda was a big competition.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Zoya’s face had crumpled with regret as soon as he turned her back on her, but she kept her mouth shut.

And the next day, they all paid for it.

Everything had gone wrong. They had arrived late, it rained hard, plastering their clothes to skin; Alina had almost gotten into a fistfight with a girl from the other team. And their routine had completely fallen apart on every level—even Zoya seemed like she was sleepwalking.

But the real disaster had struck when they slunk out of the gym, already defeated, to find that someone had stabbed their tires.

“I’m too cute to die here,” Nina had whined, though Inej could tell she was getting worried. It had been dark and they were stranded on enemy territory. Not for the first time, Inej cursed Pekka Rollins for assigning a midterm on a Friday.

Zoya had taken one look at their pathetic state and made the executive decision to let go of her pride. She pulled out her phone and stalked into the bus.

“I know you’re probably still mad, but…”

The conversation had been short. When Zoya came back to their spot, where they were sitting at the curb side and finishing off of the last of their chips stash, she looked terrifyingly calm.

“We’re fine,” Zoya said. “The bus will be here in thirty.”

“But the traffic and the storm,” Marie fretted, as apocalyptic as usual. To be fair, though, they were using each other’s jackets as umbrellas. “How is he going to…”

“It’s Nikolai,” Zoya said, without an ounce of uncertainty. “He’ll come through.”

Nikolai had bailed them out in less than an hour, and they all collectively thanked his terrible rich parents for leaving him with a trust fund that could afford a spontaneous bus rental.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Zoya muttered, as he helped her and Inej shove their bags in with his typical, easy-going smile. “Didn’t you have that music thing?”

The worlds uncurled between them silently. With Ehri.

“Not really my type,” Nikolai said, shrugging. He met Inej’s gaze for a moment, and shot her a small smile. It was a little sad, as though he was asking her to keep a secret.

Inej dipped her head in a short nod. She hadn’t doubted Nikolai either. But it wasn’t only because he was dependable; it was because he had texted her an hour before the end of their competition.

Where’s the comp again?

Nikolai Lantsov

The Ice Court.

Why?

Inej Ghafa 

Nikolai hadn’t texted her back, which Inej had thought surprisingly rude. Then she had realized he was probably getting in his car, trying to get to them in time. She remembered telling Kaz and Jesper the story later that night, buried under Jesper’s fuzzy robe, thinking that it was much easier to be amused by a thunderstorm and flattened tires in the comfort of your best friends’ dorm.

“Wow,” Jesper had said, shaking his head. “Nikolai’s really doing the most. I would not have driven in that—he could’ve gotten electrocuted. Who even does that?”

“I would,” Kaz said, so quietly, so quickly, that Inej knew he hadn’t meant to say them out loud.

But she heard him anyway.

Inej looked up at Kaz, and the words slipped from her mouth like something warm and true. “He’s always there for her. He makes her feel safe.”

They stared at each other for a moment, suspended in the doorway of the Little Palace, which, according to house rules, closed its doors to visitors at seven. Inej wondered how it was that he always found a way to her.

“I should probably get back,” Kaz said finally, finally taking his hands out of his pockets. 

“Oh, right.”

Inej felt a stirring of something in her chest. She felt—

“Can I just see that for a second?” Kaz asked, pointing toward the glitter can. Bewildered and still vaguely distracted by the strange feelings in her chest, Inej handed him the can, only to be sprayed by an explosion of glitter.

—Like she was going to murder him.

“Kaz!”

“Fair’s fair,” Kaz drawled, wearing a triumphant smirk. His thumb was featherlight on her cheek as he lightly grazed the powder and brushed excess stars off. Despite herself, Inej’s pulse quickened.

“Now we match.”

Before she could process what was happening, Kaz turned and waved to the hushed crowd behind them.

“Good night ladies,” he said, in a gesture of goodwill that demonstrated how far he had come since his vow in first-year to quote, focus on his GPA and damn everyone else to the bottom of the dregs.  

“Bye Kaz,” they chorused riotously, with a troubling amount of energy that Inej sensed would come to bite her soon.

“Good night, Inej,” Kaz said pleasantly, wearing the stupid smirk that she had known for more than half her life.

“Jerk,” Inej muttered, though she couldn’t keep an equally stupid smile off her face, even after he had long vanished back into the night.

When Inej made her way back to Nina, she barely sat down for a minute before the room shrieked.

“What was that?”

“Nina, you were so right—"

“I had no idea Kaz was so soft!”

“Only for Inej,” Genya teased, the traitor.

“Pot, kettle,” Zoya said, with a devious grin that would have made Kaz proud. Hmph. Maybe it was a good thing that they weren’t too close.

Inej could feel her cheeks reddening past the point of no return at the insinuation. “That’s—no—we’re completely different!”

“Ooh, there’s a we,” Tamar said, in a sing-song voice that made Inej suddenly wish she had sprayed her harder.

As always, this was all Kaz’s fault.

“We’ve known each other since elementary,” Inej said, well-aware that her voice suddenly sounds like a pitched version of a remix on Youtube. “I watched him trade Pokemon cards—I’ve seen him puke after eating ketchup with mac and cheese.”

“Aww,” Nadia said, as though projectile vomit was adorable, and not, like, the reason that her favourite white heelies had died. 

“Okay, so, like, Mal and Alina energy,” Nina said, her eyes dancing with a terrible, mischievous sparkle. “But make it edgy.”

Inej paled.  

But Mal and Alina were—well, they were practically two steps away from getting married! Everyone who had ever met them knew that they were meant for each other. Mal spontaneously brought her bouquets of irises and braved twenty centimeters of winter snow to bring her soup when she was sick. For Saint’s sake, Alina painted his number on her cheeks on gamedays.

Her and Kaz, on the other hand…they were…best friends, sure. Fine. But in a perfectly reasonable, not at all romantic way. They worked well together, to borrow his words. In fact, they were really more like close colleagues. Colleagues who bickered, but always got the job done.

Inej tried to picture Kaz getting her flowers, like the wild geraniums that her mother had so loved from her father or the pretty anklets that Nadia gifted Tamar. But all he had ever gotten her was a headache. 

“Mal texts Alina every morning!” Inej blurted out, a rush of adrenaline making the words rush out of her mouth like the vomit that had stained her precious shoes in the fifth grade. “He calls her sunshine and Alina reads them before matches to calm her down!’

Alina let out a gasp, springing up from the floor as though Inej had electrocuted her with the fact of Mal’s obvious, undying love.

“Nikolai drives Zoya every time she wants to go somewhere,” Alina said, accusingly. “And sometimes she doesn’t even have to go anywhere! Sometimes they just drive! Together!”

As Zoya sputtered, Genya joined in with a surprisingly devilish smile. It seemed that the afternoons spent critiquing Ketterdam’s Next Top Models had rubbed off on her.

“It’s true,” Genya said, tossing her hair backward with an expert flick. “They take road-trips without us too. Like that time for your aunt’s birthday last semester.” 

“Novosibirsk is, like, five hours away,” Zoya huffed. “How else am I supposed to get there?”  

“I’m sorry, are there no busses? Planes? Trains?”

“Automobiles?” Nadia wagered, snickering as Zoya attempted to bulldoze her way out. “Z, I love you, but you act like he’s the only one here with a license.”

“Well, he’s the best driver,” Zoya snapped, ignoring Alina’s indignant noise of protest. “Alina drives like a five-year-old, Mal drives like a grandmother, Genya doesn’t know how to read a stop sign—”

“Uh, I was actually a driving instructor for a year,” Tamar said, shrugging, earning a puzzled look from the other girls. “But okay, sure, Nikolai’s the best.”

“He just…Ugh…he has a way of…you know?”

“No,” Inej said, along with the emphatic chorus of the girls.

Zoya groaned, with the agonized face of a someone who wanted nothing more than this conversation to end. She rubbed her temples, as though the idea was sending her into a spiral of migraines.

“I can’t—explain it,” she mumbled. “It’s just sounds so dumb and cliché and ugh. Forget it. I won’t say it.”

“Oh, come on,” Nina coaxed, her doe eyes big and bright as she peered at her mentor. “Aren’t you the one that’s always telling me to face my problems head-on?”

“Yeah,” Alina chimed in, taking her place back beside Inej, as they all huddled in what felt like a fever dream support circle. “Plus, we all know here, anyway.”

“Just try,” Inej suggested gently, meeting Zoya’s gaze with an encouraging smile. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Zoya chewed on her lip for a moment, as though struggling to string up the right words. Even as an English major, Inej knew that words could be hard. But sometimes you only needed a few to say what you meant.

Zoya was hugging her legs up to her chest, her dark hair spilling around her freely, so unlike the neat braided plaits or ballet buns she kept it in during class. In that moment, she didn’t look so much like their fearless general. She looked like a girl who was afraid to be loved.

“When I’m with him,” Zoya started, her voice raw with wanting, “it feels like summer.”

The room was quiet as her words washed over them.

“You love summer,” Genya said quietly, interlocking Zoya’s hand with her own and squeezing it gently.

“I know,” Zoya said, her eyes heavy with fierce longing. “It scares me sometimes. How much I…love it.”

Inej was about to pull out a quote about loving from Emma—she hadn’t pulled that all-nighter not to memorize Ms. Austen’s best work—but was interrupted by a buzz from her own phone.

stand by

the demon is going to text the dragon in a minute

make sure she goes

Kaz Brekker

It was a good thing, Inej thought, that the Saints had blessed her with a naturally neutral face. Otherwise, it would have made it so much more difficult to a) not burst out laughing at Kaz’s insistence on using codenames and b) fake ignorance when, in precisely sixty seconds, Zoya’s phone rang with the sound of the ocean.

Upon hearing the noise, Zoya nearly threw it across the room, stopped only by Genya’s quick reflexes which had been sharpened by hours at the sewing machine. As though she was a child, Genya slid the answer button for her and placed the phone to her ear.

Say hi, Alina mouthed, earning a patented glare.

“Hi,” Zoya said, though it lacked its usual bite.

“Hey…Listen, I know you’re having that thing with the girls tonight. And feel free to tell me at any point to shut up—”

 “Shut up,” Zoya said, automatically.

"Hilarious, Nazyalensky.”

“I know.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Inej spotted Alina and Nina drawing hearts with the popcorn kernels.

“Okay, anyway, the reason I called—I was just wondering—uh.”

It was strange for Nikolai to sound anything less than confident, but right now, he was struggling. What kind of pep talk had Kaz given the boy?

“If you could meet me? You know, uh, at our place—just for a minute.”

Our place? Alina mouthed, as though she and Mal didn’t extensively mention the meadow every other day. Inej wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed there someday.

Zoya swallowed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It was the closest thing to shy that Inej had ever witnessed from the other girl.

“Right now? Is everything okay? Is it the nightmare again?”

“—Oh, no, yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out—”

Inej could practically hear the smile in his voice as he continued.

“It’s nothing like that. There’s just something that I want to show you.”

“Say yes,” Nina hissed. Tamar and Nadia nodded in agreement.

“Do it, or I’ll never hear the end of it in crew,” said Tamar, making a face. “Do you want that for me, Zoya? Do you?”

Zoya rolled her eyes, but obliged.

“Okay,” she said, exhaling. “See you in five?”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

Now Inej knew she wasn’t imagining the nerves spiking in his voice. Three cools was a little excessive. Even for Nikolai.

The room pulsed with palpable excitement, as Genya and Alina dragged Zoya upward and they began to part her hair out of her face.

“I don’t see why this is necessary,” Zoya grumbled, as Genya flitted around her, insisting on throwing various different jackets on her shoulders. “It’s probably not even going to be cute. Watch him show me a new map or something.”

“Girl, please.”

Campus looked different after hours, when the paths were lit by strings of lights that occasionally flickered yellow. It was probably a result of the electric bill, but Inej liked to think that it was magic.

They probably looked stupid, sneaking out in their assorted pyjamas, but Inej felt that it only added to the effect. They trailed through to the garden, whispering theories about how Nikolai was going to confess (“Ten bucks he’s going to use something from Notting Hill.”) and picking up stray daisies on the way (Alina).

By the time they reached the entrance, Zoya looked ready to bolt.

“Don’t get too excited,” she muttered, biting her lip as though she was talking more to herself than the others. “It might be nothing.”

Inej thought of the time in tenth grade when Kaz had asked her to their first dance; the odd flip in her stomach and the resounding drop when he quickly tacked on, as friends, of course.

How quickly she had pasted on a smile, how she had learnt to tread carefully with her knotted hopes, even when Jesper told her that Kaz had practiced asking the question no less than ten times. How she had spent the entire evening drawing further and back, afraid to fall off the tightrope with no net to catch her. How she had been so preoccupied with the buzz of her own insecurity that she had spilled juice on her cardigan. How Kaz had draped his own jacket around her shoulders with pink cheeks; how there was nothing she could have done to keep the warmth from spilling into her chest.

Could it be possible?

Jesper had told her once, when Kaz had gone away for a month; the longest they had ever been separated. Jordie was in the hospital again; the lung cancer was back and spreading. Kaz had booked a one-way ticket, unsure of how bad it would get, unsure of when—if he could come back. 

There was no need, but Jesper and Inej spent their nights in the club out of habit.

Then, after the patrons had gone, and they could no longer pretend that he was going to fill their empty seat, Jesper had looked at her and said: You know he loves you, right?

I’m his conscience, Inej had joked weakly. The ache in her chest widened at night, when she thought of Kaz most. Of course I know.

Jesper had looked at her with an unreadable expression; mouth set in a half-smile. Inej, I love you, but I don’t think you do.

Inej couldn’t be sure, but she knew what Kaz would say.

Anything is possible in Ketterdam.  

“It might,” Inej said, meeting Zoya’s wavering gaze with her own. It seemed that for at least one night, their positions were reversed. “But it could be something. Something more.”

 “You owe it to yourself to try,” Inej said, swallowing. “Don’t you think?”

“I—”

“Zoya,” Nikolai said, materializing in the dorkiest outfit he had ever worn out in public; a T-shirt with a historical pun and jogging pants. Inej had thought he was too dignified and princely to own a pair. His ordinarily perfect crown of hair was rumpled and disheveled, no doubt from attempts to tear it out in lovesick agony. “…And girls?”

“We were just dropping her off,” Inej said, sending Nikolai a discrete grin as she beckoned at the rest of the girls to follow her with a newfound bravado. Okay, so maybe Kaz had been a little right about the fun part. “Be safe, have fun tonight!”

“Wait,” Alina said, scurrying beside her as she led them behind a strip of imposing, dark green foliage that looked like it had been stolen off the set of Maleficent. “Are we really leaving?”

Thanks to some wealthy donors, there was a stone bench perched below. Perfect for sitting with a lover. Or spying on some.

With silent steps and a nimble jump, Inej sprung up on the bench and grinned.

“Not quite.”

With the stealth of a cheer team, the rest of the girls followed suit, and with careful heads, they peered above the leaves to spy on the pair sitting in the centre of the garden. Inej was in the midst of admiring the symmetry of the blooms lain on either side, when something else caught her eye.

Kaz Brekker and a row of boys: Jesper, Wylan, David, Tamar and hilariously enough, Matthias, squished together on the opposite hedge.

“What’s he doing here,” Nina grumbled, as though she didn’t purposely take the long way to the Psychology Building in order to have an excuse to pass by the gym.

it’s happening.gif

Kaz Brekker

You absolute dork

Inej Ghafa

i didn’t come out here to be attacked

Kaz Brekker

Below them, Nikolai inched half a centimeter toward the girl in front of him.

“So, uh, about that thing,” Nikolai said, his knee slightly bouncing up and down as though he was going to combust if he didn’t get it out of his system.

“Is it those pants?” Zoya joked, though Inej could hear the slight hitch in her voice. “Because honestly, I would have brought my phone if I’d known.”

“It’s casual fashion,” Nikolai said, huffing, but his lips were pulled into an open grin. His hazel eyes never once left her face. “Look, I just wanted…I wanted to give you this. I was talking to Kaz and I found this little shop that sells them downtown. They’re a special kind that grow year-round, apparently.”

The dim lighting made it difficult to see what the small, crinkled package was, but Nina’s eyes were hawklike. No one could ever cheat at cards with her at the table.

“It’s sunflower seeds,” she whispered, hands clasped together excitedly.

“So that you can always…have a piece of summer with you,” Nikolai said, watching attentively for her reaction.

Ah. Well done, Nikolai, Inej thought, shaking her head. She thought of her mother, of the way she had tucked her in at night and told her to wait for the boy that would remember her favourite flowers.

As though she couldn’t help herself, she lifted her gaze to find Kaz, who had an uncanny knack for anticipating her in a way that no one else could.

Would he…?

Zoya didn’t say anything for a moment, and Nikolai began to tap his foot nervously. “I mean…it’s your favourite, right?”

When Zoya looked back up at him, her face was open and plain with the truth.

“You’re my favourite,” she admitted, and Nikolai grinned so brightly that it could have illuminated even the darkest parts of space.

Nikolai gently laced his hand in hers. His voice was warm with affection as he leaned in, gazing at her as though she was the ocean. “Oh, really?”

“Don’t make me take it back,” Zoya said, warningly, though the unmistakable quirk of her lips gave her away.

Nikolai only beamed further. “Tell me, what is it exactly about me that drew you in, though? Was it my angelic voice, or my hair…”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Nikolai said, and so she grabbed the collar of his T-shirt and did just that.

Above them, the heavy clouds cleared, and the moon winked through, as though it too, wanted to witness the marvel of two people telling each other they were in love.

3. wish that i had / a girl worth fighting for / think of instead / a girl worth fighting for

Kaz didn’t want to admit it, but there was a part of him that was almost…looking forward to Operation: Malina.

Not that he was enjoying all of these feelsy conversations. It was probably because it was easy. Yeah, Kaz thought, as he jotted their names down, that was it.

Unlike the other two pairs, they had already spent more than half of their lives doting on each other. Mal wasn’t as unsure of his status with Alina as Genya, and although Alina had once learned chess just to spite Nikolai after he had commented that he assumed she would find it boring, she was (thankfully) nowhere near as stubborn as Zoya.

Their soft hearts only made it easier.

Plus, it gave him an excuse to enact what was secretly one of his favourite tropes—if he had to, you know, pick one—from the great tradition of romantic comedies.

“So, you’re going to…ask him some questions while Alina happens to walk by?”

Inej’s face was hidden behind her laptop, but her tone was fraught with a disbelief that only made Kaz more determined to illustrate the simple genius of the plan.

“Not just any questions, obviously,” Kaz said, in a duh tone that made her purposely flick eraser bits in his general vicinity, which, Inej. “The Question: what do you look for in a partner?”

“And this is going to expose his feelings for Alina because…”

“Because he’s going to describe her and Alina will catch on, and they’ll realize how daft they’ve been for the last fifteen years,” Kaz said, drolly. “And Alina will give me that Kerch collector’s map as a token of her gratitude.”

Inej merely hummed, and tilted the laptop to the side so that he could see the full extent of her skepticism. Her mouth curled into an almost troublesome smirk; something that made his pulse feel a little bit electric.

“And how exactly are you going to ensure that Alina catches on?” Inej drawled. “Considering the fact that Mal has in fact, openly called her a variation of ‘love’, ‘sunshine’ and ‘life partner’, and Alina has not, in fact, ‘caught on’.”

Kaz sputtered as Inej grinned, victorious, and returned back to her paper on the symbolism of flowers in Hamlet. He felt the undeniable urge to swivel her laptop around and pester her further.

Inej had felt…different since that night.

She had always teased him, of course, but now it felt strange, like there was a secret lurking beneath her easy words. Sometimes, Kaz caught her looking at him, eyes soft and intense all at once, and for no sensible reason that he could think of.

There wasn’t a logical reason, really, unless she had suddenly decided to abandon her plans as an English major (soon to be Master’s candidate) and become a painter.

“Well, there is another way to ensure success,” Kaz said, ignoring her protests and tugging her laptop away. “Since you did so well with Zoya.”

Kaz hadn’t realized how close their faces would be, as they both lunged across the table, each holding onto the keyboard. The pads of her fingers lightly pressed against his cold hands.

“Kaz,” Inej said, so close that he could smell the faint scent of her last cup of black coffee, so close he could see the stray eyelash that dusted her cheek. They were supposedly for wishes, she insisted. Kaz didn’t much believe in such things, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting foolish things. “I’m going to—”

“Hm?”

Kaz didn’t realize that it was gone until it was too late.

“Kill you,” Inej finished, grabbing the laptop back with a firm tug. She typed for a good five minutes as Kaz let her stew in silence before she groaned and threw him a heated glare.

She pressed two fingers to her temple.

“What exactly would I have to do?”

Kaz smirked. 

Malyen ‘Mal’ Oretsev had an interesting reputation. He was Ketterdam’s favourite linebacker (‘The Tracker’; Alina’s ‘first love’ (“I meant as a friend!” “Alina, no one means first love like that.”). Much to everyone’s shock and horror, he was also the guy that dated Zoya for a brief disastrous part of high school that Genya declared a hazy fever dream.

Despite the fact that he had once forced them all to watch Marley and Me for his movie pick and his honestly, horrendous—seriously, slides with a poncho?—fashion taste, Mal was one of the few people that Kaz could label as genuinely good. He greeted everyone, including people whom he had only spoken to in class once for the wifi password, with a hearty ‘how’s it going!’ and a goofy smile that inevitably got goofier around Alina.

“Hey, Kaz!” Mal said brightly, as he exited the locker room with a wet towel around his neck. Kaz hoped for both of their sakes that it was water. “How’s it going?”

“Well,” Kaz said, mentally rehearsing the conversation that he had plotted last night. He realized belatedly that Mal had misinterpreted his grammar for a pause. “It’s going well, I mean.”

“Oh, awesome,” Mal said, laughing good-naturedly as they began to walk across the blessedly empty field. As someone who was allergic to turf and athletics, Kaz didn’t think he had ever even walked across the grass. “You know, if you ever wanna learn how to swim, I got my lifeguard certification in grade 12.” 

“Tempting,” Kaz said, with a grimace that looked anything but.

Mal smiled kindly, as though he understood and shrugged easily. “No pressure, man. Swimming can be like, scary as hell.”

Kaz side-eyed him. “Says the lifeguard.”

“Well, I wasn’t always,” Mal pointed out, huffing. His lips settled into a nostalgic smile, as though running over a memory with his fingertips. “The day that we had to go into the deep end for the first time, I like, cried cause I got so freaked out I couldn’t breathe underwater.”

Kaz raised his brow but didn’t say anything, and waited for the other boy to gather his words.

“Alina was way faster than me,” Mal said, chuckling. “She could have shot up to the advanced levels, but she didn’t want to leave me in the deep end alone. So she pretended like she was scared too.”

“Then how did you stop drowning?”

Mal didn’t pause for a second, his voice as warm as a meadow.  

“She taught me how to float.”

By then, they had reached the patch of grass where Nikolai, Jesper, Wylan, David and Matthias were sitting, pointedly disregarding the blood-red NO EATING sign tacked on the side.

“Zoya really destroyed that man’s whole career,” Jesper was saying, laughing as he wiped tears away from his eyes.

“Morozova?” Mal said hopefully.

They all hated him to varying degrees, but Mal’s still simmering anger stemmed from something personal because it involved Alina.

Kaz hadn’t been friends with him then, but he made a point of knowing the rumours that ran around Ketterdam—that Mal had nearly gotten his athletic scholarship taken away after he’d barged into Morozova’s office and confronted him, that he had nearly threw a punch after learning of how the older man had taken advantage of his power as a professor.

“Nyet,” David said, unironically, reminding Kaz that he and Nikolai had first met in Russian History.

Kaz shook his head. Was the course that good? It was strange how many people he now voluntarily spent free time with who also happened to be obsessed with Tsar times. 

“One of Vasily’s dumbass friends,” Wylan corrected, as he snagged the last pizza slice under Jesper’s nose right as he was about to take a bite. “He was saying some crap about Nikolai’s bio dad before the debate and Zoya destroyed him so bad that he left crying.”

“My girlfriend kicks ass,” Nikolai said dreamily. With his head tipped back under the sun, he looked even more like a king—young and brilliant and invincible. There was only one person who had power over him.

Power.

That was the steep price of love, but it didn’t seem like he was too concerned about paying it. Ever since they had officially gotten together, Nikolai had turned up to every shift with moony love songs, a floral scent and a lighter gait, as though he had been released from the burden of fear—of being alone. Or maybe of being with someone who wasn’t Zoya.

Somehow, he had let go of the tight strings wound around the mirage of himself that he had spent years spinning.

Kaz wondered if he could ever do the same.

“Wait, Wylan,” Jesper said, with exaggerated shock. “Did you just say a bad word?”

Wylan reddened, and with a mouth full of cheese, mumbled something that sounded vaguely like shut the f up. It wasn’t like him to curse, but it seemed that they were indeed teaching him things around the Barrel. Or at least, Jesper was. It hadn’t escaped Kaz’s notice that they had become strangely attached to each other. More than once he had heard them bickering as they waited in line for whatever mediocre stew special was available at lunch, or walked into the booth where Jesper did his radio show to find Wylan playing the flute as Jesper watched him with as much undivided concentration as he reserved for his targets.

But that was for another day.

“Speaking of girlfriends,” Kaz drawled, casting Nikolai a meaningful look. The blonde boy sat up and winked, mouth spreading in an eager smile. He had been the easiest to convince to partake in this little intervention.

Kaz didn’t doubt that it was partially to make up for the brief but uncomfortable period wherein he and Mal had felt unreasonably threatened by the other and played the most aggressive two man game of Slap Jack that Kaz had ever had the misfortune of witnessing.

“What do you guys look for in a partner?” Nikolai asked, all casual. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious for me.”

“Someone pretty and scary!” 

“Someone that can kick your ass?”

“Someone cooler than you.”

“All valid points,” Nikolai acknowledged, taking it in stride. “But I mean, I guess for me it’s like…someone who’s not afraid to be honest with me. Someone that I can be the most honest version of myself with.” 

There was a hushed silence for a moment, as the sincerity in Nikolai’s voice stripped away any doubts that he was completely in love with her. Kaz hoped Zoya liked rings, because Kaz was willing to bet 20 million kruge that she could expect a proposal in the future.

And so they went around the circle as though they were in elementary school, still young enough to not feel ashamed to be open with their heart’s truest, hidden desires, each having a different answer to what the question was really asking, which was: what kind of person do you want to love? What kind of person do you want to love you?

“Genya,” was all David said, smiling slightly when they let out an obligatory aww.

Much to Kaz’s horror, there was a feminine aww that trailed in the air for a moment before Inej likely shut them up.

“Did you hear that?” Mal wondered aloud, eyebrows furrowing.

“It was Wylan,” Jesper blurted out. “He’s practicing for…uh…the opera! He’s a really good singer, you know?”

“Wait, really?”

Wylan flushed, scrambling as he basked a little in Jesper’s genuine praise.  “Yes? Uh. I took voice lessons when I was younger.”

“Rich kid,” Jesper teased, elbowing him in the side and grinning even as the boy retaliated with his own. “Anyway. Matty, boy, tell me what you want, what you really, really want.”

“Someone brave,” Matthias said vaguely, though Kaz knew he was thinking of Nina, the bravest of them all.

“I want someone annoying,” Jesper offered, with a cryptic grin. Beside him, Wylan shifted, making a concentrated effort not to look too curious.

“I don’t understand,” Matthias admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. It was perhaps the only thing that he and Kaz would ever agree on.

“Cause I’m annoying,” Jesper explained. “-ly charming! No, but seriously—uh—I guess I just want…someone that I can be my most annoying, dumb, weird self with. That isn’t going to get sick of me.”

“And someone that I can watch Nicole Kidman movies with, of course.”

When there was silence, Kaz realized belatedly that they were all waiting for him. Mal shot him a thumbs up. Bloody hell.

“What about you, Kaz?”

It could have been his wishful thinking, but Kaz was fairly certain he had heard a metal clang of surprise from the bleachers. He imagined Inej, already in position with Alina, and wondered what she was thinking; what she expected him to say.

Of course, Inej did not usually have to guess with Kaz because she knew. Somehow, she had uncovered the boy he thought had died with his parents. The parts of him he imprinted on his body; the cursive R, the ace of spades. Even when she was hidden, Kaz could not hide from her. This was not a surprise. What was a surprise was that he did not want to hide.

“Someone that I trust to watch my back,” Kaz said finally, as the boys leaned in eagerly. “Someone who doesn’t mind ugliness, who isn’t afraid of the dark. Someone whom I would never tire of seeing, for their sight would bring me the comfort of nightfall. Someone to share hot chocolate with in every season. Someone I trust with all my bloody passwords.”

There were some chuckles at the last one, but mostly awed reactions as the boys attempted to process what was undoubtably the most amount of emotion that Kaz Rietzfeld had ever shown in the last four years. Wylan looked a little teary-eyed.

“You should write poetry,” Nikolai murmured, a knowing glimmer in his eye. Kaz was reminded of the phrase he had heard Nina and the others whisper during tryouts. Like calls to like.

“Yeah, I mean that was…that was fricken deep, man.”

“A best friend,” David surmised, once again proving why he was the best boy. “That is what you mean, correct?”

Kaz nodded and tried to quell the urge to throw up as he thought of Inej recoiling or running from his words. He had had spent all night spinning different scripts that would prompt Mal to ruminate over his own feelings. It needed to be somewhat authentic, of course. Mal wasn’t the type to respond to pretty, folded up flattery or stilted dialogue.

But it wasn’t necessary for Kaz to go as hard as he had. And yet in the span of one minute he had taken the safety net that he and Inej had meticulously crafted for themselves through stolen glances and quick denials. It was a risk. Kaz typically loathed risk with unforeseen consequences. With trembling hands, he had begun to undo the wires. But in Kaz’s eyes, Inej could walk on air.

So Kaz cleared his throat and finished the job. “Friendship is, after all, essential to a successful relationship, is it not?”

Kaz hadn’t called out Mal, exactly, except he totally had.

Gone was his easy, guileless grins and confident beams. Mal looked as though he was seriously contemplating his entire life and then some. A life which had been lived alongside Alina. It was a fact Kaz knew from their impressive amount of TBT alone.

“What about you Mal? What are you looking for?”

There was a sharp inhale, then, one that Jesper valiantly attempted to hide with a belated gasp of his own.

“This is just…a really dramatic moment? Ow—Wy!”

“My True North,” Mal said, though he was no longer looking at them. “My best friend.”

Surprising everyone, he got up and strode to the hiding space where Alina was meekly crouched. He held out a hand and grinned as she sheepishly took it and stepped into the light.

“You didn’t have to hide, you know,” Mal said, brushing dirt off of her cheek. “You could have just asked.”

“I was always afraid that if I asked,” Alina admitted, their normally bubbly tone settled into something more still, something more grounded. Her eyes were wet with tears. “…You wouldn’t say me.”

“Alina,” Mal said, tugging them into his arms with a gentleness that would shock his opponents. A softness that he reserved for the earth and its creatures, a love that he had been saving his entire life to give. “There is no one for me but you.”

By then, the boys were cheering and exchanging wads of cash that had been stockpiled since first year. There were distracting flashes that came from photos that were sure to get a well-deserved amount of likes on Instagram. A perfect scene of a job well done.

There was nothing that pleased Kaz more than the sight of his success, but in that moment, Kaz could only look at Inej.