“Dark Matter? Dark Fire? What is this, the Big Bang for Casters?”

“What about Lilum? I’ve never heard of any of this, but then again, nobody tells me anything. I didn’t even know my own mother was alive.” She tried to sound sarcastic, but I could hear the pain in her voice.

“Maybe Lilum is an old word for Casters, or something.”

“The more I find out, the less I understand.”

And the less time we have.

Don’t say that.

The bell rang and I stood up. “You coming?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to stay out here a while longer.” Alone, in the cold. More and more, it was like that; she hadn’t even looked me in the eye since the Disciplinary Committee meeting, almost as if I were one of them. I couldn’t really blame her, considering the whole school and half the town had basically decided she was the institutionalized, bipolar child of a murderer.

“You better show up in class sooner or later. Don’t give Principal Harper any more ammunition.”

She looked back toward the building. “I don’t see how it matters now.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she was nowhere to be found. At least, if she was, she wasn’t listening. In chemistry, she wasn’t there for our quiz on the periodic table.

You’re not Dark, L. I would know.

In history, she wasn’t there while we reenacted the Lincoln-Douglas Debate, and Mr. Lee tried to make me argue the Pro-Slavery side, most likely as punishment for some future “liberally minded” paper I was bound to write.

Don’t let them get to you like this. They don’t matter.

In ASL, she wasn’t there while I had to stand up in front of the class and sign “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” while the rest of the basketball team just sat there, smirking.

I’m not going anywhere, L. You can’t shut me out.

That’s when I realized she could.

By lunch, I couldn’t take it anymore. I waited for her to come out of Trig and I pulled her over to the side of the hall, dropping my backpack to the floor. I took her face in my hands, and drew her in to me.

Ethan, what are you doing?

This.

I pulled her face into mine with both hands. When our lips touched, I could feel the warmth from my body seep into the coldness of hers. I could feel her body melting into mine, the inexplicable pull that had bound us together from the beginning, bringing us together again. Lena dropped her books and wrapped her arms around my neck, responding to my touch. I was becoming light-headed.

The bell rang. She pushed away from me, gasping. I bent down to pick up her copy of Bukowski’s Pleasures of the Damned and her battered spiral notebook. The notebook was practically falling apart, but then again, she’d had a lot to write about lately.

You shouldn’t have done that.

Why not? You’re my girlfriend, and I miss you.

Fifty-four days, Ethan. That’s all I have. It’s time to stop pretending we can change things. It’ll be easier if we both accept it.

There was something about the way she said it, like she was talking about more than just her birthday. She was talking about other things we couldn’t change.

She turned away, but I caught her arm before she could turn her back on me. If she was saying what I thought she was saying, I wanted her to look at me when she said it.

“What do you mean, L?” I almost couldn’t ask.

She looked away. “Ethan, I know you think this can have a happy ending, and for a while maybe I did, too. But we don’t live in the same world, and in mine, wanting something badly enough won’t make it happen.” She wouldn’t look at me. “We’re just too different.”

“Now we’re too different? After everything we’ve been through?” My voice was getting louder. A couple of people turned and stared at me. They didn’t even look at Lena.

We are different. You’re a Mortal and I’m a Caster, and those worlds might intersect, but they’ll never be the same. We aren’t meant to live in both.

What she was saying was she wasn’t meant to live in both. Emily and Savannah, the basketball team, Mrs. Lincoln, Mr. Harper, the Jackson Angels, they were all finally getting what they wanted.

This is about the disciplinary meeting, isn’t it? Don’t let them—

It isn’t just about the meeting. It’s everything. I don’t belong here, Ethan. And you do.

So now I’m one of them. Is that what you’re saying?

She closed her eyes and I could almost see her thoughts, tangled up in her mind.

I’m not saying you’re like them, but you are one of them. This is where you’ve lived your whole life. And after this is all over, after I’m Claimed, you’re still going to be here. You’re going to have to walk down these halls and those streets again, and I probably won’t be there. But you will, for who knows how long, and you said it yourself—people in Gatlin never forget anything.

Two years.

What?

That’s how long I’ll be here.

Two years is a long time to be invisible. Trust me, I know.

For a minute, neither of us said anything. She just stood there, pulling shreds of paper from the wire spine of her notebook. “I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of trying to pretend I’m normal.”

“You can’t give up. Not now, not after everything. You can’t let them win.”

“They already have. They won the day I broke the window in English.”