chapter eight

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Eli needed to find Nora.

Needed to.

After running into her in the music room during Ariel's party, he'd snuck his way from the masses and had his car pick him up. Then, back at the palace, the most glorious thing happened.

He wrote. Like, actually had success with his current piece. That alone was a miracle.

He felt so refreshed after talking to her. As if everything around him looked new.

It wasn't a crush. He'd had a crush before—Stacy Willans in grade school—but this wasn't marked by any kind of chest warmth or sudden urge to kiss her. Instead, he simply wanted to talk to her.

It was...a friendship crush. He wanted Nora to be a friend. Could feel it in his gut that she could be one too. She hadn't looked at him the other day like he hung the stars or expected him to do something, pay for something, or be something he wasn't.

"Eli!"

"Eli, where are you going?"

"Guess what, Eli?"

He ignored the general calls and skated past groups of kids, his eyes peeled for that short caramel hair and black-rimmed glasses.

He didn't know anything about her. Not her last name, not what grade she was, not who she hung out with—except Tessa Greenfield. That would be his first mission: find Tessa. She'd know Nora's schedule and where her locker was. Or her favorite spots. Hell, maybe Tessa was with her right now. If he found Tessa he might find Nora too.

Then the left side of his brain caught up to him. Woah boy, slow down. You're trudging too quick.

Friendships weren't formed overnight. And, as much as he wanted to, he shouldn't plow full speed ahead. He couldn't seem too eager. That would scare her off. He needed to play it cool. Needed to calm down.

Then another part of him wondered—was this what all the rest of the kids felt like with him? This eagerness to be close?

It was...odd.

His footsteps slowed in the middle of the hallway. Classmates filtered around him, some giving him weird glances at him stopping in the middle of the hallway. But he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Eli!" A hand landed on his shoulder.

Ian peered up at him. His blond hair was getting way too long now, so much so it curled around his ears and he had to blink away the strands. While he preferred a shorter cut for himself, he knew Ian had a tendency to gravitate towards those longer locks. Eli'd seen Havana playing with one once when she'd visited the palace. Down in the den where they all hung out, she'd curved her arms around his little brother's neck and fiddled with the hair at the back of his neck. Maybe that was why Ian liked longer hair. Eli just didn't have the patience for it.

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