Tall, dark, and hot leaned against a pillar, watching me as I took my place in line. Tousled dark hair went every which way on his head. His eyes were slitted and intense, like he might need to have sex at any moment. Maybe even with me.

And then he winked.Jeez, I thought my heart would explode on the spot. The last time a guy winked at me was years ago, and that’d been a creepy mall Santa.

Surely there was at least one other girl on campus not sporting a French pedicure (do girls really think we’re fooled by the little white lines painted across their toenails?), who had some black in her wardrobe, and actually thought about things. You know, someone who knew the word French could imply more than just a way to kiss.

I am light and stardust in his hands.

Yay, science.

Observable Fact: I don’t believe in magic.Observable Fact: We are magic.

This," I say softly, "is going to change everything."I don't mean it the way I usually do.I don't mean that change is hard or scary, though it's definitely both.I mean only to say this: that sometimes, through good luck or bad, through curses or fate, the world cracks itself open, and afterward nothing will ever be the same.All I mean is that this seems like one of those times.

You are on my side," she says."What side is that?" I ask."The winning side," she says, and smiles. "The team of the artists.""Who are we playing?""The barbarians," she says. "We are always playing them.

I'm just as big a fool as the rest of them.

Until it has scared you with its endlessness, sky is just sky.