Blake’s dormitory is so different from my own. She has followed none of the standard rules, and I suspect that the inspectors hold no resentment towards her for that, because the mess in front of me is so utterly welcoming that I don’t hesitate to stride in.

The dormitories are all only two rooms: a bedroom, and a personal bathroom. Blake has—somehow—removed the mattress of the twin bed from it...

I look down and see Adrian yelling at me from the terrace. I am sitting on top of the North Tower, Mr. Potter’s history class being too painfully boring for me to bear, despite my unending love for knowledge. I needed to feel the wind on my face, the mountain air filling my lungs. It feels like Wales. Like home.

I sigh dramatically, as is my extremely strange talent. “Can’t you bother someone ...

You left me

You dropped me

Like a cigarette

Beneath your foot

So delicate

Aflame

Burning your fingers

Down to the core

You smoked me

When you were bored

And dropped me

When I became cold....

I stare at Blake, this girl, this being, made of fire and steel and strength, her emotions more powerful than the universe itself, as she looks up at me in the cold light of the library with deadened eyes. The beginnings of tears fill their grey depths like a murky ocean of anguish. She attempts a smile and fails, her head dropping suddenly to her chest. A drop of water falls from her eye, and I g...