“What are you grinning about?” Linden asked as he finished packing away his crafting materials.
“Just thinking that it might be nice to be someone else for a night,” I admitted, running my finger along one of the delicate vines of the mask. “No siren curse, no Dean’s office, no worrying about accidentally enchanting someone.”
“That’s the spirit!” Linden stood up, stretching his massive frame until his fingers nearly brushed the ceiling. The golden patterns on his green skin caught the light as he moved. “Andwho knows, maybe you’ll meet some hot guy who doesn’t immediately fall in love with you because of your voice.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, because my sparkling personality is such a draw.”
“It is when you’re not being an ass,” Linden countered with a grin. “Which admittedly isn’t often, but still.”
I threw a pillow at him, which he caught effortlessly. Damn tree-man reflexes.
“So what are you going as?” I asked, changing the subject. “Please tell me you’re not just going to show up as yourself and claim you’re in costume.”
Linden laughed. “No, though that would be the easiest option.” He walked over to his closet and pulled out what looked like a bundle of moss and leaves. “I’m going as the Green Man. Ancient forest deity, guardian of the wild places. Pretty on-brand for me.”
“Very on-brand,” I agreed. “So we’ll both be wearing masks of living plants. People might think we planned it.”
“Would that be so terrible?” Linden asked, his voice suddenly softer. “Being associated with me?”
I looked up, surprised by his tone. “What? No. That’s not what I meant at all.” I studied his face, trying to read his expression. “You know you’re basically the only person I can stand in this place, right?”
The tension in his shoulders eased, and his smile returned. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me. At least until graduation.”
“Lucky me,” I said dryly, but I meant it more than I let on.
We fell into a comfortable silence as we got ready for bed. I changed into my sleep shorts and an old t-shirt while Linden did his nightly ritual of watering the various plants that crowded his side of the room. When he finished, he dimmed the lights and climbed into bed.
“Night, Nerion,” he called softly.
“Night,” I replied, settling under my covers.
As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts returned to the mask and the upcoming party. For once, I found myself actually looking forward to something social. Maybe it was the promise of anonymity, or maybe it was just Linden’s infectious enthusiasm, but something about this Halloween party felt different. Like maybe, just maybe, something good might come of it.
Of course, with my luck, it would probably end in disaster. But for now, I allowed myself to hope otherwise.
Morning came too quickly,with Linden shaking me awake before the sun had fully risen. I groaned and tried to burrow deeper into my blankets, but he was persistent.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” he urged, already fully dressed in what I called his “forest clothes”. They were loose pants and a vest that left most of his green skin exposed to the sunlight. He looked like a hippie yoga instructor. “We need to get going if we want to catch the sunrise at The Grove.”
“I’m regretting this already,” I mumbled, but forced myself to sit up. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. “Give me five minutes.”
I dressed quickly in jeans and a hoodie, grabbing my water bottle and stuffing a granola bar in my pocket. Linden was practically bouncing with excitement by the door.
“You’re way too chipper for this hour,” I grumbled as we made our way down the quiet hallway.
“It’s my natural state,” he replied cheerfully. “Besides, I always feel more energetic when I know I’m going home.”
I glanced at him as we stepped outside into the cool pre-dawn air. “You really miss it, don’t you?”
Linden nodded, his expression growing more serious. “It’s part of me. The longer I’m away, the more I feel... stretched thin. Like I’m fading a little bit each day.” He flexed his fingers, examining the green skin. “You’ve noticed how my color gets duller when it’s been too long.”
I had noticed. The vibrant emerald of his skin would gradually dull to a muted olive if he went too long without returning to his forest. The golden patterns would fade until they were barely visible. It was subtle, but unmistakable once you knew what to look for.
“That’s why these trips are so important,” he continued as we walked toward the edge of campus where the academy’s protective enchantments ended. “It’s not just a visit home. It’s... maintenance.”
“Like refilling your magical batteries,” I offered.
“Exactly.” He smiled, grateful for my understanding. “What about you? Do you ever miss the ocean that way?”