Daughter of the Earth and Sky by Kaitlin Bevis Page B

had plans. We’d live in the apartment above the shop and go to UGA. It was going to be perfect. Why give that up to move to Iowa?
    “I like their creative writing program. It’s the best in the country.”
    “You still write?” I asked, surprised. I sat on her bed, pulling my knees under me. “Since when?”
    “I never stopped. Not since that creative writing class.”
    I grimaced. I’d hated that class. Creative writing was one of the few things I was bad at. For an agonizing month, I’d tried to put some kind of a story down on paper, but it had never happened. In retrospect, I realized it was because I can’t lie. Storytelling requires lies, or, at the very least, exaggerations. For as many myths as the gods inspire, we couldn’t tell one to save our lives.
    Melissa had dropped out of the class the same week I had. I’d always figured her interest ended there, too. I winced and fought off the sudden urge to hit my head on the doorframe. Of course Melissa dropped out the same week I did. That had been her job. I’d always taken it for granted that we were always in the same classes, clubs, and activities, but she’d known the whole time that she was my priestess and so we were to share the same interests. Of course, we hadn’t always done what I wanted. Melissa could talk me into just about anything, but creative writing was where I’d drawn the line.
    I felt sick. My friend stopped taking a class that she’d been interested in because of me. How many times had that happened? How often had she missed out on something she wanted because of me?
    Melissa was looking down at her green and white quilt, picking at stray threads while I sorted my thoughts.
    “I’m so sorry,” I said finally.
    She waved a hand. “You didn’t know. And it didn’t bother me, not really. I hadn’t thought about it in years, but after…” She trailed off for a moment and swallowed hard. “You know, the Boreas thing.” When she died. “I just felt this need to write, you know? To get it all down. So I’ve been doing that.” Her words came faster and faster, tripping over each other in their haste. “And I joined this writers group online, and it’s been really great and really fun, and they think my stuff is good. I want to learn more about it. Writing helps. With what happened, it helped so much, and they said this place is the best. So I was just wondering, did you want to go there?”
    “To Iowa?”
    Her thin shoulders slumped. “It’s fine. UGA has a graduate program. I can just wait and—”
    “Melissa, you should still apply.”
    She sighed, looking defeated. “Mom won’t let me. My place is with you, remember?”
    For a second I felt relieved. I didn’t want Melissa to go away to college. I wanted her to stay with me. We were best friends. I needed her. But that was so selfish. Melissa wanted to go somewhere else. She shouldn’t be stuck here because of some holy duty to me.
    “And you’re letting that stop you? You’re the one who can lie. Apply anyway.” I rolled my eyes for good measure. “When you get in, we’ll find a way to make it work. Don’t we have a whole bunch of priestesses in Iowa?”
    She gave me a hug. “Thank you for understanding. I was so worried you would be mad. Mom might change her mind if I actually get in.” She pulled away to look at me. “So, school starts next week, and I have a plan.”
    “What’s that?” I sat on the bed.
    “You should charm everyone into thinking we’re there and maybe throw in good grades from the teachers. We could do whatever we wanted all day. No one would know.”
    I shook my head. “I’m not charming people if I don’t have to. It’s wrong.”
    “Oh, come on! You hate school!”
    “It’s not my favorite thing, but I don’t hate it.” I gave her an embarrassed smile and fiddled with my necklace. “I’m actually kind of looking forward to it.”
    Melissa leaned back. “Why?”
    I leaned against the headboard and looked up at the