The Ruens of Fairstone (Aeon of Light Book 2) by Aron Sethlen Page B

think you should ask her, or I wouldn’t be asking you.”
    Pard sits up and slams his book shut. “After what happened in the library the other day? No way will she ever go with me, or even talk to me for that matter. I made a complete mess of myself.”
    “So what. Guys make messes of themselves all the time. Girls are used to it. You should ask her to the dance.”
    “ Umm , didn’t you hear me? Because I made an idiot of myself, and she probably hates me.”
    Miles chuckles. “ Hate you ? Hey, professor, a little inside information here, we all make idiots of ourselves. It’s what we do best, sometimes the more the idiot the better. Just look at me.”
    Pard scans Miles’s smug but lovable face. “True, maybe you have something there. But still, I’m not a lord, or, well, you. I’m me.”
    “Can’t argue with you on that point, but still, you have a lot of great qualities she might like, you just have to show her.”
    Pard rolls his eyes. “Like being unable to talk to girls, getting into trouble, about to be kicked out of school, making a complete fool of myself, and of course the extra special bonus of shooting light out of my body, being able to talk to horses, and do whatever I did to poor Nero the cat. Yeah , right , I’m sure she’ll be real impressed with my abilities, then she’ll fetch the town’s constables on me, and they’ll lock me away for being a dangerous, wacko, menace, and Fairstone and the dance and Selby Barrow will be the least of my worries.”
    “Dang, professor, catastrophize much there?”
    “Huh?”
    “Never mind.” Miles shrugs. “Well, if it’s any consolation, the horse and light thing impressed me.”
    Pard gives Miles a blank stare. “And because you’re a complete weirdo and think the light is cool, Selby Barrow will be impressed.” Pard snorts. “Right.” Pard lowers his head into his hands and mumbles incoherent words.
    “No—but still.” Miles rolls off the bed and lands gracefully on his feet. His face beams with energy. “Come on, let’s go.”
    Pard looks up, and his eyes narrow. “ What ? Go where?”
    Miles snatches Pard’s cloak off the post in the corner of the room and tosses it on Pard’s head. “Get dressed, let’s go.”
    Pard fumbles the cloak stuck on the top of his head as it gets tangled from him trying to remove it too fast.  
    Miles, serious and now the teacher, examines what he has to work with. He stares at Pard. “Playing the klutzy, goofy card, eh? It might work with her. But I would use a different strategy if I were you. Though you never know with those girls who always hang out in the library.”
    Pard springs out of his chair and flaps his arms trying to get his knotted cloak off his head and shoulders. Pard finally rips off his bindings and stands in front of Miles, red face, out of breath, and hair twisted and sticking up in every direction except for how it’s supposed to lay. “Don’t play about. We aren’t going to the library right now—it’s too late.” He glances at his rickety old wooden clock on his desk. “It’s already eight.”
    “Yeah, so what.” Miles flicks his head toward the door. “You need a date to the dance, don’t you?”
    “The dance is three weeks after my expulsion. What if I get kicked out? Then I can’t go to the dance.”
    “But what if she says yes?”
    “But I’d be kicked out, what would she think of me?”
    “But what if she says yes?”
    “But—”
    “Oh my gosh, will you shut up. Let’s worry about her saying yes before all the other crap.”
    “But—”
    Miles unleashes his best devilish smile and creeps closer to Pard. And as if trying to tame a skittish animal, he gently slips the cloak out of Pard’s hands, opens it, and swings it over Pard’s head and shoulders. He talks in a soft, sweet voice, whispering calmly in Pard’s ear, “Get girl first, worry about the other stuff that may or may not happen later.”
    As if a lost puppy dog, Pard gazes up at