Beni was trying valiantly to act like she hadn't been watching us [https://em.wattpad.com/938afb32b067cf21d370add40743d506a2ecc903/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4945314f7a5738703255304231413d3d2d3931393838343630382e313632313535613530363439396334323238333736333231363732342e706e67?s=fit&w=720&h=720]

Beni was trying valiantly to act like she hadn’t been watching us. By the way she was vibrating in place, I knew she had.

A building with a sparkling white edifice had set up a table with a clipboard, some baseball caps, and a bunch of those little buttons you pin to your chest. Behind the table sat a girl so stunning, she almost put Beni’s old Andorran charm to shame.

The girl’s hair was a sunny blonde shot through with expertly spaced white-gold highlights. A heart shaped face was perfectly set off with eyes so icy blue she looked perpetually aloof. ZO proclaimed a sticker on her chest.

Beni was standing a few feet away from the table and the supermodel manning it.

“Here, babe,” she said, handing me a hat with the RU logo on the front. “Put this on backwards.”

“Like this?” Feeling ridiculous, I smashed it down over my unruly mop. Curls waved out from beneath the perimeter, misbehaving even in a hat.

“Your look is complete.” Her voice was slightly higher pitched than normal, and I was seized with an evil urge to see how long until she cracked. If she was going to pretend she hadn’t seen the kiss, so was I.

“Don’t forget your buttons,” said the blonde girl in an old Hollywood starlet’s butterscotch rasp.

I saw now that the pins were printed. He/Him, She/Her, and They/Them were the three options, though the last one didn’t make any sense to me.

“They?” I held one up. “Why would you need one button for multiple people?”

“Because you don’t,” said the girl. “They is used in places of mixed or uncertain gender. In English, that usually means plural usage, but singular they goes back as far as Shakespeare. Gender fluid or gender neutral people often use they/them as a personal pronoun, and our school welcomes people regardless of gender identity or expression.”

“...Oh.” I set the button down. “Guess that’s why you go to school, right, to learn new things?”

“Right,” Zo said, flicking her eyes over me.

“Come on, honey.” Beni rescued me. “Our group’s over there.”

“Let’s go,” I said, and started off.

“So what was that all about?” she asked in a low voice as we walked away.

“Sorry, I didn’t know singular they was a thing--”

“Not that!” She hissed. “What’s going on with you and Evan?”

That was fast. Smothering a smile, innocent me said, “I don’t know what you could mean.”

Her eyes flashed, but we reached our tour and she couldn’t respond. I counted it as a win anyway. Wasn’t often Beni was rendered speechless, even by circumstance. Just to be cheeky, I laced our fingers together and sent her a dopey lover’s smile. Her response was more of a baring of teeth, and I had to laugh.

“Hey guys,” came a masculine voice from behind. “Can I get your attention, so we can get started?” We turned, and my breath caught. I didn’t think this guy had any problems holding anyone’s attention.

Approaching us was one of the few men I’d ever seen who was almost as pretty as Evan. They even looked a little alike, though wildly different. Each shared a similar jet black hair color, but then they diverged.

This man’s features were broader, almost Slavic, higher cheekbones and wider forehead. Where Evan’s frame eventually nipped in at the waist, the vision before me was solid all the way down like a well-drawn superhero. (But in a good way, not a gross nineties comics way.) Their biggest difference was in the eyes: not Evan’s heartbreaking seaglass, but a playful chocolate.

In fact, this guy was too good looking, he had to be Damned. Only, I saw no tell-tale blue circle of contacts covering vampire black. This was another reason for our observational training. Staring deeply enough into someone’s eyes to scan for lenses would probably get weird if you couldn’t do it in a split second.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

To anyone observing, me turning to look at him would seem completely normal, just like everyone else in the tour. Our eyes met only for an instant as he looked out over the group.

But somehow, I got the strangest feeling, he noticed me, too.

“My name is Ira,” that deep voice said, like he was speaking straight to me. “And I’ll be your tour guide today.”

Beni squeezed my hand, and I saw her ever-so-slightly tip her head in his direction. So she was having similar thoughts. Could it really be that easy? Literally the first person we met on campus was Damned? Then again, what was better than their effortlessly beguiling nature to increase school attendance?

It was unlikely a vampire old enough to hide his eyes without contacts could still walk in the sun, but not completely impossible. We needed a way to find out for sure, but until then it was time for Beni and I to put on a show.

At the same time I slid my arm around her waist, she tossed hers around my neck, and then we were standing too close together like those disgusting, clingy couples.

“So before we begin,” he said, pointing to the sign-in table. “This is the two o’clock general tour for prospective students. If you’re looking for a specific department tour, they’re listed over there. Just ask my lovely girlfriend, Zo, and she’ll hook you up...

“I don’t see anyone leaving, so I'm going to assume we’re all in the right place. Or your anxiety makes it too embarrassing to leave, which, same.” He grinned, and a couple people chuckled. “Well, whatever reason you’re here, I’m glad to have you, and happy you’re thinking about Ru.” (He also said it ‘rue,’ like Cami had at the blood draw.)

“Our first stop is right here.” He spread his arms, arms buff enough to stretch the fabric of his t-shirt just enough without being in danger of splitting the material. “The main entrance is one of our oldest endowments. Given in 1900 by one Mrs. Dorothy Vale, whose son tragically passed away before he could start classes here. In his honor she donated not just the money for the project, but also several tons of white marble from her family’s personal quarry.

“She had only two stipulations.” He gestured to the white building beyond the sign-in table. “One, that the stone be used to make a building that was actually for the young people and not the prestige of the college itself. Thus we still use this as the main hall of the Student Union to this day. And two, that a memorial angel be installed in honor of her son. That’s in the student courtyard, which we’ll get to later.

“Fun fact: in the earliest writings, angels are depicted as neither male nor female, just like some people aren’t.” He jingled the He/Him button on his shirt. “We don’t judge based on gender around here, either. All right, this way now.”

Ira led us away from the union hall, up a small road where the buildings got markedly more modern.

“There’s quite a few moving stories like Mrs. Vale’s in Ru’s history,” he continued. “We’re a small community that looks out for one another, but let’s focus on something you guys will actually care about.” He wasn’t heated, just rueful. “This block was just finished last year, part of a multi-million dollar reno intended to deck us out in the latest technological advances. A brand new computer lab, remote conferencing rooms, and a rec center with all the latest video game platforms were all included in the contract. We’re all about combining the best of traditional education, with all the high-tech bells and whistles students need and expect.”

We went around the perimeter of the main campus with Ira’s deep, easy voice making an otherwise standard tour worth listening to. From what little I knew of ‘higher education’ Rossberg University seemed pretty typical.

As we walked, Beni and I hammed it up. We were constantly touching, simpering at each other, walking with our hands in each other’s back pockets.

After about a half hour we came to a large grassy area, well tended, with benches and trees planted every few feet or so. In the middle, sunlight gleaming off the marble, was a stone angel.

“This is the memorial statue I told you guys about earlier.” He swept his hand over the space. “The non-denominational angel has become something of a mascot for the school, being dressed for spirit week, local traditionals, and all major holidays. It looks a little naked right now, but during the school year the poor thing never gets left alone. You may notice the stone of the angel is the same marble as the front of the building. That’s because we’ve ended where we began. This is the student courtyard, behind the union.

“And that’s the tour, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals. You guys can make your way back to the parking lot on this path or through the union.” He beamed out over the group. “Thank you so much for coming, and I hope to see you all back here this fall.”

I slowed as we passed the statue, something about the angel catching my eye. Its eyes were closed, head bowed, the wings bent inward around the body. In one hand it held a scroll, and a book was in the other. Then it hit me.

“Beni, look,” I said, slipping my hand out of her pocket to step closer.

“What?” She followed me.

“Can’t you see?” I kept my voice pitched low, to avoid attention. “It’s Raziel.”

She looked the angel over. “You sure?”

“The Angel of Secrets,” came at a pleasant voice at our backs.

We flinched, neither of us had heard Ira approach. Maybe he really was a vampire.

“Apparently Mrs. Vale considered education a mystery to be unraveled, not a gift to bestow.” He smiled, all friendly. “Raziel’s one of the more obscure ones. How did you recognize it?”

“Not that obscure,” I said. “I mean, not like Cassiel or something.” Instantly I wanted to kick myself. What dumb straight boy knew who the Angel of Tears was? “I, uh, come from a real religious family.”

Ira grinned. “That’s definitely a deep cut. He’s the one who cries over dead kings, yeah?”

“Not just kings,” I said. “Priests, prophets, sai--”

“So what’s there to do for fun around here?” Beni asked brightly, and I realized what I’d almost said. “If we decide to go here, we’re gonna need to blow off steam. When we’re not studying, of course. Right, baby?”

“Right, honey.” I put my arm around her shoulders.

“Well, officially I can tell you about the street dance tomorrow,” he said. “The whole town shows out--”

“And unofficially?” She canted her head up at him, a little flirty.

“I might know a certain responsible guy hosting a party at his family’s lake house afterwards,” he said smoothly. “Just so the people who are gonna party anyway do so safely.”

“Why, it’s practically a public service,” she drawled.

“You’ll both come right?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it, man,” I said.

“Here’s my number.” Snatching up my hand, he pulled out a marker and scribbled his digits on the back. “Text me after the festival. I’ll give you directions.”

“Yeah, I will,” I said.

“Well, gotta go get ready for the next tour.” With a jaunty salute, he wandered off.

When he was sufficiently out of earshot, even if he was Damned, Beni muttered to me, “Okay, he’s gotta be our guy, right? No human’s that pretty.”

“Let’s get back to Evan,” was all I said.