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Kira knows instinctively from a young age that the world is full of magic. She can feel it in the rush of wind before a strong spring storm, in the eerie, dry stillness just before the first snow falls. She doesn’t always have the words for it, to describe the way it itches under her skin, teased out in waves by the world around her. Things happen around her, sometimes, things she doesn’t realize she caused until she feels the exhaustion settle in.
She doesn’t get to learn the Latin spells and fancy wand work that English-speaking wizards use until she gets older, her dad tells her. He tells her about the laws that prevent it, and the risks, the silly and the dangerous stories about wizards who almost risked the exposure of wizardkind with their magic. But he wouldn’t be her father if he didn’t hold his finger up to his lips, winking at her as he says magic words that make water spout from the edge of his wand, or make the messy stacks of paper cluttering his desk tidy themselves up. Kira tucks some of the words into her head, trying them in the privacy of her bedroom, under the covers late at night. The only spell she can get to work is lumos, but she hugs the light close to her chest, the end of her wand surprisingly cool to the touch.
Her mother teaches her something much more intuitive. Her mother is older, and not American, and when she was growing up, magic was taught differently. Kira’s mother emphasizes the importance of control, trying to teach Kira to notice what a release of magic feels like before she teaches her how to use it. Kira loves most of all when she gets to see her mother doing magic. Noshiko whispers words into Kira’s ears, Kira’s spine tingling with the feeling of magic even though she doesn’t always understand, the cadence of her mother’s native Japanese soothing. Noshiko takes Kira for walks and asks Kira what she feels, smiles as Kira tries to put the sensations into words.
Kira can’t explain why her magic feels the most present during lightning storms, but her mother just smiles knowingly, proudly calling Kira her daughter, a Yukimura at heart.
Sometimes, though, sensations are just sensations. Kira’s six years old when she first wakes up to the feel of aching in her limbs, her arms tired and muscles sore. It feels like when Kira wakes up the morning after spending the whole day swimming in the creek with her friends, or that disaster of a time when Kira tried playing softball for the first time.
“Mom,” she says when she sits down at the table, her arm sore even as she lifts her spoonful of breakfast cereal to her mouth. “Everything hurts. Is this magic, too?”
Noshiko turns to look at Kira. She knows that Kira spent the day inside the day before, that she sat in her father’s office and read with him. She knows Kira didn’t do anything taxing. She knows that the pain is unusual, and that Kira’s never mentioned anything like it before. Kira expects her to be worried, or to ask questions, but once again, her mother surprises her.
“No, Kira,” she says, “Your soulmate is in pain.”
Soulmates.
Plural. Her dad tells her that it isn’t unheard of. He has stories to accompany the revelation that soulmates are real, his own story about him and Kira’s mom, of course. But he also has stories about people who have more than one soulmate, or sometimes even more than two. It’s more commonly accepted now than it used to be, he tells her.
Kira is sure it has to be more than one person for her, because there is no way that one single person has as many aches and pains and scrapes as Kira feels. The aching of sore muscles and physical exertion comes and goes. Kira gets used to it. She thinks maybe that soulmate must be an athlete of some sort, doing something that involves a lot of working with their arms. Kira doesn’t get any of the strength that comes with the soreness, unfortunately, but her mother tells her she doesn’t get all of the pain, either. Kira only gets it at a fraction of what her soulmate feels, which gives Kira a lot more sympathy for them.
But then, there’s the tightness in Kira’s lungs that catches her by surprise sometimes, that makes her pause for a moment as she catches her breath. There are the scrapes and the bruises that Kira can’t see on her skin but that she can feel, sometimes, not really noticeable except for when her soulmate is getting them, or if she accidentally bumps into something in the right place. One time, there’s even a sickening feeling in her stomach, like she’s falling from somewhere high, a tree or a fence, and a sharp pain in her arm. It doesn’t stick around for her, but she wonders if maybe something is broken for her soulmate.
The physical sensations are odd, and occasionally unnerving. She never knows when to expect them, and she doesn’t know what causes them, though she makes up stories in her head. The physical sensations don’t actually come all that frequently, so she wonders a lot about what qualifies make a sensation important enough to pass on to her.
Through trial and error she starts to realize that it’s only the strong physical sensations that she gets; the most painful or happiest feelings, or the ones that catch her soulmates by surprise the most. It makes her more careful, because she thinks that if they’re dealing with worse, then they don’t need anything more coming from her. Sometimes, when her muscles are the achiest from them, she goes and takes a nice, long bath, hoping some of the relaxation will bleed over to them, too.
What Kira finds even more odd, though, is the emotional bounceback she gets.
She thinks it’s like the physical stuff, and that she only gets the strongest feelings leaking through the bond. She gets emotions from her soulmates very infrequently. She’ll feel an occasional brief flash of joy or intense frustration, a moment of belonging. The feelings fill her up, even though they aren’t her own. They’re always gone as quickly as they came, but she holds onto them as much as she can, holds onto the feeling of being connected to her soulmates.
It confirms to her even more that there is probably more than one soulmate. There’s one period of intense sadness and loneliness and confusion when Kira is in early grade school that Kira can’t explain, and that definitely isn’t coming from her own experiences. But through it all she also feels a gentle sort of concern joining her own, tentative but soothing, an acknowledgement that Kira’s soulmate may be lonely, but they aren’t alone.
It makes Kira worry, and she still can’t quite shake the eeriness of feeling someone else’s feelings, but it also gives her hope. Though the reassurance isn’t aimed her way, and though she doesn’t feel abandoned the way her soulmate must, she can’t deny the fact that it beats in her heart, steady and strong.
She isn’t alone, and someday, hopefully sooner rather than later, she’ll get to meet her soulmates face to face.
Kira likes school well enough.
Her parents send her to a magical grade school, though she mostly takes normal muggle classes like math and science and English. They aren’t really supposed to learn real magic until they turn 11, but it’s nice being around other magical kids, and not feeling like she has to hide. She isn’t the smartest kid in her class, and reading class is hard for her, but all her time spent working with her parents means she has a lot fewer magical accidents than a lot of her classmates. She makes friends easily. She feels like she talks too much sometimes, but she’s not bad at kickball and has a cute lunchbox, so she’s fifth grade cool.
She starts her magical middle school in sixth grade, instead of seventh, because that’s the first year her whole class is 11 years old and can legally do intentional magic. She only gets one year of that middle school, though, before her parents decide they’re moving to New York so Kira’s dad can teach at NYU. Kira is nervous. It’s a new school with new people and new subjects in a new city, which feels like a lot of new. Too much new, really.
Kira doesn’t realize just how much it is making her worry, just how nervous she is, until she gets that familiar gentling concern from her soulmate bond. This time, it’s directed at her, and it’s even stronger than before, like it’s coming from more than one direction. She sends her best attempt at gratitude back, but she doesn’t know how well it comes across.
The first day of middle school in New York brings lots of new faces. Kira remembers a few names, though she thinks maybe she blends in just a little bit too well. The new school isn’t huge, but it’s bigger than what she’s used to, and she knows it might take a little bit to find her place. Kira does get a little help, though.
The girl has brown eyes and long arms and dark curly hair, and she waves to her friends across the classroom as she fills the seat next to Kira in charms class. “You mind if I sit here?” she asks, and Kira swears her heart skips a beat.
The shocked “you want to sit next to me?” that Kira blurts out is better than Kira’s tongue being stuck to the roof of her mouth, but probably not much.
“I’ve been new enough times to know how much it sucks,” Allison says, smiling. She has dimples, and her eyes are bright. “I’m Allison.”
“I’m Kira,” she says. “I don’t… I don’t have a big neon ‘new kid’ sign on my forehead, do I? I don’t want to embarrass myself that much.”
“Not at all,” Allison reassures her. “Word just gets around fast here. One of my friends is in your homeroom. What lunch period do you have? If we’re sharing, I can introduce you two.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Kira says, her cheeks heating even as she reaches into her bag. “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.”
When Kira pulls her schedule out, Allison peeks over her shoulder, and Kira decides to just hold it out for her to compare. Allison looks at it for a second, running her fingers along the columns and humming before handing it back.
“We have lunches together on P.E. days, so not today. But we have social studies or history of magic together last period every day. I can save you a seat, you’re coming from the greenhouse.”
“Thank you,” Kira says gratefully.
Allison beams at Kira, and Kira has that same feeling as before, that feeling of something warm blooming in her chest. It only gets worse when Allison reaches out to hand Kira her schedule back, and their fingers brush. Kira’s skin tingles, and she lets herself enjoy the feeling for just the briefest moment.
She thinks she might come crashing back down to earth once she gets to know Allison better, and Allison isn’t just the gorgeous stranger who decided to take pity on the new girl. For now, though, Kira thinks she recognizes the feelings for what they are, the earliest bubblings of a crush.
Allison does save her that seat in social studies, and the heart fluttering doesn’t get any less prominent.
Kira gets comfortable in her new school.
The classes aren’t much different from her old middle school, though the curriculum is slightly different. There are some things she’s ahead on and some things she has to play catch up on. Her teachers are fairly willing to work with her when she really needs it, though she’s much more likely to go to Allison or Erica or Malia, or even to her mom and dad, than she is to the teachers.
Kira makes friends. Despite all the horror stories her friends back home spread about the cold and unfriendly East Coast, and about New Yorkers being blunt and unwelcoming, Kira finds that people are nice to her. Allison’s friends are loud, and both of them seem pretty skeptical at first, but Kira realizes pretty early on that it’s a bluff. Kira learns later that both Malia and Erica have reason to be suspicious of other people, but when it comes down to it, Allison says Kira’s good, and they accept her into their circle without too much hesitation.
“I’m just glad to have someone else who doesn’t like P.E.,” Erica admits to Kira as the two sit on the out bench during an intense dodgeball game.
Kira knows the feeling. Allison is phenomenal at pretty much everything they do in P.E. She does archery and gymnastics in her free time, and she’s strong and flexible. And what Malia lacks in talent and teamwork skills, she makes up for in determination and a willingness to be just aggressive. Malia has the fastest times in the class whenever they run the mile, and takes a particular joy in beating all the boys in their class.
Kira has always been okay at sports, but her old school focused way more on Quodpot than anything else, and Kira has no interest in being up in the air on a broomstick at all. She’s mostly banking on the fact that P.E. is a participation grade class. There’s something about being in New York, or about the time of year, or something, that makes P.E. harder for Kira. She thinks it might be the fact that she’s getting more of her soulmate’s soreness, maybe, that’s making her feel more worn down. She wakes up more mornings with her limbs feeling like jelly than she used to before, and that can’t be down to the weather, or classes being hard.
Allison looks concerned sometimes, when Kira feels the worst. Kira tries to remind herself that that’s just Allison being a good friend, and that it doesn’t Mean Anything. It’s hard, though, when she’s so close to Allison all the time, Allison providing hugs and high fives and warm reassurance when Kira needs it most. Kira didn’t have female friends close enough in her past schools to know for sure, but she doesn’t think that just pure female friendship feels anything like this. It doesn’t with Malia, or with Erica.
Kira wonders sometimes about the implications of having a crush outside of soulmate bounds. Sometimes she lets herself consider whether her soulmates would be okay with it, if they knew. Sometimes she lays in bed at night, considering whether they know about her crush or not. It inspires a strange mix of curiosity and guilt that Kira doesn’t know what to do with, so she mostly tries to push it away and ignore it.
It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. She doesn’t even know if Allison likes girls, and Allison probably has a soulmate of her own to worry about.
Just when Kira finally thinks she has a good thing going, and like she’s gotten the hang of this New York thing, it’s already the end of the year. Kira survived winter in New York and two rounds of exams and comes out relatively unscathed. With her days opening up and no classes to worry about, Kira looks forward to a summer of sleeping and going out with her friends and having time to actually explore the city, finally.
And then, of course, it all comes crashing down.
“I’m moving,” Allison says. “I just found out this morning.”
Her hands are folded in her lap, her legs dangling off the edge of her bed. Her shoulders are tense. It’s easier for Kira to focus on the positioning of Allison’s body and the way she looks than the words that just left her mouth.
Kira knows that this isn’t Allison’s first abrupt move. Allison’s told her stories about struggling to fit in, about never feeling like she belongs anywhere because she’s never had the chance to stay anywhere more than two or three years. Kira still didn’t see the move coming, and from the downward curl of Allison’s mouth, Kira thinks that maybe Allison didn’t either. Allison tells her that she’s moving to the West Coast, to California, to finish up middle school. Kira wants to be angry, or upset, but it’s hard to when Allison looks so resigned.
“How long do you have?”
“Just until the end of the month,” Allison replies. “We stayed here longer than my parents expected, apparently. We were renting, so we don’t even have to wait around to put a house up for sale.”
“We’ll just have to make it an awesome last month, then,” Kira says fiercely.
Kira holds true to her word. They all have curfews, and none of them really have any money, but they work hard to make sure they get as much time with Allison and as much time around New York as they can before she has to leave. They do all the touristy stuff that Malia and Erica did in field trips in primary school, but that Allison and Kira weren’t really around for. They have sleepovers and eat lots of pizza.
It doesn’t feel like nearly enough, to Kira, but it’s all they have.
“I’ll miss you,” Allison tells Kira the last time they see each other, before they go.
“We’ll keep in touch,” Kira promises. “And we’ll figure out a way to see each other. If it takes talking my dad into apparating me there, or setting up a portkey, I’ll do it.”
She doesn’t let herself say she’ll miss Allison. She doesn’t want to miss Allison.
But when she hugs Allison goodbye, she already knows she’s going to miss her a lot.
Kira gets sad and concerned feedback loops through her soulmate bonds for days. She doesn’t give herself a lot of time to mope around and feel sad about it before she tries to get back into the swing of things, though. She spends some time with her parents, and with Erica and Malia, and she gets herself out of the house. She emails and IMs Allison. A lot. Allison tells her about the move and about the people on her street, about how different things are in California. But Kira doesn’t let herself sink into the achy feeling in her gut.
It feels weird starting the school year knowing that Allison isn’t going to be sitting there next to her in the hallway before homeroom, but Kira knows what she’s doing this time. She has friends, she knows where she’s going, she knows how to read her schedule, and she knows what to expect from her classes and teachers. She has one less built-in partner for group projects, but things get busy with school quickly, so it’s hard for Kira to spend a lot of time missing Allison.
She makes an effort to keep active and engaged in school stuff and her newfound social life even once the school year starts up. She didn’t get much of a chance to enjoy autumn in New York last year, too worried about the homecoming dance she wasn’t going to ask anyone to, and about scrambling to get her footing in her new school. She has more energy, this year, and even her soulmate’s aches have faded in intensity.
There is something else going on with them, though. With both of them, actually. Her doubts are officially put to rest in the most mortifying possible way when it comes to her soulmates being able to sense her crush on Allison. She starts getting feedback from one of them with all the familiar feelings that she had, the butterflies and the electricity and the feeling too full of feeling. It isn’t the same, exactly. There’s a lot less fear, a lot more hope. Kira didn’t really have any hope.
But then there’s the other soulmate, and that set of feelings is more… complex. It doesn’t feel like a crush. There’s something hesitant there, unsure. Something laced with a touch of anxiety. But it isn’t any less warm than the other soulmate’s rush of emotions. There’s strong attraction, though the rest of the feelings are much more jumbled, and too fleeting for Kira to really get a handle on them.
She does know, though, that the feelings match up, way too well, and that they’re overwhelming, when they do hit. It’s a lot to deal with, especially when combined with the emotional stress Kira feels when she gets messages from Allison about her new best friend Lydia, and this cute boy in her class, Scott, who lent Allison a pen on the first day. Kira doesn’t want to be jealous, but she can’t help but feel a little bit nervous that Allison will replace her, or that she won’t need Kira in her life anymore.
It’s a lot to keep bottled up inside, so Kira spends a lot of time outdoors.
There’s one day in particular when everything comes to a head. It’s early October, and she goes on a walk with her mother in the park by their house. It’s been a while since they went for a walk together, and Kira enjoys the familiar slow pace that forces her to be patient and present, her mom’s familiar relative quiet. It’s the best kind of walk for thinking, and even though Kira’s been through a few years of magical school by this point, it’s still the easiest way for her to reach out and try to find the magic in the world around her.
“You have a lot on your mind,” Noshiko comments, and Kira doesn’t deny it. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
It isn’t the usual question about what Kira feels in the area around her. Kira almost wishes her mother had asked that, instead, because that’s an answer she is prepared for. She doesn’t know if she wants to answer the question her mom actually asked or not; she doesn’t really want to explain everything, though her mom is actually a pretty awesome listener, when it comes down to it. Kira tries to take a few breaths and think it over.
Kira doesn’t get the chance to say a word, though, before she gets an onslaught of physical and emotional feelings.
The most pressing is what Kira thinks is probably an asthma attack; she’d looked up the symptoms and what they could be, because her soulmate experienced them with enough frequency as a kid. It feels like someone is sitting on Kira’s chest, and she’s practically gasping trying to get air into her lungs. There’s also the accompanying panic, the few moments of anxiety and fear that she won’t get the precious oxygen she needs.
Her soulmate must find their inhaler, because the relief hits and her breathing eases. But something even stranger follows that. There’s an intensity in emotion from both of her soulmates at once.
Realization, and joy.
Kira wonders about it a lot, but neither of her soulmates helps her out much in the next few weeks. She explains to her mom what happened and reassures her that she is okay, but she doesn’t delve in deep into her suspicions, that her soulmates must have found each other, without her.
She focuses on school to keep herself from dwelling on it. She’s in eighth grade, which means she has classes geared towards preparing her for high school. They’re learning slightly more complicated magic, though they aren’t doing anything too cool yet. Around Thanksgiving, Kira’s dad starts talking about moving out to California, so Kira can start a new school there, and Kira is torn. She’ll miss Erica and Malia, who she really has gotten very close to.
But then there’s Allison, and the promise of being closer to her. And if Kira’s soulmates are happy without her, maybe they won’t mind if she does something for herself, moving out West to be with her friend.
“We should move,” Kira tells her dad, to his surprise. “I know you want to go to California. You should do it.”
“I’ll see how close we can get to Beacon Hills,” he promises her knowingly, and Kira smiles.
Very close, is the answer.
Kira is enrolled at Beacon Hills’ single magical high school, where she will be starting her freshman year with Allison. Kira tells Allison the news as soon as her parents have made it official, and Allison calls her long distance that night to buzz about it. Kira’s heart feels lighter at how excited Allison sounds, and it reassures her that she hasn’t been forgotten. Allison makes plans to meet Kira once she moves in, and Allison gets excited talking about all the things she wants to show Kira and all the people she wants Kira to meet.
“Scott isn’t my boyfriend,” Allison says. “Not exactly. He likes me a lot, but it’s different, for me. I want to spend as much time with him as I can, though, and cuddling with him is amazing. And kissing…”
“You guys are kissing?” Kira asks.
“Yeah.” Kira can picture the expression on Allison’s face perfectly, the sheepish smile that still radiates happiness. “He’s really cute. He plays lacrosse, though he’s really terrible at it. He’s got the muscles from it, though. And his hair is soft and he’s got moles all over and his smile makes you feel like you’re the center of the world. His lips are…” Allison trails off, then laughs. “Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this. I’m excited for you to meet him, though. I have a lot to tell you about him.”
“I’m excited to meet all your friends,” Kira says, and it isn’t exactly untrue.
It’s the first day of school, and Kira’s getting deja vu.
She and Allison aren’t in the same homeroom, the woes of Argent and Yukimura being on opposite ends of the alphabet. But they text each other about their schedules ahead of time, and Kira knows she has first period algebra with Allison. Kira brings all her books with her to homeroom so she doesn’t have to stop at her locker, and she’s one of the first to file into the algebra room.
“Mind if I sit here?” a voice jokingly asks, and Kira looks up to see Allison standing next to her desk. Kira practically jumps up to get her arms around her, squeezing her into a tight hug and ignoring the fast thump thump thump in her chest.
“I missed you,” Kira says.
“Me too,” Allison says. She pulls away, giving Kira some space. “I’ve heard this teacher is hard, but I’m glad we have this class together. You always were a great study buddy. Lydia’s in geometry, but Scott’s in this class with us, and he’s pretty good at math, too.”
“Scott’s in this class?” Kira asks. She tries to keep the nerves and anxiety off her face, because she’s sure Allison’s excited about her good friend and her kinda-but-not-exactly boyfriend to meet.
“He is!” Allison says. “Just wait, you’re going to love him. At least, I really hope you do. I’ve only known him a year, but he’s really important to me. He’s my s-”
There’s a loud crash from the front of the room, by the door, and Kira feels the pain before she actually sees it. “Ow,” leaves her mouth before she can stop the words; the pain isn’t severe, just a nudge, but it catches her by surprise, and it feels more intense than most small nudges she gets. Her heart is in her throat as she glances at the front of the room, the implication not lost on her as she holds her knee until the dull pain dies.
“I’m okay,” the boy says, his jaw crooked and his grin sheepish. “I’m all good, just knocked my knee.”
Kira recognizes the boy immediately from Allison’s description. She still turns to ask Allison if he’s who she thinks he is, if that’s the infamous Scott McCall, Actual Angel. Allison’s eyes are wide, though, and staring straight at Kira’s hand, resting on her knee.
“He’s my soulmate,” Allison finishes as the boy comes towards them.
“Our soulmate,” Kira amends, her head spinning with the realization.
There’s a lot of piecing together and a lot of talking things out in the next few weeks. A lot of things make more sense, like Kira’s soreness from Allison’s gymnastics workouts and archery workouts being more pronounced with Kira closer to Allison. The loneliness Kira felt for a while when she was younger coincided with when Scott’s mom and dad getting a divorce, and Scott and his best friend did lots of running around, getting scrapes and bruises, and, occasionally, a broken bone or two.
Allison tells Kira that Scott had a giant crush on Allison, and Allison was attracted to him, but that she was starting to realize that she was aro spec, so she wasn’t sure what kind of feelings she had, if any, or what she could actually offer Scott. She tells Kira that they figured out they were soulmates when Scott had an asthma attack at lacrosse practice, and the three of them start to talk through some more of the intense periods of their lives to try and piece together who was feeling what.
“You had a crush, too,” Scott says to Kira. “When I realized Allison was my soulmate, I thought she might have been the one with the crush, but she wasn’t, she’s never really had a crush.”
“I had a crush on Allison,” Kira admits. “Have. Have a crush. I somehow went for a whole year of school with her without once putting it together that there might have been a reason for that. I didn’t think it’d go anywhere. I was pretty sure she didn’t like me like that.”
“I didn’t,” Allison admits, “but not because I don’t think you’re cute. I started looking into squishes back when I was friends with you. I didn’t think what I was feeling felt like a crush, but I’ve had lots of close friends before, and you felt like something different. I love you, definitely, just not necessarily in a romantic way.”
“It’s less scary than it sounds,” Scott tells Kira, heading off any of the worries she could have had. “It doesn’t make you or me less important, or anything. Especially since we’re soulmates, now, I think that pretty solidly means we’re all gonna be important to each other. But Allison and I have found something that works for us, because I know it means something different, but not something less.”
“I was so scared when you guys found each other,” Kira admits. “Both you two as in you two and you two as in the soulmates I didn’t know. I was worried that Allison wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore, or that you guys had found each other and wouldn’t need me anymore. Just being soulmates doesn’t guarantee a happy ending, or even that you have to date. It just means you’re really compatible, and that you’re going to meet.”
“I want to be something other than your friend,” Allison says, reaching out and grabbing Kira’s hand. “I can’t promise gushy romantic love declarations, and the feelings are different. But Scott and I do go on dates with each other, and spend plenty of time together.”
“Plus, I do get mushy and gooey,” Scott says, jumping in. “So we can see how we go together, too.”
“I’d really like that,” Kira says.
The relief on Allison and Scott’s faces is palpable, but Kira thinks she’s probably the one who is most relieved. She has two soulmates who are together and who are willing to work on what they have, and they are willing to bring Kira in to work with her, too. They don’t want to tell her that two is enough, and Scott seems genuine about testing out their bond and seeing how they fit.
They take Kira on dates, and they hold Kira’s hand. After the second date, Allison gives Kira a kiss, a slow and soft and sweet one. Kira has been thinking about closing the gap herself for so long now, though, that it still feels like lighting her chest on fire.
When Kira turns to Scott, her cheeks still glowing, expecting to just get a firm hug, Kira gets to see that Scott’s mouth is just as nice as Allison promised it was. And Scott’s smile is every single bit as radiant as Allison said as he smiles gently at her, after, making Kira feel so happy she doesn’t think her tiny little body can contain it all.
“I think you were wrong,” Kira tells her mom that night when she gets home.
“About what?”
“Soulmates are magic, after all,” Kira says.
She knows that literally, it isn’t true. Soulmates happen to muggles, too, and it isn’t anything they’d teach at her magical school.
There’s something electric, though, in the way she feels when Allison braids her hair or kisses her lips. There’s something that makes her heart full and her skin thrum with energy when Scott holds her hand, or when she feels the first signs of a crush, the first reciprocated quickened heartbeats.
Kira can feel that this is the start of something bigger, hopefully something happy that will stretch on for years. And not only is that reassuring, but it also just feels nice, warm and full and light.
Her mom may not agree on semantics, but Kira thinks that if that isn’t magic, nothing is.