I walked into the cafeteria, still buzzing from the crazy, but good, day I was having. And it wasn’t over—I still was supposed to be having lunch with Olivia. Which I honestly still couldn’t believe. If I’d ever seen even the tiniest hint of bullying from her, I’d be certain it was some kind of joke.

I was so focused on trying to pick a lunch option that would be impossible to make a mess or look silly while eating, that I didn’t notice Chelsea bouncing up beside me. I turned to her with a grin, but before I could say anything, she launched into an apology.

“Ohmigod, I am so sorry I couldn’t talk last night. My parents went out, so I had to watch all six of the crotch goblins,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, but I knew she adored her siblings. “You okay? Your texts sounded like you were imploding a little.”

I realized then that I’d never finished texting her about my morning with Demitri—well, Demitri and my brother, but still—and I didn’t really have time now. Over her shoulder, I saw Olivia sitting at an empty table.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just had a weird day,” I said quickly. I found I didn’t even want to hash out yesterday’s craziness. What did it matter when everything was going so well today?

Chelsea gave me a sympathetic smile. “Well, I hope today’s been better.”

“It really has.” I grinned. “But I can’t talk now, I’m actually about to go have lunch with Olivia.”

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. “Like, star of the school Oliva?”

I nodded rapidly, my excitement spilling over.

“Olivia knows you exist?”

Laughing, I playfully shoved her shoulder. “I guess so. She wants to talk about the paper, said she has some story ideas we should discuss.”

“Discuss with you like how she’d discuss with another editor?” Chelsea asked, bouncing on her toes, already excited for me.

But it was better not to get ahead of myself. “Maybe, one way to find out. Wish me luck!”

She gave me two thumbs-ups and a big smile, and I moved off to go sit with Olivia. I tried not to feel awkward and out of place as I put my tray down across from her, still half expecting her to act like she had no idea why I was talking to her. But Olivia looked up from the open notebook in front of her and smiled.

“Hey, Luna,” she said. “I’m so glad you made time for me. I’ve got some great story ideas, and I think you’d be the perfect person to write them.”

Floored, I just asked dumbly, “You do?”

She nodded. “I’ve seen your work, remember? You’re really good.”

“You have?” I asked dumbly. I didn’t think she’d read any of my stuff—she definitely never commented on any of it.

“Of course. I read every article before it goes in the paper, so I know exactly how talented you are.” She said it so matter-of-factly, but the words just weren’t computing.

“I am?” I asked, then winced. Please, brain, can you give me more than two words at a time?

Olivia gave a bright little laugh. “Play your cards right, and next year, who knows? I could be sitting across from the next editor-in-chief.”

I managed to play it cool for the rest of lunch, and out into the hall where Olivia and I walked together to finish talking. I had two new article assignments with the promise of more to come, and I was over the moon! I couldn’t believe the difference between yesterday and today—some part of me was thoroughly convinced I was being pranked, but I’d take the good while it lasted.

Next I had my favorite class, English, with Mrs. Houston. I walked in to see the projector screen pulled down and got the weirdest flash of déjà vu. Hadn’t I just seen that screen down like that?

“Luna, are you alright?” Mrs. Houston asked, touching my shoulder.

I turned to look at her, and for a second, it was like I was seeing double. There was Mrs. Houston in her usual glasses, tight bun, and cardigan, but super imposed over it was Mrs. Houston in that white and gold dress, practically glowing with the image of ghostly wings behind her. I blinked, and it was gone.

“Sorry, I’m fine, I just remembered this weird dream I had about you last night that you wouldn’t believe,” I said.

She smiled. “Oh, you had a dream about me? How sweet.”

Nodding, I grinned and told her, “Yeah, you were in this gorgeous dress, and you said you were my fairy godmother and there to grant wishes.”

“That’s quite the dream,” she said, chuckling. “It would be a good story for your next assignment.”

“It was definitely weird,” I agreed, laughing with her. “Too bad you can’t actually grant my wishes, though.”

Mrs. Houston outright laughed at that. “Yes, it’s too bad. That would be simply impossible.”