Three girls brushed past Fawn. Mini skirts,tight fitting hip-hugging jeans, tiny tops. Fawn would have been grateful for quarter length sleeves. She prepared herself for the inevitable diversion of attention the boy with the blue eyes was sure to experience, but it was unnecessary. He didn’t take his eyes off of her.
Magic didn’t exist at Home. From her birth Fawn had been so drained of anything light and whimsical. It was all tradition and following rules and painful punishment for denying those rules. There was no magic in this life, they told her. Only in the afterlife. All magic here has pain with it. Only by sacrificing all choice here could you enjoy happiness in the hereafter. This was all she had known. But at this very moment in this first life Fawn felt absolutely magical. And absolutely no pain.