Midnight Frost

face, followed by a shower of princess pink sparks. I jerked away from the explosion of magic and looked up to find Daphne Cruz standing in front of me, her hands on her hips and her foot tapping out a quick rhythm on the pink rug on the floor.
    “Gwen? Are you even paying attention to me?”
    “Sure,” I said in a bright voice. “I was just waiting for you to try on the next dress.”
    Daphne’s black eyes narrowed, and more sparks shot out of her fingertips. Like all Valkyries, Daphne always gave off more magic whenever she was angry, upset—or aggravated, in this case, by me and my complete lack of fashion sense.
    She’d asked me over here to help her pick out something to wear for a big date that she had planned for next weekend with her boyfriend, band geek Carson Callahan. I’d been sitting on Daphne’s bed for the last hour, watching her try on dresses, sweaters, and the occasional pair of pink designer jeans, all with matching purses, jewelry, and other accessories.
    “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think of this one?”
    She twirled around, causing her blond hair to dance around her shoulders and the short skirt on her pink dress to swirl out around her legs. The rich color of the fabric made me long for some of Grandma Frost’s homemade strawberry ice cream.
    “Um . . . it’s very... pink?”
    Daphne rolled her eyes. “Of course , it’s pink. Is there any other color? But do you like this pink dress better than the raspberry one I tried on a minute ago? Or what about the cotton candy skirt I showed you before that? I think I have a bubblegum sweater in my closet somewhere too . . .”
    Daphne stalked over to her closet and started grabbing even more clothes out of the depths, tossing them aside until she found the ones she wanted. With her great Valkyrie strength, the garments flew all over the room, landing on the bookcase, the TV, and even on the computer monitors, servers, and hard drives on her desk that she loved to tinker with in her spare time.
    I ducked down just in time to avoid getting hit in the face by a baby pink turtleneck. Desperate, I glanced at Vic for help, since I’d propped him up on the bed when I’d first come into the room. But the sword’s mouth was open, and he was snoring softly. Vic wasn’t into fashion any more than I was. I’d brought Nyx along too, and the wolf pup was crouched down on the floor on the far side of the room, getting ready to pounce on a stuffed Hello Kitty that was propped up against the bottom of one of the bookcases. Even the plush toy had on a pink dress.
    “There it is!” Daphne said, stepping away from the closet, a pale cashmere sweater in her hands. “What do you think about this?”
    She held the sweater up over the dress she was wearing, and the color made her amber skin seem even lovelier than usual.
    “I like it,” I said. “It’s very . . . pink.”
    I winced again, but Daphne beamed at me.
    “It is one of my favorite sweaters,” she said, holding it up to her chest again and admiring her reflection in the mirror over her vanity table. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Thanks, Gwen.”
    “Sure. No problem.”
    “And I’m sure it will be just perfect for the restaurant where Carson is taking me.”
    “Yeah. Perfect.”
    Daphne must have picked up on my less-than-enthusiastic voice because she abruptly spun back around to face me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about Carson and some stupid date that he’s taking me on. Not with Logan...”
    Her voice trailed off, and this time, she winced.
    “Not with Logan gone,” I finished.
    “I’m sorry, Gwen. This was a dumb idea, wasn’t it? I just wanted to cheer you up—”
    I held up my hand, cutting her off. “No, it’s fine. Just because Logan isn’t here doesn’t mean that life doesn’t go on. That we don’t go on. I’m glad that you and Carson are so happy together. And coming here today helped take my mind off . . . other things.”
    Namely, my nightmares, although I didn’t tell her that. I hadn’t told Grandma Frost or Professor Metis about them either. Vic and Nyx were the only ones who knew that I dreamed about Logan stabbing me over and over again, if only because they were with me in my room every night and had to listen to my screams.
    Daphne chewed her lower lip in doubt, and more sparks of magic flickered in the air around her. I made myself smile at her, hoping to convince her that I was having a great time.