Hey! How about you go read my story Swan Song?

Sophie's POV:

"Keefe?" I say.

"Mmm hmm?" We're lying under the Panakes tree. I think we're supposed to be doing homework, but I'm eating and Keefe's drawing, so... I guess homework comes second!

"So..." I start. Suddenly, I'm really nervous about what I'm going to say next. I don't think Keefe is going to react badly, but as a professional worrier, I can't help but imagine the worst-case scenario. Deep breath. Look at it this way- if Keefe does react badly, Dad will make him pay. "So, um, you know how pretty much everyone in my level is getting their matchmaking scrolls? And practically everyone in your level has gotten theirs already."

Keefe nods. "Yeah."

"Well, um..." Keep going. Force it out. "I was thinking, I really don't like the way that the matchmaking system works. It's unfair, and, well... I don't want to register for the match." I look at the ground as I say it. "I hope... I hope that won't really matter to you. And you'll be okay with being a bad match." Tentatively, I peek at Keefe to gauge his reaction.

Thankfully, Keefe smiles at me and takes my hand. "Sophie," he says, and I note the use of my real name. "I would not destroy our relationship over something as stupid and trivial as a piece of paper. If you don't feel comfortable with the system, we don't have to do it. Honestly, you're probably right about how unfair it is. I'm not Fitz- Reputation isn't really something I care about. Definitely, I don't care about my 'match status' as much as I care about you, Sophie. And hey-" he grins. "One more way to annoy Lord Pretentious, right?"

I laugh, relieved. "Yeah. Definitely. You're sure your okay with being a bad match?"

Softly, he presses his lips to mine. The kiss is over far too soon. "Of course."

"Really?"

"Really."

Keefe's POV:

Despite my assurances, Foster still doesn't look 100% convinced (Wait, I'm an Empath, I know she's not convinced) that I'm okay with not signing up for the match. Honestly, though, I wasn't going to anyway, so that worked out great! I think, since Fitz is so obsessed with reputation, her anti-matchmaking feelings were a big source of stress for her, and she seems to think I'd react similarly. Well, whatever the reason, I need to de-stress my Foster (well, she's not mine, because she's an independent person and I don't own her, but you know what I mean) and convince her that I'll love her no matter what! I make a mental note to write her a note.

The next day, I return to the Panakes tree after "school" (I think we all know I ditched). I'm over there a lot, because a) I love Foster and want to spend as much time with her as possible, and b) I really want to get away from Lord Pretentious. ("Ugh, you're dating that Foster girl? As thrilled as I am that you're not dating the Song girl, or, Mallowmelt forbid, a boy, couldn't you have chosen someone a little less... rebellious? Illegal? The Vacker girl, for instance- that would have been a perfect match! Oh, and GET YOUR SECOND BEST GRADES UP, YOU IDIOTIC DISAPPOINTMENT!") I can't wait until he finds out his only son is going to become a bad match and bring shame to the Sencen family! Oh, it's going to be great!

While I quiz Foster on her Elvin History test tomorrow, I slip her the folded up note. She finishes answering a question about the sinking of Atlantis, then picks up the sheet of paper and unfolds it. Foster reads aloud:

"'Dear Foster, Roses are red / Violets are blue (I guess it is kinda hard to rhyme something with violet) / I don't need a list / In order to love you. Love, Lord Hunkyhair.' Oh my gosh, Keefe, that's so sweet! Thank you!" And this time, my Empath skills tell me that she really does believe me. Which is probably supported by the fact that she tackle-hugs me and presses her lips to mine.

"We're going to be a bad match," she says softly, more to herself than to me. "But you know what? We're going to be super happy anyway."

"Of course we are!" I tell her excitedly, squeezing her hands and laughing. "We're going to get married someday, and we'll have a daughter, and I'll take lessons from Grady on becoming an overprotective father."

"I don't think you can choose the gender of our child," Foster says.

I snort in mock disbelief. "Of course I can!"

Foster laughs. "You seem to have thought about this a lot," she notes.

"Well, that's the future I'd prefer, but any future is fine by me as long as I share it with you."

Okay, so, that's pretty much the end! I'm going to merge the last few chapters into one big epilogue, and then we're done! Yay!