“What were you doing there?” I asked.

He looked down at me, considering how to answer. “Studying. What were you doing?”

“Studying,” I said quickly.

“On the floor, in the dark?”

I bit my lip and reached for my bag, which he was still holding. But as I did, it dropped to the floor and all my papers scattered across the carpet.

“Oh God, sorry,” I said, as we both bent over to pick them up. A few of my pencils had rolled across the aisle, and I went to collect them when I saw Dante looking through my papers. Blushing, I tried to grab them from him, but he waved them out of my reach.

“‘Life After Death,’” he said, reading the title of my essay. “Of all of the myths, that’s the one you’d want to believe in?”

“Don’t read that!” I said, grabbing at it.

He looked at me with curiosity. “You don’t believe in an afterlife?”

“I don’t mean in the religious sense.”

He gazed at me. “You mean in the literal sense,” he murmured pensively. “People coming back to life.”

I looked at my feet. I knew it was juvenile, but that was exactly what I wanted to believe in. “I miss my parents,” I said quietly. It was a slightly pathetic disclosure, but it was the truth.

Dante’s face softened. “I bet we have more in common than you think,” he said, handing me the stack of papers.

I took them and shoved them into my bag. What did that mean? That he missed his parents? Or that he wanted to believe in an afterlife, too? At least he didn’t think I was ridiculous or stupid, which he would have if he had seen my Latin homework, which had a giant C+ scrawled over it in red.

“Oh, and about your Latin homework.”

My face dropped. “You saw it?” I wanted to die.

“You know, I’m pretty good at Latin. I could help you.” He leaned against the bookshelf, his sleeves rolled up, revealing veins that outlined the muscles on his forearms and disappeared underneath the cuffs of his shirt.

“How am I supposed to know you’re good at it? What if you’re just trying to sabotage my grade?” I said, with a hint of sarcasm.

He laughed. “There isn’t much to sabotage. But you did walk in on my class, Advanced Latin. Isn’t that enough to convince you?”

“Prove it,” I said before I could stop myself.

Dante gave me an amused look. “What do you want me to do?”

“What were they saying? Gideon and Vivian and Yago.”

Dante studied me, half of his face obscured in the shadows. “I don’t know.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Yes you do.”

“They were talking about the Board of Monitors. Something about who did what. I couldn’t hear anything else.”

I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or just trying to placate me. “I don’t believe you.”

He leaned in until his face was inches away from mine, so close I could feel his loose hair brushing against my cheeks. He stared at me with an intensity that could only have been born from extreme desire or hatred, but for a moment I didn’t care. I closed my eyes and waited for what would come next.

“You don’t trust me,” he whispered into my ear, his breath surprisingly cold.

I shuddered. “No.” Around us, the oil lamps flickered and dimmed, signaling that the library was closing.

“But you are talking to me. Does that mean we’re on for Latin?”

I meant to say no, but for some reason the word “Okay” came out of my mouth.

Neither of us said anything for a long time; instead we stood there uncomfortably, each considering what we had agreed to do.

Finally Dante spoke. “Meet me in the foyer of Horace Hall next Friday.”

I nodded, and without saying anything else, we snuck down the corridor and stairs and out into the cool Maine air.

When I got back to the dorm, Eleanor was sitting on her bed, combing her hair in the candlelight, a textbook open on her lap. When she saw me, she put down her brush.

“Where were you?” she demanded, a worried look on her face.

“Where were you?” I asked, angry with her for deserting me at dinner.

“Auditions lasted longer than I thought. I couldn’t leave. I figured you’d understand.”

I dropped my bag on the floor and collapsed on my bed. “I do. What are you studying?”

“Um, math,” she said, as if it should have been obvious. “We have our first quiz on Monday, remember?”

“Oh, right,” I said. I had forgotten about that.

“What were you studying?”

“I wasn’t,” I said with a sigh. “I saw Dante in the library. And Gideon.”

Eleanor’s face brightened with curiosity. “Tell me everything.”

She curled up across from me on my bed, and I told her about Gideon and Vivian and Yago; about Dante and my essay and Latin.

“And they mentioned your brother’s name too.”

Eleanor sat up with surprise. “What? Why would they be talking about Brandon?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know...but there’s more.” I hesitated, unsure of whether or not I should tell her since I wasn’t exactly sure if I had heard correctly. “They also mentioned you.”

“Me? I don’t even know them. It’s probably because Brandon hates them. And they hate Brandon and the Board of Monitors. It’s a known fact.”

I bit my lip. I thought Eleanor would be disturbed upon finding out that they were talking about her and her brother, but she didn’t seem fazed. “I don’t know. They definitely seemed like they were up to something. And Dante seemed to be spying on them too. But why?” I said, almost to myself. “I have to find a way to get it out of him. It’s not like I can ask Gideon.”

Eleanor gave me an incredulous look and shook her head. “I cannot believe you’re obsessing over Gideon when Dante Berlin just asked if he could tutor you in Latin.”

I shook my head, smiling. “So I take it you don’t think they’re up to anything....”

“They probably are. They’re always up to something. They wear three-piece suits to school and only speak in Latin and lurk around the darkest parts of campus. But what could they really be up to? And more important, who cares? Dante Berlin asked you out. This is epic. Epic!”