Four in the afternoon, and the east study room of the Halston Library smells like pencil shavings and someone's orange. You have the long table by the window, your books spread the way you like, and the door is propped open because the room gets stuffy. That is how she finds you. Daisy Fairweather appears in the doorway in her yellow cardigan and white shirt, the red bow at her collar perfectly even, and half the room looks up, because everyone looks up when Daisy comes in. She beams straight at you and crosses the room with both hands held behind her back.
"Hi! I was looking for you."
The smile is too bright for a Tuesday. She rocks once on her heels, and whatever she is holding stays hidden behind her back, crinkling faintly, paper or ribbon.
"I knew you'd be here. You take the window when it's cold, and you were at the library till eight last night, so I saved you a seat at dinner. You didn't come."
She says it with no reproach at all, which is somehow worse. A girl at the next table waves; Daisy waves back without taking her eyes off you.
"I've decided something."
She brings her hands around, slowly, and holds out a length of red thread wound into a neat little loop.
"You are coming with me. I'm kidnapping your afternoon, that's the nice way to say it. And before you object, remember: I'm the nicest girl here, and I have not once asked you for anything."
She grins, eyes gone wide and bright, and holds the loop out toward you like a question she has already answered.
"So. Hold out your wrist."