Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)

by Rainbow Rowell

But Shep and I have been talking for days. And we’ve been talking so much about magic. And so much about everything. And I know that he’s a Normal, it’s not like I ever forget, but I can’t really imagine what would be different about being here with him if he had magic. I suppose he’d understand me a little better, he’d know what magic feels like . . . But magic feels different for everyone, even among mages. You can’t ever really know what it’s like to be someone else . . . “Shepard.” He pushes up his glasses. “Penelope.” “Do you wish that you could do magic?” He bites his lip. His bottom lip is pinker than the top, and there’s a dimple in the middle, so that the top of his bottom lip is shaped like the top of a heart. I only noticed this yesterday, and now I can’t stop. “I feel sort of like you’re asking me whether I wish I could fly,” he says. “And the answer is—of course. Yes. I would love to do magic. But I don’t wish that I was something else. Does that make sense?” “Sort of . . .” “Like, I wouldn’t trade being who I am to be someone or something else that could do magic.” “You don’t mind being Normal?” He laughs at me. “Don’t laugh at me.” He smiles instead. “I don’t mind being what I am. We don’t call ourselves ‘Normal,’ you know?” “But, Shepard, you spend so much time trying to get close to magic, you must . . .” He looks like he’s going to laugh again, so I stop talking. He’s still holding the strawberry lace I gave him. “Do you even like strawberry laces?” I ask...