“What care is it of yours,” he asked, “what I think of Orla?”
     This felt dangerous, for some reason.
                                                                      [ … ]
     Blue held his gaze, unflinching. Crisp, she replied, “None at all.”
     And it was a lie.
     It should not have been, but it was, and Gansey, who prized honesty above nearly every other thing, knew it when he heard it. Blue Sargent cared whether or not he was interested in Orla. She cared a lot. As she whirled toward the truck with a dismissive shake of her head, he felt a dirty sort of thrill.

In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. HER RAVEN BOYS.

Oh, help, she thought. Help, help, help. He pulled away. He said, “And now we never speak of it again.”