Yeah, she couldn't wait for anatomy lab now she knew her partner wasn't her ultra-rich half-brother, he was only her immortal curse-dispensing playboy father. Rosario gave a noncommittal shrug. "Sure." Apollo really did look glad, though; he was even grinning again. Rosario couldn't help feeling that they'd each been having a completely separate conversation over the other's shoulder. On her side, she'd just had a damn asteroid dropped on her head, incinerating her denials, melting logical, scientific understandings of the cosmos to brittle glass (who know what else you'll see). On his end, he'd been... she didn't even know. Did he think they were bonding?
Her stomach felt hollowed out, like an impact crater. Rosario wrapped her arms round it, wrestling with questions she didn't want to ask. What am I gonna see? How'll I know? How d'you tell if it's something real or if you're cracking up? She needed to know, and Apollo would probably be only too eager to answer in detail – she'd seen the way he'd lit up when he'd talked about teaching her – but for that, she'd have to do a thing that curdled her gut and brought a bitter taste to her mouth. She'd have to ask for his help.
She pressed her lips together tight and asked only, "Is it always gonna be the stars?"