Flashback ( PDFDrive )

It IS, Sophie agreed. I’m super glad I’m only a Level Four and have
another year before I have to deal with it.
Yeah . . .
What? she asked, because it hadn’t been an “I’m agreeing with you”
kind of “yeah.”
It was the kind of “yeah” that usually got followed with something
like “So, funny story . . .”
It’s nothing, Fitz told her.
But it was definitely something. Weren’t you the one who was just
getting on me for holding little things back?
Fitz sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.
Okay—don’t freak out, he said, which of course had her freaking out
even before he added, but . . . matchmaking technically goes by age. You
have to be fifteen in order to pick up your packet, sixteen to turn it in, and
seventeen to get your first list. And since those ages kinda match the Levels
at Foxfire, it became a tradition to say, “Register after the Level Five
midterms, turn the packet in at the end of the year, and get your first list at
the end of Level Six.” But it doesn’t have to be that way. Once you turn
fifteen . . .
He didn’t finish the sentence—but he didn’t have to.
Just like he didn’t have to remind her that she was fifteen.
So . . . she could register now.
I thought elves didn’t pay attention to age, Sophie argued, grasping for
any loophole that would save her from what Fitz was saying.
But it was also a valid point. Ever since she’d moved to the Lost
Cities, Sophie had been struggling to keep track of exactly how old she
—or anyone else—was. The elves didn’t acknowledge birthdays,
counting age by something they called their “inception date” instead