Everything about this second and final semester of working with my homeroom coven moved too quickly. Between lessons, meetings, grading, check-ins, alternating trainings, and research into potential enchanters for internships, my mind fell into a fog. It was already February, and I hadn’t accomplished half of what I set out to cross off my to-do list.
It didn’t help matters that my telepathy coiled at the back of my head, squeezing against my skull and ready to burst. Milo’s trip had only just begun, yet his absence left me craving his presence. I’d become completely reliant on his joy, his love, his everything. Milo completed the missing pieces in my heart and mind, and as such, my branch ached for the comfort he offered. Even so, I wouldn’t find him. I couldn’t reach across the country to follow his thoughts while he worked on a case with the Global Guild in California. Or wherever the hell in the airport he currently waited around before his flight took off.
It didn’t deter my magic to make the attempt. Hence, the fog of autopilot on my drive to work. While I remained firmly planted in my car, absent-mindedly driving through traffic and barely focused, my telepathy soared across the city of Chicago.
Fluttering above the morning crowds in the thick of downtown, weaving between the busy district of guilds, stalking enchanters in hopes they’d taken on a case accompanying Milo in some unknown venture. Even searching the halls of Cerberus Guild presented no new intel. I very much knew Milo wasn’t in the city. I had complete and total awareness of that fact. I knew exactly where he was located—or would be when his plane landed—but my magic hunted for him all the same, like a sad, lonely dog desperate for affection and companionship.
“Fuck.” I slammed my foot on the brakes, bracing against my steering wheel as I whipped forward from the sudden halt. It rattled my telepathy back into place but sent an ache coursing through my bones.
I blinked a few times until the last specks of the city faded from my vision, and the full depth of the academy parking lot settled in.
Chanelle stood in front of her parked SUV, wide-eyed and her long braids outstretched, appearing almost like sentient serpents. But in reality, the braids were merely caught in the sudden, heavy entanglement of channeled telekinesis. The subtle flow of her waist-length passion twists around her body cast a calming allure to the tense situation. She pressed her telekinesis against the hood of my car so precisely that it left a large handlike indent, almost as if Chanelle’s slender fingers had suddenly extended the length of my car and wrapped around it like a mere toy in her path.
I lifted my hands and tilted my head apologetically. “ My bad. ”
“ Damn, Dorian. I know you like this parking space, but Jesus Christ, you can’t just… ”
Letting out an exuberant sigh, I nodded profusely during Chanelle’s incredibly long-winded rant. I was at fault, lost in a daze of nonsense. Her thoughts helped keep my mind attentive and focused on the here and now. I supposed today’s lesson would do the same, keeping me locked on whether my students were ready for their first big upcoming test before the ticking clock of saying farewell to them this summer and hoping for the best.
“ Today is not the day. ” And with that, Chanelle lifted my car into the air, hurled it across the parking lot to the furthest space she could find, and then delicately dropped it.
Okay, not such a delicate drop, considering the way my head whipped side-to-side, braced only by the collision with the cushion of my seat headrest.
“Oh, come on,” I grumbled half aloud and half still linked to Chanelle, who really didn’t have the patience to continue or ask where my head was this morning since her thoughts were already lost on a long list of tasks she needed to complete, double check, redo since the person assigned likely fucked it up, and a thousand other things she needed done before eight o’clock.
Yeesh. I sucked my teeth, breaking the connection that tethered our minds because that much work fried my brain this early in the day.
He’d attached a close-up photo of him grinning.
He sent a second photo, and this one had him holding a notebook while telekinetically floating pens above it. I almost chuckled. Was that his idea of being productive? Writing in a random notebook that he impulsively paid way too much for at the airport.
And he’d attached a third photo, this one of his legs propped up like he was lounging at the airport, which he likely was while waiting for his flight.
No photo. Just a follow-up of three heart emojis.
Overthink today? Like how my magic decided to become erratic in your slight absence, searching for you across the city and swiftly making its way toward O’Hare? I didn’t send that. Instead, I sulked, redistributing my channeling efforts into my roots to drain my overactive telepathy.
After sending Milo the message, I headed inside the building. I shuffled between students in the hallway and had the misfortune of enduring Kenzo’s scowl as I reached my classroom and opened the door. He huffed, keeping his stare trained on me and sending his most judgmental surface thoughts for my lack of punctuality.
I glared back at him, eyeing the short tyrant. Gray static coursed across his slender body, zipping from his fists to his pale face all the way through his jet-black hair, adding a sheen, then underneath his academy uniform down to his shoes and back around again, ensuring his training never ceased.
He wasn’t actually as short and slender as he used to be. It’d been almost two years since he’d first stepped into my classroom. Kenzo had grown since then. Seventeen years old, like most of my homeroom students, his shoulders were broader, his biceps more muscular, and he’d even shot up a bit in height too, now standing at my height of 5’11. He merely looked deceptively small when standing beside Gael. But didn’t we all?
“Morning, Mr. Frost.” Gael smiled with his shark-like teeth, towering over Kenzo and me as he stood outside the classroom.
Thankfully, Kenzo’s chatty boyfriend always seemed to wrangle him in before the angry prick became too tiresome. Gael also served as a literal bright beacon of positivity around Kenzo; his sunshiny orange aura bled into the black and whites of Kenzo’s inner core. It didn’t change Kenzo, didn’t stay very long, but it stirred a calmness in his thoughts, allowing him to release the bitterness in his throat for the many rude things he sought to say.
Gael kept his brown eyes locked on me, smile intact, and thoughts screaming for a compliment. Even in Spanish, I caught enough to understand. Okay—that was an utter lie. I recognized at most three of the words zipping around Gael’s head, but the yearning on his face, the fluctuation in his aura, and those damn pleading eyes.
“Nice hair.” I nodded to the spiky pink hair he sported for the upcoming holiday.
“Yeah, and?” Gael stepped closer, blocking the doorway and eagerly turning side to side, showing off his large spikes.
The biggest pair sat on either of his shoulders, weighing heavy on him, but given his broad chest and very muscular physique, Gael handled the extra twenty pounds with ease. The way he flexed his forearms was intentional, and suddenly, I caught what he wanted to flaunt.
“You’ve finally figured out how to redistribute your spikes.” I nearly smiled. We’d worked on that after winter break and to see how Gael masterfully handled altering the set-in pathways of his augmentation in a few weeks for a training I anticipated would take the entire semester—if not a few years to follow. “Quite impressive.”
Gael couldn’t simply remove the flow of magic or the protrusions of spikes across his body, but from the training we’d done with Milo’s acolytes last semester, I finally gained a better understanding of Gael’s branch.
Instead of hundreds of tiny spikes lining his forearms, Gael had about a half dozen bigger spikes around his wrists. They curved slightly backward so as to not interfere with his hands, and they resembled the angry rocker bracelets I used to buy when I was Gael’s age in some desperate attempt to seem edgy.
“Come on, porcupine.” Kenzo grabbed Gael’s hand and dragged him into the classroom.
Sweet and almost endearing, except it became clear that Kenzo simply wanted to beat everyone else to class since he treated everything like a competition—including attendance. I swear, Kenzo gave me the biggest headache.
I clenched my teeth from the barrage of questions circulating around a familiar mind. Namely, Caleb who carried a stack of books in his arms and kept four weighted blocks hovering above his head.
Okay, Caleb’s curiosity occasionally made him a bigger headache. A lot of occasions.
His thoughts stirred in a hundred different directions, replaying training scenarios, buzzing with questions on today’s possible lesson, and paraphrasing the texts he carried to class. He barely resembled the boy from the vision last year, having shot up more than a foot in height and doubling in muscle mass. Seriously, the scrawny, nerdy teen who walked into my class with a frazzled face and curly hair then now had a jock build with a sharp jawline and a stylish new hairstyle where he’d shaved the sides while allowing the top to grow out, keeping the curls tamed with product.
One of the books in the mountain Caleb carried had tipped and tilted and nearly fallen from the stack until I waved a hand, steadying what he carried since his attention drifted every which way.
“Oh, thanks so much, Mr. Frost.” Caleb smiled, sincere yet nervous, adjusting his books and putting the thin, flimsy copy of Fundamentals to Root Casting under a much thicker hardback copy of some intricate research about the History of Banishment in the French Parliament.
I scrunched my face. Caleb really decided to dive into every possible account on root magic in hopes of accessing his perfected banishment casting again. His copy of the fundamentals circulated through his thoughts, every word, even the acknowledgments, memorized. He’d read each book in his stack a dozen times over, the worn spines an obvious indication, but also the massive amounts of information floating along his surface thoughts, interlocking with a web of knowledge he tied together, hoping to learn more mastery over his four root magics and prove his worth.
I wanted to ensure Caleb demonstrated his perfected banishment technique again. Preferably with enchanters in attendance. Something told me Caleb wouldn’t master his perfected root casting by the end of his second year, but I believed he’d access it a second time. I believed his use of the perfected banishment was more than a fluke. If I could help him use that level of magic again, it’d draw in a lot of enchanter interest, and among them, I’d certainly find one worthy of helping Caleb succeed during his third year. As a branchless student, I could already see the pile of polite rejection letters to the inquiries we’d make about him working as an intern. Too many enchanters would see him as a burden, a waste of resources, a charity case they didn’t quite see the benefit of offering their time toward.
They were wrong, though. Caleb would make for a fantastic addition to any guild in Chicago, and I wanted to ensure the best enchanters and the strongest guilds wanted to work with him. They’d help him cultivate his talents, offer him the best opportunities, and finally demonstrate how goddamn overrated branches were in this world.
Even as the thought of irksome branch magic crossed my mind, my telepathy pulsed, tugging and seeking Milo despite the impossibility .
Caleb gulped. “ The forehead wrinkles are setting in, which can only mean he’s extra angry. I can only imagine what that means for today’s lesson. ”
I scowled. Did Caleb just analyze my expression like he knew what it meant?
“Check us out, Mr. Frosty!” Gael shouted, accompanied by the ear-piercing crow of his rooster familiar.
Caleb took my weary face and the turn of my attention to scurry into the classroom and avoid my telepathy. Whatever.
Gael floated through the hallway on his side, almost as if he were sprawled out on a couch, keeping one arm resting under his head to prop it upward and another hand planted on his hip. Since him and his familiar had stopped actively avoiding his levitation root, Gael now took every opportunity to show off his immediate proficiency with the magic.
He didn’t wear his academy blazer, making the flex of his biceps very obvious. That, and the strained expression on his face, but to be fair, he did well to hide the exertion with a mischievous grin. Gael’s blazer sat neatly folded on his hip bone, offering King Clucks a comfy seat as he steered Gael through the sea of children in the hallways. Seriously, the damn bird looked like a ship captain cawing at anyone and everyone in their path.
“Is there a reason you’re flying through the hallways?” I sighed, gesturing for him to stop and stand appropriately.
“Cl-cl-cluck.”
“ Exactly, ” Gael thought, sticking his tongue out, showing off his piercing while also making a disgusted expression. “ He spends forever whining about us not levitating, and now he’s gonna bitch when we are levitating. ”
“Ba-ba-ba.”
The pair continued blocking the hallway for nearly everyone since Gael remained stretched out horizontally with King Clucks on his partner’s hip, ready to squint with fury at anyone who dared complain about the inconvenience.
“ Yep. Some folks are only ever happy when they have something to complain about. ” Gael waggled his brows, and my gaze fell to his eyebrow ring, then the industrial piercing on the opposite side of his face, through his upper left ear. He’d gotten both over winter break. Since returning to school, he’d also changed out his subtle earrings for flashier diamond studs.
“ Don’t know how my boy Evergreen handles all that whining…and the talking. Nonstop. Lecture this, rules that, life lesson moral thingy… ”
His rooster puffed his chest, imitating a laughing gesture.
“ Right. Mr. Frosty must lay it down, backing it up hard, because you know that’s the only way— ”
I glared, waving a hand to tilt Gael’s trajectory while King Clucks squawked and furiously flapped his wings as he scampered up Gael’s body, scaling his human partner until he planted himself atop Gael’s head.
“Chill out, Clucks!” Gael’s shoulders tensed, and he grinded his teeth as his familiar dug his claws into Gael’s fauxhawk.
“Ba-ba-bawk!”
“ Yeah, I know he’s a dick. Doesn’t mean you gotta be a total mother hen. ”
Gael cringed, bracing for the inevitable pecks that left bright red marks along his forehead and stood out from his deep bronze complexion.
“Look what you did, Mr. Frosty.”
“What can I say? I don’t like it when students block the hallway all lounged out.” I brushed a hand through my hair, knocking the long, brown locks behind my ear. Dramatic flair, but something about Gael’s angst brought it out of me.
“Who knew you had those bad bitch moves.” Gael nodded approvingly as he swaggered into the classroom with his familiar on his shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. Only Gael.
As they shuffled inside, I counted down the seconds until the bell rang. All the minds in the air today made it difficult to focus, though that might have more to do with the tug from my branch, searching far and wide in a barren city. A city without Milo.
“Morning, Mr. Frost.” Tara stopped in front of the door, rifling through her bag. “Here you go.”
Still the beautiful, leggy blonde with the features and build of a model. She wore perfectly styled accessories and makeup like the first time she walked into my class almost two years ago, but she didn’t wear a fake smile now. No mask to hide her pain. This smile was genuine. The ocean in Tara’s mind still existed, but the storms didn’t seem overwhelming like they once had. It was almost like Tara had finally found herself, found a way to live with her depression, and hang onto those happy moments in between.
“Well, well.” I held up the updated fledgling permit Tara had gotten. She couldn’t take the test over winter break, but I didn’t expect her to find an open slot on such short notice— usually, even the academy had to reserve review times months in advance. Guess the Whitlocks really could do anything they wanted.
“I’ll make a copy of your newly approved branch and then return this by the end of the day.”
Tara nodded, more annoyed she’d have approval for her fifth branch than stressed by the idea of mastering five branches. As her magic continued to blossom, so did her confidence.
“Tara!” Katherine darted down the hallway. Her athletic build helped her weave between others in the hall as she waved goodbye to a group of friends.
Pining permeated the air off the classmates she stepped away from when racing toward Tara. Most students at the academy seemed captivated by Katherine’s presence. Whether because of her sweet smile, her genuine interest in other’s conversations, or her highly competitive skills that didn’t come with the same cocky personality as most students in the top ten. Even though Tara was kind, she was so reserved that most confused it for an air of arrogance, whereas Katherine’s giddy, extroverted personality shined through, and that attracted friendship.
Sunlight shimmered through the windows, dancing along Katherine’s light brown complexion and resonating with the bright yellow of her aura. “So glad I caught you.”
“You realize we have class together?” Tara quirked an eyebrow.
“Right.” Katherine bopped her head. “I’m super scattered today, but I managed to make the updated sigils. Sorry it took so long.”
Katherine retrieved a small cube, similar to the weighted blocks Caleb trained with, though the enchantment sigils differed. Unlike his that helped hone root casting, Katherine had created this block to absorb casting from Tara’s magics. Each side represented a different branch, allowing her to continuously train without the casting disrupting or destroying anything nearby. That’d helped a lot with Tara’s confidence. I’d seen it. The way she discreetly trained, always happiest when the pressure of everyone’s eyes didn’t fall on her.
“You know I don’t actually need an updated enchantment box.” Tara retrieved the one she currently used for casting practice. “I really only need this for the three that are overlapped. Otherwise, it’s just harder to train all three at once.”
Tara’s overlap caused her shadows, her sealing, and her intangibility to become tangled together, which made it impossible for her to use one without using the other two in tandem. It didn’t help they weren’t the most compatible. Still, I’d watched her flourish since arriving at Gemini; even when the new branches she awakened worried or intimidated her, she kept strong and determined.
I believed that overlap caused so much stress in Tara’s youth that she inadvertently suppressed her other branches. How many she currently had suppressed, I had no idea. But it reminded me of how I had the tendency to suppress the magnitudes of my telepathy branch, going most of my life without realizing the full extent of my casting ability. I wouldn’t allow that to happen to Tara, not if I could help her learn from the mistakes I never had.
Katherine grimaced, then adjusted her glasses in some effort to stop staring at the worn scuffs lining the corners of the enchanted box she’d created while she judged herself for sloppy work on the sigils that she considered so basic a five-year-old with her branch could compose better spell work.
“This one is sturdier than the last one and takes into account your fifth branch.” Katherine laughed, handing Tara the cube. “Try not to get too many more branches—only one unused side left to the cube. But it’s not unused. I added a rejuvenation protocol, hence the better reinforcement. Also, totally add as many branches as you want. I can just make a second block. Caleb’s got four. Well, four for school. Then there’s his home set, work set, and… And, yeah, I know he can just use the same set everywhere, but you wouldn’t believe how much he burns through the weighted blocks. Practically destroyed the first set in like a month. So, I find it easier to make a couple sets for different places, which helps keep the wear and tear minimal. Thankfully, you’re not as rough in your training, but if you need another set or want another set or just—”
“Thank you so much, Katherine.” Tara forced a smile; the desire to smile was genuine, but the action took great effort on her part. The action made Tara anxious, flushing her fair skin with reddened cheeks.
“Anytime.” Katherine adjusted the grimoire strapped to her side and looped her arm around Tara’s. “Seriously, anytime, because you have no idea how much this is for my own benefit. Like, yay, helping people and training? Oh my god, don’t even get me started…”
And with that, Katherine walked into class arm and arm with Tara.
Serene confidence cut through the hallway, drawing my attention as a bright neon blue aura of skylight happiness shined. Carter’s smile had this infectious effect, as I fought to maintain a frown despite his many peers smiling when locking eyes with their classmate who strode down the halls without a care in the world. That wasn’t true, though. I could hear his thoughts, the deep whispers tucked in the back of Carter’s head. They ached to be heard, they craved the rattle of paranoia sparked by their presence, but they held no power in Carter’s mind.
It’d taken more than a year, but I finally saw Carter return to the jovial young man he was before the fateful day when trauma nearly consumed him. The day he’d altered the purpose of his branch to heal my fatal injuries.
I rubbed the scar along my neck, remembering the splotchy, red face Carter had that day. The way every breath I took frightened him, fearful it’d be my last. All that seemed like a bad dream. Dream, not a nightmare. Nightmares were powerful things that haunted and consumed. Dreams faded faster.
Carter had cut his hair shorter, almost shaved like Caleb’s, but blonder and with a silly duckbill of gelled bangs in the front. This accounted for a lot of the attention he received walking the hallways. That and he’d landed some awe-inspired winning shot on the boy’s tennis team. Ugh. I’d forgotten the few athletes we had scrambling to enjoy the fun extracurriculars while they still had time. I’d have to start bursting bubbles and reminding them they came here for guild success, not athletic careers.
So, despite his branch being perfect for draft picks or whatever, I’d be steering Carter to spend this final semester more wisely.
Carter smiled and high-fived nearly every person whose path he crossed, much to the discontent of Jennifer, who trailed behind him, ready to hiss or pounce on anyone foolish enough to strike up a morning greeting in her direction. Okay, maybe not that exactly, but Jennifer’s angry eyes gave off complete and total cat energy. I knew there was something aside from her gothic wardrobe that I admired.
“ He’s gonna be impossible today. ” Jennifer rolled her eyes and abandoned Carter to his adoring crowd before wincing at the doorway.
“You all right?” I asked, recognizing the agony of linking onto psychic energy unintended. It was sort of like when drinking water down the wrong pipe or breathing in a scratchy cough or banging your head against a fucking brick wall full force. Basically, it sucked.
“I’m fine, Nurse Frost.” Jennifer glared, giving off the most menacing expression she could muster, before cutting her gaze down to the opposite side of the hallway. “ And that goofy fuck better reel in his lust. I do not have the energy to combat pining today. ”
Jennifer buried her thoughts quickly after that, realizing she stood too close to me, and nearly revealed where her pining emotions fell. I already knew about her crush on Carter, Carter’s crush on her, how the pair couldn’t say it out loud because they both loved their friendship—even if they spent most of their time together teasing the other one for being a preppy prince or an emo queen.
I turned my head to where the irritating flutter of a crush had come. The feelings had latched onto Jennifer, who now sat in the classroom doing all she could to turn off her empathy.
At the end of the hall, Jamius turned out to be the culprit. I stared at him and three of his copies as they clustered around Layla, who was none too happy for his doting.
I scrunched my brow, genuinely perplexed Jamius had feelings for Layla. One, they’d never be reciprocated since she only liked girls. Two, Jamius was so nice and calm, whereas Layla was generally mean. Not like a distance herself from others kind of mean, but more of a mean girl who enjoyed picking and teasing and tearing down someone for sport.
Jamius brushed his hand across the twists that hung over his face like bangs and grinned. “I’m just curious what kind of guys she likes. I think we have a lot in common and…”
His thoughts trailed off almost as much as his rambling mouth when thinking of Layla’s best friend, Amani Williams, one of Chanelle’s homeroom students. I didn’t know what Jamius thought he had in common with Amani, but her image rippled in his surface thoughts, surrounding the well of his inner core, along with flashes of the pair somewhere snowy over winter break. I was surprised I hadn’t seen it sooner, in the days since he returned to school, but for some reason, Jamius’ desire practically overflowed, and with the help of a few duplicates, he decided to act on his crush.
“So, does she like funny guys?” A copy pointed to himself, grinning at Layla.
“Or how about charming?” A second copy adjusted his sleeves, rolling them down so as not to appear as uncouth as his fellows. Ugh—those were the copies’ actual thoughts. Jamius had imprinted personality traits onto them specifically to gauge which would be the most helpful when trying to win over Amani.
“I bet she likes tough guys.” The third and final copy blocked Layla’s path, flexing his arms and scrunching his face in this bizarre, almost constipated expression.
“Oh, Jamius.” Layla walked her fingers up the tough guy copy, a smile on her face and complete and utter contempt in her thoughts.
This wouldn’t end well for Jamius.
“Your piqued interest is cute,” Layla said. “Almost in an adorably pathetic kind of way. But now I’m bored.”
Layla snarled, transforming into her full-size humanoid cougar form, which had immediately intimidated Jamius. So much so that even my legs quivered for a moment. When she roared, nearly everyone in the hall scampered in the opposite direction. Jamius’ heart raced, and his magic waned; soon, his three copies exploded into puddles of muck on the floor.
“She likes confidence,” Layla said with a deep, beast-like voice before shifting back into her petite human form and running her fingers through her low-hanging ponytails. “You shouldn’t waste your time, Hun.”
Layla strutted to the classroom and then adjusted her oversized blazer before stepping inside.
It didn’t take long for everyone else to make it into the classroom afterward. Once the bell rang, I went directly to the front of the room and started my morning lesson. With a wave of my hand, I withdrew my laptop from my satchel and set it on my desk, rearranging the cords and getting the projector ready while I pulled up my PowerPoint.
“As most of you know by now, the Spring Showcase is just around the corner.”
“Wait a second.” Yaritza did a timeout gesture with her hands and quirked a brow. “It’s barely February.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Jamius pointed to Yaritza as if to note she’d observed the most hidden secret of the world. “Didn’t it start in like May last year?”
“April, actually.” Caleb cleared his throat, prepared to elaborate on the exact date. The exact date of all three events.
“Yes, the first-year Spring Showcase lasts about a week, generally speaking,” I explained. “But the second-year Student Showcase is meant to be a festive event that draws in enchanters.”
“When you say festive, do you mean like a celebration?” Yaritza asked with wide eyes, curiosity piqued, and attention locked onto me. “Or is it just a bunch of combat rounds that’ll be dragged out for months?”
I started to answer, “Well…”
“Because I’m fine with either,” Yaritza said, summoning her magic from sheer excitement.
The glow of flaming rocks around her thick curls made me hesitate. I didn’t know which was worse, the idea of Yaritza absentmindedly setting herself on fire or my classroom.
“Focus.” I snapped my fingers and pointed to the fiery pebbles hovering around Yaritza.
“Oh, total attention span on it, Mr. Frost.” Yaritza stood up and twirled, letting the flaming rocks circle her uniformed skirt as she spun. “It’s a new gravitational effect I’ve been working on.”
She whirled faster and faster, moving the rocks and herself with an added edge of telekinesis, and part of me thought she might very well drill her way through the floor like in the cartoons. But she didn’t. Yaritza’s mind called out, eyes locked on a central spot of the wall that kept her steady until she finished her demonstration and took a dramatic bow that got polite applause from half the class.
“I see how others are using their magics all the time.” Yaritza’s eyes fell to Kenzo’s gray static bouncing around the corners of the room and the weighted blocks hovering around Caleb. “And I’ve been finding my own ways to keep my branch active and on full display. So, if we’re doing something festive, I can definitely get behind that. Or in front of it. Or beside it. Really, whatever works best for the performance.”
“You’re not far off,” I said. “After all, being an industry professional is about so much more than battle skills. Those are important, but how you interact with the public, how you engage with peers, and the way you carry yourself during interviews are all extremely important factors.”
“I knew it!” Yaritza squealed, jumping in place as her star shower sprayed across the classroom, lighting everything ablaze. “I’m going to be amazing! Just you wait, Mr. Frost! I’m so ready to impress the enchanters this semester! I’m gonna rock every single interview and land all the internships!”
I stared at my flaming classroom, unable to hide the horror in my expression, the contempt, and the irritation that we were about five seconds away from a fire drill because this would definitely set off the sprinkler system in my classroom.
“Maybe you should work on your little rock show.” Melanie snapped her fingers, smothering every single pebble scattered across the room. “It’d be a shame if you set someone on fire.”
I crinkled my nose at the stench of soot or smoke or ash. It was strong, very strong if I smelled it, considering smoke rarely caught my attention.
Yaritza had a tight, uncomfortable grin to match Melanie’s, hoping she didn’t appear fazed.
“Then again, that’s one way to be remembered in an interview.” Melanie smiled wider.
Layla snickered, which only further fueled Melanie.
“Thank you so much for the assistance, Melanie,” I interjected because I didn’t need a back-and-forth of snide comments from those two. Not this early.
“Sure thing, Mr. Frosty.” Melanie winked, then ran her fingers through her red hair, missing the long locks but internally agreeing that Layla had a point. She always had a point. Melanie’s face was definitely made for a pixie cut. She’d learn to like it. She’d learn to love it like all the things Layla showed her.
Those two really needed their schedules switched around. It wouldn’t help. They’d still have homeroom together. And no one ever had their homeroom switched unless it was the most dire of circumstances. Still, the way Melanie sat at the altar of Layla, losing pieces of herself each and every day. I couldn’t even blame Layla for it. She had an alpha mentality and fed on beta energy like Melanie’s.
I sighed, appearing unenthused and angry according to the eyes watching me. “Back to the showcase. It’s coming up. Phase one. There’ll be lots of phases. Lots of events. They’re all important. No, you can’t goof off.” I turned and glared at Gael, who grabbed his chest in shock—even though he hadn’t been paying attention since texting at the start of class—and his familiar clucked to support Gael’s obnoxiousness. “There’ll be no do-overs this semester. Every day, each week, each event will be a moving piece to a larger score that will determine who picks you for an internship. Land the right internship, you might get a job offer after graduation next year. Land a shitty internship and enjoy paying for that casting license out of pocket for the rest of your life because you won’t get another chance at a guild.”
A few gulped, bit back a gasp, or merely fidgeted from my declaration. Everyone quietly straightened up, paying full attention to the words I spoke.
“Every student at Gemini Academy and every other academy in the city will be competing to catch the attention of enchanters. No. Every student across the state. Everyone wants to land a guild career, and if you want to stand out, then you need to treat every lesson this semester like your entire future depends on it because it very much does.”
Even my most reluctant students paid attention. Kenzo cracked his neck and pulled out a notebook. Gael handed his phone to King Clucks and held onto the edge of his desk so his hands wouldn’t wander. Layla put her hands on her lap and locked her eyes on me, enhancing her senses with branch magic to further her focus. Jamius dug deep into the well of his inner core, pulling from it every motivating thought he had, every speck of confidence, and all the memories of duplicates who excelled in classwork.
It was absolutely mesmerizing to see my students fully engaged—fearful, sure, but ready to take this next and final step with me leading the helm. I was so proud of them. Every single one of them. But I sure as fuck had zero intention of letting them know that. I rather enjoyed the fear as I went over this lesson. I hadn’t seen this group so docile since the first day when I dragged them to the auxiliary gym and watched them scramble over how to handle banishing wisps.
I couldn’t believe that in just a few short months, I’d have to say goodbye, send them off to internships, and hope for the best.
“Let’s discuss how each of you plans on standing out during the second-year showcase.”