it the deck!” I pushed Blue out of the way as the concoction in our cauldron boiled over. Magenta foam spewed all over our desk and toward a couple of nearby classmates.

In retrospect, letting novice brewers attempt a sleeping potion this complicated was probably a bad idea. In fact, as Marie Sinclaire and Lili Jane Watson (Princess of Salinas) hit the floor—completely unconscious—I was sure that it was.

Oh, great.

Marie was my friend and she’d forgive me, but I doubted Lili would. Unlike most of my classmates, Lili was not fond of the “New Crisanta Knight.” Marie told me that it was because Lili had had a crush on Chance Darling for the last couple of years and resented that when he finally became available, he’d turned all his attention to me.

Oh well. You can’t please everyone. And if I was honest, I generally preferred not to.

I felt bad that Lili and Marie had been knocked out, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. Our potions professor, Madame Alexanders, should have been paying more attention, particularly when we were making something so dangerous, and particularly around students like me who weren’t that skilled.

Potions class was not my thing. Well, most subjects at this school were not my thing. But lack of skill was much more evident in a class where mistakes could lead to combustion.

Thankfully, SJ was the most talented potionist in our year and probably the whole school. Usually she was able to give Blue and me enough help so that our lab exercises ran smoothly. But she’d been assisting some other students when our magenta foam started erupting. Upon the aforementioned explosion though, she and Madame Alexanders rushed over.

The two worked in sync to calm the reactive materials in our mini cauldron so they’d stop boiling over. Once that was taken care of, they wheeled on us with their arms crossed.

“I thought my instructions were clear,” SJ said sternly, gesturing to her notebook on our desk. “My notes highlight the step-by-step procedure for what to do.”

“We followed them,” Blue protested.

“Really?” SJ asked. She picked up a chunk of yucca root the size of a large finger and then pointed to her notes. “It says right here to julienne the yucca before adding them to the pot. That means to cut them into thin strips or match-like pieces. This yucca is not julienned.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t use so many fancy words in your notebook,” Blue argued. “Who exactly are you trying to impress?”

“Ladies,” Madame Alexanders interrupted. “That is enough. SJ, go fetch the nurse. Miss Sinclaire and Miss Watson can sleep off the effects of the potion in the infirmary. Crisa, Blue, clean this mess up immediately. Use the enchantment-absorbent sponges in the cupboard. And for the love of Book, please do not touch any of the Poppy petals in the process. As for the rest of you . . .” Madame Alexanders turned to our eavesdropping classmates. “There are only ten minutes left in the period and rest assured that if you have not completed the lab exercise by then, I will assign it as homework.”

Blue and I proceeded to clean our lab desk, which took forever to scrub down. Heeding our professor’s warning, we were careful not to touch any of the toxic Poppy petals in the process.

Madame Alexanders had informed us that Poppies were going to be an important part of our potions studies this semester. As we’d learned in an earlier lecture, the root of all sleeping potions was the Poppy. In Book, this sleep-inducing flower grew only in Tunderly, where my archenemy Mauvrey Weatherall (daughter of Sleeping Beauty) was from. According to our fairytale history texts, the flowers were also native to the lands of Oz and Camelot.

Personally, I wasn’t so sure working with Poppy Potions was a smart idea. SJ could handle that level of brewing, but far less talented students like Blue and myself working with such a dangerous substance was not great. I’d already taken out two of my classmates. At this rate who knew how many more would drop in the months to come.

Luckily, this was a mild sleeping potion that was engineered to induce only thirty-minute naps, so Marie and Lili would be fine.

Although every sleeping potion required Poppy petals, the other ingredients varied depending on the type and strength of the potion. There were a lot of types and strengths of Poppy Potions out there. And Madame Alexanders seemed more than willing to have us delve into each and every one this semester.

Who else feels like this is not going to end well?

Maybe I should book a bed in the infirmary now.

The bell rang and students began to file out of the room. Several school nurses had come to collect Marie and Lili, and SJ had gone with them to escort the princesses to the infirmary. She probably felt partially responsible for their current state since I’d screwed up the potion on her watch.

Blue and I were nearly done cleaning. We kept scrubbing our desk until Jade and Big Girtha approached us.

Princess Jade (the least likeable of Aladdin’s children) and Big Girtha Bobunk (the younger, larger sibling to the title characters of Hansel & Gretel) were far from my favorite classmates. Until recently, they had been friends with the aforementioned Mauvrey.

Since my nemesis disappeared a month ago, Big Girtha and Jade had been looking a bit lost. They still stuck together, but without their leader they’d sort of been drifting. Every day since Mauvrey’s departure I’d seen them in classes, walking through the corridors, and sitting in the banquet hall, going through the motions of normalcy. But it was obvious to anyone who watched them for more than a second that they were feeling anything but normal. They were depressed and on edge.

If Big Girtha hadn’t tried to squash me under Mauvrey’s orders on more than one occasion, and if Jade hadn’t been so annoyingly prissy to me since our pre-teens, I might have felt sorry for them. The sight of the pair these last few weeks had been quite sad. Lackeys without leaders were a lot like cookies without milk. Incomplete.

As the two neared Blue and me, I varied between feeling aloof and having pity for them.

“How’s it going?” Big Girtha asked.

Blue and I exchanged a look.

“Um, fine I guess,” I said. “Did you guys need something?”

Jade glanced away for a moment, tucking a strand of her long, lush black hair behind an ear. Big Girtha elbowed her friend in the arm and the princess made a slight squeak.

Jade sighed and looked me in the eyes again. “Crisa,” she began, “I realize that Girtha and I have not always been amiable to you, Blue, and SJ—”

“Amiable?” Blue interrupted. “You and your former ringmaster have taken shots at us for years. Supersized over here went as far as breaking my arm last spring.” Blue nodded to Big Girtha. “Isn’t that right, Gigantore?”

“That was an accident,” Big Girtha said defensively. “You know the risks of jousting. I rammed you off your horse fair and square in our final exam. If you didn’t want to take the risk, you shouldn’t have taken the elective.”

Blue stepped in front of me and got in Big Girtha’s face. “I know you greased my saddle before the match because Mauvrey didn’t like me showing her up in Ballroom Dance class the day before. That’s the only reason I slipped and the only reason you got the top mark in that elective instead of me.”

Big Girtha—massive like a gargoyle crossbred with a bell tower—stared down at Blue. Her furry eyebrows narrowed beneath her choppy broomstick bangs. “Are you calling me a cheater?”

“I’m calling you a lot of things, you loggerheaded, clapper-clawed, she-bear,” Blue replied. “But sure, let’s start with cheater.”

Feeling that this disagreement was about to move beyond words, Jade and I put our hands on our respective friends’ shoulders to hold them back.

“Look, what’s done is done,” I interceded. “What do you want? Out with it fast so we can go our separate ways.”

“That is just it,” Jade said carefully. “Girtha and I have been talking, Crisa, and we think it might be in all of our best interests not to go our separate ways.”

“What’s that?”

“Your tiny, cloaked friend here is right, Crisa,” Big Girtha said, shooting Blue a glare. “Jade and I have spent a lot of time messing with you and your friends over the years because of Mauvrey. But as a result you, Blue, and SJ are the three people we know best at school. And now that Mauvrey’s gone, well, your group seemed like the most obvious choice to . . .” Girtha’s voice trailed off.

“To what?” I urged.

“To merge with,” Jade finished.

“Let me get this straight,” Blue clarified. “Because you two spent your free time finding ways to mess with us over the years, you think that qualifies you to hang out with us?”

“Actually, with Crisa,” Jade replied. “She was Mauvrey’s mortal nemesis after all, so we spent most of our time helping Mauvrey figure out ways to torment her. You and SJ kind of just came along for the ride. As such, now that Mauvrey is gone, it would seem that the person we are most compatible to support would be Crisa. We already know so much about her. She would be the most plausible person to take over as our group leader.”

I was so surprised I literally had nothing to say. Luckily, Blue made up for it.

“Forget it,” she snapped. “For all we know you’re in cahoots with that witch who used to give you orders and are just waiting to get close enough to Crisa to finish what the she-demon started before she left campus.”

“That’s a lie,” Big Girtha said. “I know there’s been a lot of rumors floating around about what really happened to Mauvrey and what our headmistress isn’t telling us, but we know as little about what went down with her as the rest of the school does. And now that she’s gone we’ve had a lot of time to think and we’ve decided we want to change.”

I scrunched my eyebrows together, perplexed and suspicious. The expression made Big Girtha rub the back of her head self-consciously, bristling her mud-colored hair.

“We’ve always known how the rest of the school sees us,” Big Girtha said. “Like we’re bullies and jerks. Only when Mauvrey was here to guide us, to be our friend, we didn’t really care. We had each other; we were a crew and Mauvrey’s presence was enough to intimidate other people from ever looking at us sideways. Without her though . . . well, we just don’t want to be hated anymore, Crisa. We don’t want to seem like antagonists in the making; we want people to see us in a different light. Which is all the more reason why we’d like to hang with you. Not only because we already know you pretty well from doing Mauvrey’s bidding like Jade said, but because what better way to show the rest of the school that we’ve changed than by supporting the person we’ve always come after the most?”

“No way.” Blue shook her head even more adamantly. “As if we’d believe any of this ‘we want to change’ malarkey. Your group merger is rejected. You get me? There is no chance the two of you are allowed anywhere near Crisa.”

“But we are telling the truth,” Jade insisted. “We do want to change, and in order to do that it is vital that people see that Crisa sees us as friends, not enemies. She has become one of the most popular girls in school. If she accepts us, then others will surely follow. If she does not, then we have no hope of changing our image.”

“Tough,” Blue huffed. “You and the Gargantuan made your beds a long time ago, Jade, and now you have to lie in them. You’re all our enemies, including Crisa’s. So why don’t you and Big Girtha just take your change of heart and . . .”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I interjected, finally finding my voice and pushing my way between Blue, Jade, and Big Girtha.

“First of all, Crisa can decide for herself who she can and can’t hang out with,” I said, glancing at my well-meaning but overprotective friend. “And second . . .”

I looked back at Jade and Big Girtha. “I appreciate that you guys want to change, but Blue is right. You can’t flip a switch like that and expect me to take you as new friends on face value. It’s too weird. And no offense, but while you may not truly know everything that went down between me and Mauvrey before she disappeared, that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t trust you.

“The two of you have literally antagonized me, my friends, and a lot of other girls at school for years. If you ever want any of us to forget that, it’s going to require a bit more than a plea for forgiveness. The bottom line: if both of you actually want to change, that’s great. But you have to put in the effort that it requires. Change is not the sort of thing that I—or anyone—can just hand you like a pardon for a past transgression. It’s something you have to earn through a lot of hard work. Trust me, I know. So that being said, I’m sorry, but for the time being I agree with Blue. Your offer to be our friends is rejected. And I really would prefer it if you stayed away from us.”

Big Girtha and Jade looked at me sadly and I wondered for a moment if they were going to protest. I also wondered if my words had ticked Big Girtha off enough to cause her to lash out (as was her tendency) and use her freakish strength and massive hands to throttle me then and there. Probably not, as our professor was still at the front of the classroom, but I kept my guard up just in case.

Thankfully, Big Girtha and Jade walked away and out of the room without another word. The pair of them seemed so defeated that I almost felt bad for them. Then Blue smacked me on the back and I was jolted out of my misgivings.

“Way to tell them off,” she said. “They got what they deserved.”

“I wasn’t trying to tell them off,” I responded as I went to pack my books. “I was trying to tell them the truth. If they want to change they have to put in the hours. Becoming someone different is possible, but it’s something you have to invest in completely. It’s more than a decision; it’s a commitment that requires work every day as you forge your way toward seeing it through.”

Blue raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean you actually buy what they were selling? You believe they can change?”

“I mean I believe that anybody can change. Whether they will is up to them.”

Blue studied me curiously and then shrugged. “Whatever. That happened. It was weird. Let’s move on. We’re gonna be late for our next class if we don’t hustle.” She grabbed her books and bag and headed for the door at the front of the room.

“We don’t have a next class. It’s lunchtime,” I replied as I tossed my bag over my shoulder and followed.

“All the more reason not to be late,” Blue responded, smiling.

I was trailing her out the door when Madame Alexanders called to me from her desk. “Miss Knight. Before you go, a word please?”

I signaled Blue to go ahead and approached Madame Alexanders’s desk. It was the same as the student lab desks—thick like a brick, black like tar, and sturdy from end to end. Bunsen burners were spaced across it along with a collection of vials, beakers, and forceps.

My professor’s auburn hair was in a loose bun held together by two chocolate brown clips. I couldn’t tell if she was angry with me—her green eyes were still focused on her papers—but whenever a professor asked me to stay after class, I generally assumed it wasn’t a social call.

“If this is about the explosion,” I started, “it was a total, careless mistake, but I swear it will never happen again. I’ll pay closer attention to the lecture next time. I promise.”

“This is not about your lab exercise mishap, Crisanta. Accidents happen. This is about a job.”

“A job?”

“Yes, one I would like to offer you,” my professor went on. “With all the added kerfuffle that comes with basing a semester’s worth of study on an ingredient as temperamental as the Poppy, there comes a great deal of prep work for our lessons. So much work, in fact, that I requested permission from Lady Agnue to select a student teaching assistant to aid me with the endeavor for the next several months.”

I blinked at her, not quite processing what she was saying. Not because I was dense—it was obvious what she was getting at—but because it was too ridiculous a notion for me to comprehend.

“Are you saying you want me to be your TA?” I asked in disbelief.

“Exactly,” Madame Alexanders confirmed. “You would help me set up equipment and grade papers on occasion, but most importantly you would work with me after school to do runthroughs of the following week’s experiments.”

“Professor, you’ve got to be joking,” I said. “I’m barely mediocre at brewing. SJ’s your best potionist, not only in this class, but in the whole school. You even trusted her enough to lend her that special potions book last semester. Shouldn’t you be asking her to be your TA?”

“SJ is very gifted, and it is true that I have put a great deal of faith in her as a potionist in the past. But you have a lot of untapped potential that I’m afraid won’t be tapped unless I show you how to tap it. Moreover, you have creativity and an adherence to instinct that SJ often suppresses in favor of a more rational approach.”

I shook my head. “No way. I’m telling you, professor, SJ’s your girl. Yeah, she’s rational, but she’s got talent coming out of her ears. She’s brewed circles around the rest of this class for years and has worked hard to not only help us, but help you. She deserves this job. She’s earned it.”

“I am sorry, Crisanta, but my mind is made up. I don’t want SJ. I want you.”

“Well, I’m going to have to pass. I can’t do that to SJ. And anyway, even if I wanted the job, I couldn’t take it. I’m sure when you put through your request to Lady Agnue, she told you that the three of us are obliged to attend detention every day after school for the next five months.”

“She mentioned that,” Madame Alexanders responded. “But after I expressed my need of your specific assistance, I worked out a deal with her. If you agree to be my TA and work with me every day after school for an hour, you and your friends will be excused from detention.”

“Are you serious? For how long?”

“Permanently,” she replied. “Think of it as serving out your sentence by means of community service. Lady Agnue understands how much care is required for handling the Poppy. And when I explained how invaluable you would be to that work, but how reluctant you might be about accepting it, she agreed to the arrangement. Take the position as my teaching assistant, Crisanta, and you, Blue, and SJ are off the hook.”

I thought about the offer. Our detention sentence hadn’t been so terrible after I’d figured out how we could escape from the tower and hang out with the boys. But we couldn’t do that anymore. The magic hunters were still out there. And now that Lady Agnue had discovered and destroyed the vines that grew on Detention Tower Three, we no longer had a means of escape. As it stood, SJ, Blue, and I were going to be stuck serving our full sentence unless something changed.

Madame Alexanders was offering a way out for all of us. I had the opportunity to free us from our punishment by doing a few extra hours of schoolwork each week. After everything SJ and Blue had done for me in recent months, I reasoned that I owed it to them to take that offer.

“Fine, professor,” I eventually said. “I’ll be your TA. But just for the record, I still say you’re making a mistake by going with me instead of SJ.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Miss Knight,” Madame Alexanders responded. “You bring a lot more to the table than you realize. Now then, we shall begin our sessions next Monday. Four o’clock sharp, all right?”

“Um, yeah. Okay.” I shrugged.

“Good,” my professor said as she began to pack up her things with renewed enthusiasm. “Bring your textbook and a can-do attitude. With that and some faith, trust, and anti-rust lab equipment, I know we will do great things together.”

“Uh-huh. Sure, professor,” I said.

On that unconfident note, I rapidly made my way to the exit. When I slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind me, I was met by the perplexed expressions of Blue and SJ. Evidently, SJ had come back from the infirmary just in time to overhear the exchange between the professor and me.

“Tell me I have really bad eavesdropping skills and Madame Alexanders didn’t just ask you to be her TA for the semester,” Blue said.

I glanced over at SJ. Whether she admitted it or not, this had to hurt. She was already in a fragile emotional state over recent turns of events in her life.

When we met Liza last semester we learned that SJ didn’t have a protagonist book. She hadn’t been chosen as a protagonist like the rest of us. The ambassadors had forged a book for her, as they did for any royal not naturally selected by the Author. Since then, SJ had been sort of adrift. She denied this, of course, and had gone about her days without displaying any obvious signs of internal conflict. But Blue and I knew better than to believe the misdirect. The truth was obvious. When SJ discovered she hadn’t been chosen as a protagonist, she’d been totally shaken.

We’d supported her since the realization and hadn’t brought up the matter. After all, SJ didn’t need some book to prove she was special. She was SJ; being special was ingrained in her nature. She was one of the smartest kids in school, one of the kindest and most compassionate people in our realm, and had a prodigious talent for brewing potions that—when combined with her scientific curiosity and inventiveness—made her a rival to even the most renowned potionists in the world.

Even so, I understood from my own experiences that one’s great strengths could be easily forgotten when self-doubt was introduced. And it seemed that when Madame Alexanders offered me that TA job instead of her, I had inadvertently helped self-doubt settle more firmly into my friend’s mindscape.

“SJ, I’m so sorry,” I said hastily. “I tried to tell her that I was the wrong choice, that she was crazy not to pick you, but she wouldn’t listen. She told me that if I agreed to do it we wouldn’t have to serve any more detention. I thought taking the job would be best for all of us. But I swear, I’ll go back inside right now and refuse it if you want me to; I’ll insist that you’re the one for the job.”

SJ’s expression was blank. “No need,” she said calmly. “I heard everything, Crisa. I know what our teacher has to say about the matter, and about me.”

“SJ, you can’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She—”

“Crisa.” SJ held up a hand. “I appreciate you defending my skills, but if I had been the right person for the position, Madame Alexanders would have asked me outright. She did not; ergo, I am not the person she wants. Which means that you made the proper choice in taking her up on the offer. Anything else would have been illogical.”

“So . . . you’re okay then?” Blue asked carefully. She tried to put a hand on SJ’s shoulder, but SJ moved slightly out of reach.

“Of course,” SJ replied. “Now come. It is Panini Day; we should get to the banquet hall before all of the good sandwiches are taken.”

Blue and I began to follow her down the hallway. As we walked I marveled at the invisible walls I could sense SJ putting up with every passing step. I knew what doubt did to people. The memories of how it almost tore me apart were fresh. While the tone and small smile that came with SJ’s reply had been intended to suggest otherwise, I knew that she was anything but okay. Her eyes had given her away.

Make no mistake, I had no plans to become an antagonist. But the way SJ looked at me for a moment before averting her gaze—a look of sadness, maybe a little jealousy, and the incunabula of internal struggle burning inside—made me feel like a villain, and worse than I had in a long time.