When I arrived at school for my second day, it hadn't burst into flames. Kids walked up and down the halls like normal. Nobody was screaming in terror. There was no sign of the apocalyptic scene I'd been dreading. In fact, James stood in front of his locker, considering his books like everyone else in the hallway. He glanced in my direction for a split second, but that was all the attention he paid me.
At first, I thought it was because Gavon had said something. But as the day wore on, I realized it was because I didn't matter to him, not when there were girls in every class giving the new guy the starry-eyed treatment. As expected, Super Hot plus New meant he was immediately popular. He certainly didn't seem eager to hurt any of them; quite the opposite in fact.
Which begged the question: How did a boy who'd grown up in a world stuck in 1692 fare in the modern world?
To my utter annoyance, better than me.
He remained quiet during classes, not offering answers to any of the questions, except once in physics when he was called upon. In between, he was usually swamped by people, asking him questions about his likes and dislikes. Once I'd stopped glowering at him and actually listened, I realized he was giving a lot of non-answers and vague replies. To the normal ear, this was typical of a seventeen-year-old and probably added to his air of mystery.
To mine, though, it sounded like the same methods Gavon might've used when he'd first crossed over to this side. Had he taught James how to be a chameleon in an unfamiliar place? Or was James simply one of those people who could adapt?
The questions plagued me for most of the day, taking my attention away from class. Every time my mind wandered to the lecture, I would wrestle it back to James, watching him for signs of evil doing or anything that would give me a reason to blow his ass out of the school.
"You have to stop glaring at me," he said, standing in my path after lunch.
"I will when you leave my school," I retorted.
The corner of his mouth quirked up in an evil smile he apparently reserved just for me. "No."
"Then let's do this for real," I said, closing in on him. "Think you can get away from your master?"
There was a flash of something in his eyes—but whether it was challenge or fear, I couldn't tell. "You should be thanking your father for stepping in. Had we dueled, you most assuredly would've been killed."
"Is that so?" I said, brushing away the emotions that bubbled up. "As I recall, I kicked your ass two years ago with nothing but a few months of training—"
He scoffed. "You did no such thing. I was about to land the killing blow when your family interrupted."
"And that's why you fainted?" I taunted. My magic was humming now and, despite the dangers this conversation posed, I was ready to face them. "Tonight. For real this time. No Gavon. Just you and me—"
"I—" he started, and I saw it—uncertainty. It was quickly masked by indifference. "No. You aren't worth the effort. Just accept I'm the superior magical and quit bothering me."
My jaw fell to the floor. I didn't know James very well, but I knew him well enough to know he would never walk away from a fight. But it wasn't just his words that shocked me. He'd been ready to duel me, but something had stopped him. I doubted it was fear because it was clear he wasn't afraid of me.
Whatever it was had been stronger than his ego—and that was saying something.
Some of my worry eased as the second day of school wore on. James showed no signs of magic that I could see. Perhaps, for once, Gavon was telling the truth about James' purpose for being here. At least partially.
The other reason became clear halfway through world history, when I recalled a particular comment from my brief, horrific time with Cyrus. He'd said I was to be the next Guildmaster, a child born of both worlds that could help lead the takeover. Gavon, too, had mentioned that he'd spent the past thirty years learning everything he could. Perhaps this wasn't just about "knocking him down a few pegs," but about gathering intelligence on our world for their grand schemes. And while that didn't make me completely at ease, it did change my defensive strategy from active to observational. I would keep an eye on him, watch for signs that he was doing more than simply charming the pants off every girl in the school, and return to my studies.
And the mountain of other stresses I'd momentarily cast aside—including the three classes that had assigned homework I hadn't done.
Starting the semester with zeroes was enough to scare me into forgetting about James and focus on school. Georgetown wouldn't accept "saving the world from evil magicals" as an extra-curricular activity. I also had volunteer hours to worry about and tutoring this afternoon to make up for missing the day before. It would be a feat to accomplish everything, but this wasn't my first rodeo.
After school, I transported myself to the county animal shelter for my four hours of volunteer time. It wasn't that I was particularly fond of animals, but the volunteer work was done solo, allowing me to cheat a little. I signed in at the welcome desk, waving to Cindy, the manager. She was a bit weird, definitely overworked, but kind. And the best part: she never bothered me while I worked.
The dogs in the kennels began barking and jumping when I walked into the back room where we held them. I glanced at the recording camera then floated a little magic toward it. Magic and electronics didn't mix so well, but with a very light touch, I could play with it. In my mind's eye, I overlaid the image of me cleaning out each of the stalls for the next hour. Then, with a flick of my wrists, the kennels were clean, the water bowls replaced, and fresh water added.
To boot, I magically petted and scratched all the dogs behind the ears. The barking ceased as they relaxed. They'd stay this way for a while, and I figured it was the good that canceled out the bad of using magic for everything else.
Speaking of which, my phone vibrated, signaling it was time to head to my second job. I reset the alarm for an hour then transported myself out of the kennel to the nearby library. I arrived in the usual bathroom stall, listening for the sounds of anyone else in the room before walking out.
My shoulders drooped when I saw the kid sitting at my normal table.
"Hi Charles," I said, forcing a smile onto my face.
"Hullo," he said, glancing around nervously. Thirteen years old, he didn't want any of his friends knowing he was getting study help. Little did he know that I cast a charm around our table to keep them away. It was another addition to the "good powers" column that assuaged my guilt over using magic in every day situations.
I wished I could use magic to tutor Charles. He was a good kid, just easily distracted and seemingly impervious to my usual methods of helping. Most kids just needed someone to walk them through the steps slower than their teachers did. But Charles wasn't getting the concepts at all.
"This doesn't make any sense," he growled, throwing his pen down.
"Look," I said, growing frustrated myself. "It's simple. We're just solving for X. You need to—"
I pinched the bridge of my nose when my phone vibrated. It was too soon for the hour to be up, and my phone notifications were empty. That mean someone had tripped the charm around the kennel.
I popped to my feet. "Hang on, I need to grab this. Work on those problems, and I'll come back and check on them."
I ducked between two library stacks and transported myself back to the kennel before anyone saw me. I materialized just as the door was opening, and quickly forced an easy smile onto my face. "Hiya Cindy."
"Hi, Lexie. You sure finished quick today," she said, walking in a pair of prospective adopters. "Guess you can sign out early."
I hid the grimace—I'd only clocked twenty minutes instead of the full four hours of volunteer time. But I couldn't argue with her, so I dutifully went to sign out before returning to the library.
Where Charles was gone.
"Perfect."
In lieu of using magic, I scoured the library for him. Twenty minutes later, I found him climbing into his mother's car. She did not look pleased.
"What am I paying you for if you're taking personal calls instead of tutoring my child?" she barked. She was one of those mothers who wore her hair short, her makeup severe, and drove a minivan filled with sports equipment.
"My…sister was in the hospital," I lied, wishing I sounded more convincing. "I apologize, it won't happen again—"
"It won't. And you won't get your check today either."
I should've expected that. Charles gave me a forlorn look from the backseat as they drove away, and I was left with the particular sense of failure that I'd screwed up not one but two jobs today. The money wasn't much—twenty bucks for two hours of tutoring—but if I lost Charles as a weekly check, that would be a problem. I prayed Mrs. Gilly wouldn't be too put out as I walked back to my bathroom to transport myself home.
I was exhausted, but two days' worth of homework welcomed me when I got to my bedroom. My head ached, but I dutifully summoned my physics textbook and began to read.
Well, I wouldn't call it reading per se, as I was scanning the pages with my magic, looking for the answers to my homework questions, which would be scribbled down with a magically-assisted pen.
"You can't use magic to do your homework." Jeanie's voice floated through the back of my mind and I put the book down. I didn't use my magic to cheat on tests, but I'd used it to help out on all the essays and research papers that had accumulated my junior year. It had reduced six hours' worth of homework to one, allowing me to pile on all the other things, like volunteering and tutoring.
But Jeanie was always there, in the back of my mind. The day she'd told me about my magic, she'd said it wasn't a big deal. Just another sense, that it wouldn't change anything about my life. I wished I could say she'd been right. Everything about my life was different.
Especially because she wasn't in it.
I'd never been as close to my aunt as I was with Nicole, but I noticed her absence unexpectedly. Sometimes, I'd catch myself waiting to hear her walk through the door. When Nicole and I would go out to eat at our favorite Mexican restaurant, I'd listen for the sound of her saying "margarita." I'd see a woman with short brown hair out on the town, and a flutter of hope would course through me. But my nightmares always ended with her dead, lifeless eyes staring back at me, and I knew she was truly gone. I felt no closure, though. There'd been no funeral for us to celebrate her life, to say our final goodbyes.
The familiar pang of loneliness threatened to bubble up, now combined with the newest memory of Gavon. It was so easy to fall into his trap—him saying how powerful I was, how proud he looked—but the truth was in his actions.
Scratching drew my attention; the pen had run out of paper and was writing on the wood of my desk. I waved my hand to stop the spell. Instead of my physics homework, the page was filled with the outpouring of all the emotions I'd just been feeling. I used my magic to lift the ink off the page and return it to the pen, leaving the homework page blank.
And with a heavy sigh, I picked up the pen and began to write.