Ms. Yang caught him before he left the room. “Dylan, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Great. Now he was in trouble. His midterm grade was an A, but maybe it had dropped. Maybe she’d finally noticed how terrible he was doing. He followed her into the office.
“Have a seat, Dylan.”
“I’m screwing up. I know.” He slumped into the chair. Would he fail gym?
“I want to talk to you about that. Your attitude is different this year.” She leaned against the desk.
She was the one teacher he actually liked, and he hated disappointing her. “I suck.”
“No, you’re frustrated.”
“Because I suck.”
She sighed. “Dylan, you’ve always been one of my best students, but I see you struggling with matches now, and I’m concerned.”
He rubbed a hand along the armrest, feeling the smooth, foamy texture. “Guess I’m at the limit of my abilities.” Maybe he’d be dropped back to the intermediate class. God, how humiliating.
“I don’t think that’s true. I think something’s blocking you. Dylan, have you ever seen someone about the things that have happened to you the past few years? A psychologist or a counselor?”
He snorted a laugh. “No.”
She reached past him and opened a drawer, taking out a pad of slips. “I know you’re going to argue, but I want you to see the school counselor.” She grabbed a pen and started writing.
“I’m not going.” No way was he gonna sit in a room and talk to some guy about his feelings.
“Aiden went to Mr. Emery, and look how much that helped him.”
Dylan crossed his arms.
“I really think this struggle is in your head more than anything.” She tore off the slip and held it out to him. “You used to love my class, but now you come in here every day with a frown on your face. When you stop enjoying something you used to love, that’s probably a sign something is wrong.”
He glared at the little piece of paper. Going to the counselor felt like admitting defeat. Everyone would know he was weak and needed a shrink to fix him. But he wasn’t broken.
“Please, Dylan.”
Looking up at her, he asked, “What if I don’t go? You gonna flunk me?”
“No. You’re doing well enough to pass. But you’re clearly not doing well enough for yourself. Having full control of your power isn’t just about your abilities—you also need to have a strong mind.”
Which meant she thought he didn’t have that now. “I’m not weak.”
“Can you try it, just once? As a favor to me?”
Ugh, God. Now she was trying to manipulate him. But she’d always understood him more than any other adult, and he couldn’t help feeling like he’d been letting her down this whole year. “Fine.” He took the slip. “I’ll go once.”
* * *
Even the nightmarish creatures trying to kill Dylan’s character weren’t enough to distract him. Ms. Yang thought he was doing a shitty job in class because of mental problems, but Dylan wondered if there was another issue.
Aiden had a tutor to help him specifically with his fae powers. And he’d gotten amazingly good, especially considering he hadn’t known anything about magic until he got to Shadow Valley freshman year. Not quite three years of training, and he was better than Dylan now.
If Dylan wanted a tutor, there was really only one person that could do it. And she’d offered several times, but Dylan always turned her down. She’d mentioned it again just last week.
What was worse? Asking Mom for help or continuing to be humiliated in gym?
With a long, deep sigh, Dylan turned off the game and went downstairs. He found Mom in the library reading.
“Hey.”
She looked up, and he remembered the relief he’d felt when she came to rescue him from that warden. Her huge, red-scaled dragon form coming down from the sky had been the most wonderful sight. He wanted to be that strong, to go back to being confident he could take on anything.
Still, it was hard to get the words out. “Will you help me with my magic?”
A warm smile spread across her face. “Of course.”
He also remembered how she used to train him when he was young, how patient and proud she’d been. Around the same time he’d isolated himself from other kids, he’d stopped listening to her instructions.
“Do you want to start now?” she asked.
Sometimes he wondered why he fought her so much. All she ever did was encourage him, love him. “Yeah.”
“I think we should start with shape-shifting first.” She set her book down and stood. “You figured a lot out on your own, but your technique is extremely poor.”
Dylan bristled. “Poor?”
Mom laughed. “Don’t worry; we’ll fix that. You were the one who refused training this long.”
That was true. He’d ignored the expert right in his own house because he was being stubborn. Maybe asking for help didn’t make you weak if you ended up stronger in the long run.
* * *
Much as Dylan didn’t want to, he agreed to do homework before playing video games. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he flipped to the right page and took out his pencil. He had more stupid algebra problems to solve, but he had an even bigger problem weighing on his mind.
“Okay, so try to work some of those out, and tell me if you get stuck.” Aiden opened his math book on Dylan’s desk.
Dylan took a glance at the sprawl of numbers and letters Aiden had to make sense of and shuddered. “Actually, um, I want to ask you about something.” His heart sped up.
“What?” Aiden looked a little scared, and Dylan wondered what his friend thought he was going to ask.
“That counselor guy you go to, does it help?”
“Yeah.” Now Aiden looked confused.
Dylan looked down at his algebra book, not really seeing it. Better to just get it out. “Ms. Yang thinks I should talk to him. She thinks I’m messed up in the head and that’s why I suck at gym.”
“You don’t suck.” Aiden swiveled the chair to face him. “But I think talking to the counselor is a good idea. We almost got killed. Twice. If that didn’t bother us, we wouldn’t be normal people.”
“We’re not normal people,” Dylan pointed out.
Aiden frowned and dropped his gaze. Maybe Dylan shouldn’t have said that.
“Well, we’re close anyway,” Aiden said. “We have the same emotions, and our minds work in similar ways. Mr. Emery says human psychology works with just a few tweaks for supernaturals.”
“So you just tell this guy your problems, and he talks to you and that… fixes it?” Dylan found that hard to believe.
“Well, it’s not quite that easy. He sort of… helps you dig around in your own head and figure out why things bother you.” Aiden shrugged.
A frightening thought occurred to Dylan. “You didn’t tell him about us and Morgan, did you?” Although Dylan reminded himself that if Aiden ever changed his mind and turned him in, that was nothing less than Dylan deserved. The whole reason Aiden had to go to a counselor in the first place was because Dylan had attacked him. Burned him and caused him to have panic attacks. Dylan had hurt his best friend inside and out.
Aiden held a hand up, eyes going wide. “Of course not. Everything we talk about is under patient-doctor confidentiality, and he’s not supposed to tell anyone unless he thinks I’ll hurt myself or others, but I still would never tell him about that.”
The tight fear in Dylan’s chest eased.
“It’s hard to work around that, but he knows as much as he needs to in order to help me. Although”—Aiden looked a little guilty—“I did tell him you hurt me. The same story we told our parents. Training accident.”
“Oh, that’s fine.” Dylan had done a lot of dumb things in his life, but that was the only thing, down to his bones, that he wished he could go back and change. It was even worse than letting Morgan loose. Really? People died because of that. The dominoes were still falling from that action.
Last year three people in Shadow Valley and at least one outside town had been killed by a dark fae that had been set free by Morgan. Who knew how many Morgan himself had killed, and according to the dark fae Dylan had killed, more would be brought to this world. Or already had been.
“You should talk to him about that,” Aiden said gently. “I know you feel guilty for hurting me.”
Dylan nodded.
“I’m not mad at you for it. I know you didn’t mean it.”
But Dylan had, just for a second. In his anger, he’d wanted to make Aiden go away, any way he could. Dylan stared at the pages of his math book, the blank spaces and symbols a meaningless blur.
“And you were kidnapped, and we had to fight that warden,” Aiden said. “And then you were attacked by the dark fae, and then we were both attacked by him. So yeah, please go see the counselor.”
Dylan forced a smile. “Fine, bossy.”
“You don’t suck at gym, but I’ve noticed you’ve been really frustrated this year.” Aiden still had a mildly concerned expression.
“Because I’m losing. Although you’ve been doing awesome.” He shouldn’t be jealous of Aiden. His friend deserved everything good that happened to him, and more.
Aiden smiled. “Because I know how to work around my fear, because Mr. Emery helped me with that. He’ll help you too.”
Dylan sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”