Wicked Academy 1: The Magic Elite

by Nissa Leder

  Students begin separating into the girls’ and boys’ locker rooms.

  Elaine and I follow the line in.

  “Holy crap,” I say when I walk into the room.

  The “locker room” looks more like a celebrity dressing room than a sports changing room. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling over plush leather benches decorated with brass buttons.

  Instead of the typical dial locks, the lockers use our handprint to lock and unlock. And not in some high-tech way, but with magic instead. When my palm presses against the metal of the locker, a chill runs through me. Somehow, my magic has its own identity, as individual to me as my fingerprint.

  I change into black leggings, a matching form-fitting tank top, and black sneakers then join everyone in the gym.

  Unlike the locker room, which looks way fancier than any locker room I’ve ever seen, the gym appears more standard. A track surrounds a basketball court, with bleachers on the outside on each side. Instead of a usual light brown, the court floor is maroon with white lines.

  Standing in front of everyone is a short, stocky guy. With a bald head and large muscles, he looks like some body-builder. “Welcome to Combat. I’m Professor Thornburn, but you can just call me Thornburn. Rule number one of this class: no magic.”

  This earns a collective sigh from the group.

  “Now, now, don’t be babies,” he says. “Magic can only take you so far sometimes. And when it isn’t enough, or heaven-forbid something happens and you can’t wield it, then you need to know how to protect yourself.” A student raises his hand. “Yes?”

  “When would we ever not be able to use our magic?”

  “Perhaps you’ve been poisoned with a magic-blocking potion. Or you’ve entered a zone that has been spelled to prevent the use of magic. Or you’re in a class where you’re not allowed to wield it and you don’t want to get your ass kicked by the teacher.” This earns a laugh from everyone. “The best Protectors are the ones who are always a step ahead of their enemies, and learning how to be competent without magic is crucial.”

  Thornburn separates us into two groups. “The first step to being a combat master is conditioning. Group one to the sideline for sprints, group two start walking around the track.”

  Elaine and I are both in group one and line up next to each other on the outside of the court.

  “I grew up as an Ordinary basketball player,” Thorburn says. “And I always hated sweet-sixteens. So naturally, I’m going to take my adolescent frustration out and make you all do them.”

  I’ve never played basketball, so I have no idea what he’s talking about until he explains the drill. We start on one sideline and sprint across the court to the other then back to where we started. Every time our foot touches one of the sidelines, it counts as one. And we have to get to sixteen.

  He blows the whistle, and we start. By the time I’m to eight, my heart is thumping so hard, I swear it might leap from my chest just to make this drill stop. By twelve, my vision clouds. For the last four, my pace slows to a pathetic walk, but somehow I finish.

  I grip my legs as I bend over and gasp for air. After a few deep breaths, I glance around and see others doing the same. At least I’m not the only one dying.

  The groups switch, so I start walking laps around the track as the other half of the class has its turn to sprint. I’m thankful to have the hard part over with.

  When they’re all done, and I’ve watched two girls and one guy sprint to the garbage can to puke, Thornburn calls everyone over.

  “That’s a decent start,” he says. “Every Monday is conditioning. By the end of the semester, you’ll have to be able to complete that in under a minute if you want to earn a passing grade.” Everyone but a group of a few guys who must be gluttons for torture groans. “Tomorrow we’ll start our first fighting lesson. Now go shower. You all stink. Better hurry, though. Your next class starts in fifteen minutes.”

  He doesn’t have to tell any of us twice. We all head straight into the locker rooms.

  Two classes down, four more to go.

  Somehow, I manage to make it on time to third-period Incantations, which thank god, doesn’t include any cardio.

  The professor goes over the syllabus and makes us all introduce ourselves, but we don’t get to do any actual magic yet. But tomorrow we start to learn our first spell, and I can’t wait.

  With three classes down, I follow the other freshmen to lunch on the second floor of the West Wing and into a large ballroom that’s already over half full with upperclassmen. Round tables covered in white linens fill the room, and it feels more a wedding reception than a college dining hall.

  Buffet tables line the room. I’m starving, so I get in line. Waking up late meant no time for breakfast, which is bad enough. But running sprints has my stomach grumbling louder than ever before. After loading my plate with an assortment of gourmet-looking food, I spot Olivia and Micah at a table near the middle.

  “So, were you epically late to first period?” Micah asks with a full mouth.

  “God, Micah. Manners,” Olivia says.

  “Sorry,” he says.

  “I think I was a little late, but Professor Abbey didn’t seem to mind.” I sit next to Olivia. “My new potions partner was less than enthused, though.” The thought of Bianca makes my stomach twist. This food looks too good to let go to waste, so I push her out of my mind before I lose my appetite completely. “How’s your first day going?”

  “Good. I can’t wait to actually learn some magic, though. This morning’s been full of Sorcery talk, but no actual spells.” Olivia scoops a bite of potatoes into her mouth.

  “Have you had Combat yet?” The muscles in my legs tighten at the memory of second period.

  They both shake their heads.

  Micah swallows his bite. “We have it together next period.”

  “Oh, god. Don’t eat too much,” I say.

  Olivia sets her spoon down. “That bad?”

  Micah shoves in another mouthful.

  “I wouldn’t want to show up on a full stomach. That’s for sure.” I pick up the slice of warm French bread and bite into it. Lucky for me, Combat is before lunch. I already burned off at least three lunches worth of food.

  Olivia listens to my warning, but Micah completely ignores it.

  “I heard two guys talking about you in first period,” Olivia says. “Apparently, they made a bet. Whoever lures you into the sack wins. Loser has to run across the courtyard naked.”

  “Seriously? They don’t even know who I am.” My apparent infamy is way worse than I thought.

  “But they know who your good ol’ grandpa is.” Micah sticks his fork into a piece of meat. “Bet they think you’ll make them famous.”

  “I’ve never even met him, so they’re going to be sorely disappointed.” That and the bet I made with Zane is going to have me keeping my pants—well, skirt—on all semester. Not that I’d sleep with some loser who only wants me to win a bet or get to know my grandpa.

  “Well, I mean, if one of them managed to bang you, I don’t think they’d be all that bummed,” Micah says, earning a scowl from Olivia. “What? She’s hot.” He looks at me. “You’re a pretty lady, Wren. And I’ve seen your boobies, so I’m a good judge.” He takes another bite of food.

  Olivia leans her head back and sighs. “Micah has an inflated ego because he’s managed to date all the girls in his small town.”

  “Not all of them,” Micah says. “Though I do like to think of myself as a bit of a ladies’ man.” He shrugs. “But don’t worry, Wren. You’ve been quarantined to the friend zone. I don’t like drama, and in my experience, dating a friend never ends well.”

  I laugh. “You’re so kind.”

  I can’t deny that Micah is handsome. He has a careless smile that reaches all the way to his eyes when he laughs, and he has just the right balance between cool and sincere. But I can’t see ever thinking of him as more than a friend, so I’m glad we’re on the same page.

&
nbsp; But I can’t say the same for Olivia.

  She’s scrolling through something on her phone with a clenched jaw. If it weren’t for her sudden sad expression, I wouldn’t think too much about it. But I get the feeling that she isn’t a fan of Micah’s no-dating-friends rule. Or the fact he saw me topless.

  Even after I’ve finished every last bite of food on my plate, I’m still hungry.

  “I’m going to go see if there’s dessert.” I make my way back to the buffet. Everyone’s already dished up, so there’s no line this time. At first, I’m disappointed to find nothing sweet to eat. But then I spot a separate table at the far end of the room.

  As I get closer, I see the assortment of cakes, pies, and cookies. Perfect.

  “Ahh, another fellow sweet-tooth,” someone says behind me.

  I turn to see my brother’s friend Kaz smiling at me. “Please tell me you’ve already had your Combat class, or I’ll have to urge you to reconsider.”

  “Second period,” I say.

  Kaz pretends to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Whew. That means you’ve earned at least two desserts.”

  “At least.”

  We approach the table together.

  Everything looks delicious. There are four different types of cheesecake. Cherry, pumpkin, and pecan pie. And a three-layer chocolate cake with fruit filling.

  “How am I supposed to pick?” I ask.

  Kaz slips a slice of cake onto a plate. “Speaking from experience, you can never go wrong with chocolate at Wicklow.” He reaches out the plate. As he extends his arm, his rolled-up sleeve rides up and I notice a black design tattoo below his elbow.

  “Thanks.” I take it from him.

  He grabs a fork and stabs it into my cake. “I could share more of the many Wicked Academy secrets I’ve learned if you’d like.”

  “You do seem rather wise,” I joke.

  “I don’t offer to share my wisdom very often.” He tilts his head to the side and stares at me with a hopeful grin.

  God, I’m such a sucker for blue eyes, and his might be the brightest I’ve ever seen. “Is that so? I don’t know how I can refuse such a generous proposal.”

  He dishes himself up a piece of cake. “Do we have a date then?”

  “I guess we do.”

  Five

  After a long first day of meeting my new professors and hearing about everything we’re going to learn this semester without actually learning anything, I finally make it back to my room and fall back onto the bed.

  Despite feeling in my core that everything they’ve told me about magic existing is true, it’s hard to fully believe. Besides Ms. Ballard’s performance on the boat, or Olivia’s sad attempt at one, I haven’t actually seen any more magic.

  After learning about its existence, I expected to see things floating around the air, people dressed in cloaks and hats, and cauldrons brewing crazy potions. I’m starting to think I watched too many Halloween movies as a kid.

  Somehow, despite the elegance of the academy, today felt nearly normal.

  I close my eyes and relax for a few minutes, searching for the magic within me. While a part of me knows deep down magic exists, I don’t actually feel it inside me. What if the serum Ms. Ballard injected me with doesn’t actually work? What if I’m some freak who can’t use her powers?

  Wouldn’t that be ironic?

  Everyone and their brother seems to know who I am, which means if I totally suck, everyone will notice.

  I prop myself up and scoot my butt to the edge of the bed. Olivia still isn’t here, and I’m bored, so I might as well do something.

  I clear my throat and my mind as I turn my palm toward the ceiling like Olivia did when she created the flicker of fire in her hand.

  Am I supposed to say a spell or something? No, I don’t remember Olivia speaking anything aloud. Maybe there’s an incantation I need to think. If so, I’m screwed.

  But maybe I just need to channel the magic inside me.

  I can do this. How hard can it be?

  I stare at my hand and wait. Nothing happens. I try again, this time thinking about fire. Still nothing.

  With a deep breath, I narrow my eyes and stare at my hand, commanding the fire within me to burn.

  And nothing.

  As I’m about to give up, a piece of paper appears in my palm.

  Not exactly what I was going for, but maybe I performed some other spell.

  I unfold the paper and read the handwritten note.

  Wren,

  Meet me on the bottom floor of the East Wing by the stairs at 9 tonight for our date.

  Get ready to absorb all the wisdom ;)

  Kaz

  “What’s that?” Olivia asks, the door shutting behind her.

  I jump and the letter falls to the floor. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “Apparently you were distracted.” She grins. “Don’t tell me you have a secret admirer already?”

  “Not a secret one,” I say. “It’s from my brother’s friend.”

  “The guy I saw you flirting with by the desserts at lunch?”

  “We weren’t…” I start, ready to deny it. Then I realize we sort of were flirting. Not the over-the-top kind. But the cute, feel the other person out type. “Okay, we sort of were. But I think Kaz is just a flirty guy.”

  “Who already wrote you a love letter?”

  I reach down and grab the paper. “It isn’t a love letter. He offered to show me around Wicklow later.”

  “Like a date?”

  I shrug. “I suppose you could call it that.” I don’t know why I’m denying it. He literally called it a date. “Who knows, though. It might totally blow.”

  “It might or you might?” Olivia sticks out her tongue and wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Oh my god!” I grab a pillow and chuck it at her. She dodges the attack. “He’s just giving me a tour.”

  “Of the campus or something else?” Olivia picks up the pillow and throws it back at me.

  I shake my head. “Just the campus.” I think of the sliver of tattoo I saw, and can’t help but wonder what other ink he has.

  No, Wren, I remind myself. You are here to learn magic, not explore tattoos on some guy, no matter how hot he is.

  “And what about you?” I ask. “Any love interests in your life. Maybe one that starts with an M and ends with an ‘icah?’”

  Her mouth clamps shut. “Micah doesn’t date friends.”

  “That doesn’t mean his friend doesn’t want to date him.”

  Olivia eyes the door. “He isn’t wrong. You get one shot when you date a friend. If things don’t work out, then you risk losing years of friendship.”

  “But what if it goes well? You end up in love with your best friend. Happily ever after.”

  “And how often does that happen?” Olivia walks to her dresser and pulls out a change of clothes.

  I wish I had some perfect example of friends turned lovers gone right, but honestly, I’ve never dated a friend. Zane is the closest thing to a guy friend who I’ve hooked up with, but we aren’t friends in the same way Olivia and Micah are. We’ve perfected the friends-with-benefits model, but that’s because we haven’t expected anything more.

  “How did you and Micah meet?” I slip my boots off and kick them toward my closet.

  “I was raised in the Seattle area where my parents are Protectors, so I went to Ordinary schools as a kid. But my parents wanted me to learn about the Sorcery world, so I spent summers with my aunt in Coast Hollow, one of the magic towns on this island.” Olivia slips out of her skirt and into leggings. “I thought leaving all my friends for the summer would be miserable, but on my second day at my aunt’s, I met the cute neighbor boy with chestnut hair and hazel eyes, and well, let’s just say summers were always my favorite time of the year.”

  “And he has no clue how you feel?”

  “None whatsoever. For a self-proclaimed ladies’ man, he can be quite blind.” She laughs. “But it’s okay, honestly. I
’m used to it. Someday I’ll meet Mr. Dreamy and laugh at all the hours I wasted pining over the boy-next-door.”

  Olivia and I spend the next two hours sitting on my bed and sharing childhood stories with each other. Her mom and dad are Protectors like my parents, which she explains as the magical version of law enforcement. Unlike me, whose parents kept their true career hidden, she’s always known about the Sorcery world. But to keep their cover, she grew up going to school with non-magic kids.

  She’s super artsy, and loves anything creative or musical. And used to want to become an indie music sensation. Her parents convinced her to come to Wicklow, but she has her own YouTube channel with over fifty thousand subscribers where she plays guitar and piano and sings.

  “You’re basically perfect,” I say. I almost add that that Micah is an idiot not to have asked her out years ago, but I bite my tongue. I don’t think she needs to be reminded of her unrequited love.

  “Not even,” she says. “But I am starving. You were right, Combat was brutal. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Wanna get dinner?”

  At the thought of food, my stomach grumbles. “Sure.”

  I change into skinny jeans and a t-shirt and we head back to the dining hall, if it can be called that. Micah meets us there, and we all stuff ourselves beyond reason. After dessert, the three of us come back to my and Olivia’s room to hang out.

  Olivia grabs a card deck from her nightstand and she and Micah play a card game while I get ready for Kaz’s tour.

  Even though it’s technically a date, I’m not actually sure if it’s romantic. I’m the little sister of his friend. For all I know, he’s just trying to be nice.

  I pull my hair up into a loose messy bun and touch up my lipstick. I don’t want to overdo it, so I stop there.

  I grab my phone and check the time: 8:55.

  “All right, I’m taking off,” I say.

  Olivia pulls her hand of cards into her chest. “Be safe. Don’t stay out too late. Use protection.” She laughs.