by Sadie Moss
I don’t even know where to go next. I must have other classes, not just the one. But what those classes are, or where, or when—I have no fucking clue. And what if I have to do magic in them? I did it once but—could I possibly replicate that? How can I, when I don’t even know exactly how I did it this time? I just imitated everyone else.
Finally, the last set of footsteps fades from earshot, and the room goes quiet. I let out a shuddery breath, trying to decide on a course of action. I could just go back to the dorm room, I suppose? Hide out there until Bianca comes to find me?
It’s the best option I have right now.
But as I turn to leave, I realize I’m not alone like I thought I was. Someone steps in front of me, blocking my path.
It’s Cross.
That suspicious look is back on his face, but it’s more intense now—and I realize with a sinking feeling of dread that it’s no longer suspicion. It’s certainty.
“Who are you?” he asks.
No, demands.
Orders.
There’s no brooking an argument with his tone.
“I—what?” I stare at him, even as my stomach heaves and I think I might throw up. “I’m—it’s me. What are you talking about? Are you high or something?”
I have no idea if Cross does drugs, but it seems like something Roxie would say. I don’t know why, maybe it’s from listening to Bianca talk and watching how she interacts with me, but I’m kind of getting a… feel for how Roxie is. Who she is.
But then again, if this is just a dream or some really intense morphine trip, I’d subconsciously know a bit about who Roxie is anyway because she’s a product of my mind. So it all works out.
Cross, though? He doesn’t look impressed.
“I know you’re not Roxie,” he tells me flatly.
“What are you talking about?” I repeat, my voice cracking a bit in my panic and anxiety. “Of course I’m Roxie.”
“Mm, sure you are,” Cross replies, a knowing smirk curving his lips. “And I’m a unicorn.”
I blink at him. I mean, I think he’s kidding. But how the fuck do I know? Maybe he is a unicorn.
He crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Sure, you do look like her. And you even act like her—sometimes. But then there are those little moments where you slip, and I can see the panic in your eyes. Besides, there’s the tiny, infinitesimal problem that you don’t have any magic.”
Wait—what?
“I… do have magic. I just did some.”
“Ah, no, newbie, that’s where you’re wrong.” Cross points at himself, smugness radiating off of him. “I did that. I made your little dragon. I just did the hand movement where nobody could see and made sure it appeared in front of your shocked little face.”
Little?! Anger burns in my stomach, a knee-jerk reaction to my rising panic and fear. What—who does this bozo think he is?!
“The look on your face was priceless. Seriously.” Cross chuckles. “It was classic, I wish I’d caught it on camera or something.”
You know what? This guy’s hot, yeah. No denying that. But I can also see for sure why Roxie didn’t like him. I’ve been a little unsure about Roxie, from some of the ways that Bianca’s acted, but hell, it sounds to me like she had a perfectly good reason not to like this guy. I’m not a competitive person, and even I want to beat him at something just so I can erase that smug smirk from his stupid face.
“You know what?” I can hardly believe I’m saying this. “You can go fuck off, okay?”
Cross doesn’t look that put off by it, even though I’m a little surprised at my outburst. I don’t really tell people do to that. Like, ever.
“Okay.” He shrugs and turns, heading for the doorway.
Oh, no. As I watch his long legs carry him toward the exit, it strikes me in a horrible flash—I need him.
He’s the one person who knows the truth, and he covered for me. Maybe he plans to blackmail me about it later, but whether he does or not, he didn’t expose me and turn me in just now. And I have zero clue what I’m doing.
Bianca was a comforting buffer between me and the rest of the world, but I can’t ask her for help without admitting who I really am.
I’m drowning here.
Shit.
“Wait!” I call out.
Cross stops mid-stride and turns back slowly, a triumphant grin stretching over his face.
Ah, crap. He knew I’d call him back.
Oh well. There’s nothing I can do about it now. The situation is what it is. And I need help.
“Okay. You’re right,” I say in a rush. “I’m not Roxie. My name is Gabbi Telford. I’m from Baltimore. I fell into a—well, I fell last night, and when I woke up, I was here. I don’t know what happened, or how it happened, or how to fix it.”
I leave out the part about falling into a manhole. I mean, this guy’s obviously an asshole. Why would I give him more things to make fun of me about?
Cross regards me seriously, the grin fading from his face as he takes in the information I just unloaded on him. Then he nods once.
“Okay.”
“Okay, what? What do I do? Do you know anything that can help?”
“Well, I know your schedule,” Cross replies. “Your next class is down the hall to the right, third door on the left. History of Magic. You’ll be fine there. Here.” He pulls out a notebook and pen from his backpack and hands them to me. “Roxie’ll be pissed if she does badly on a test because you didn’t take notes.”
I stare down at the notebook like I’ve never seen one before in my life.
“Why would you care? Bianca says you two are rivals.”
“Yeah, we are. But I like to win at things fair and square, cupcake.”
My face heats up with annoyance and embarrassment. “I am not your cupcake.”
“That’s what your face looks like though. It’s adorable.” His voice gets all dramatic and squeaky as he says the last word, and ooooh, if I were the kind of person who punched people, my fist would already be planted in his face.
But I haven’t thrown a punch in my life, and I hear they hurt your hand like a son of a bitch. So, yeah, gonna have to pass on that.
I take the notebook and pen instead. “And after that?”
He shrugs. “Skip the next class. It’ll be too complicated, and you’ll be called on to do magic. I can’t cover for you all the time, especially when I’m not even in that class. Just head back to your room.”
“And?”
“And what? Do I look like your babysitter?” Cross rolls his eyes. “Be careful out there, cupcake. It’s a dangerous world. But just keep your head down, and you’ll be fine.”
He flashes me a final smile and a kind of cocky half-salute, and then saunters—literally saunters—out of the room.
Leaving me completely alone.
Chapter 6
I stare after Cross, my jaw hanging open.
You’ll be fine, he says, as if it’s not a big deal that I’ve been suddenly dropped into this world with no idea what the fuck is going on or how any of this works.
Well, he’s right about one thing. I shouldn’t skip both classes, should I? I should go to the history one, where at least I won’t have to worry about being called up to the front to demonstrate anything. And it’ll keep people from getting too suspicious. Skipping one class, no big deal. But the way Bianca talked about my rivalry with Cross, Roxie is clearly a driven person who gets top grades and likes to be the best. She wouldn’t just go ditching out on classes.
I get to the room where History of Magic is held—around the corner to the right, third door on the left—and take a spot in the back again. Hopefully nobody will sit near me.
The professor walks in as everyone settles. She’s a short woman with a pile of corkscrew red hair and an insane number of freckles. And behind her…
Oh, whoa.
I’m guessing this is the professor’s TA, from the way he walks behind her and helps her get set up, then
hands some papers out and begins writing on the board. He’s young, maybe a couple of years older than I am, with dark skin, insanely defined arms, and a strong, square jawline. He has a serious, thoughtful look about him.
As if he’s sensing my thoughts, the teacher’s assistant looks up, his gaze scanning over the students, glancing at each of us in turn—until he gets to me, and his eyebrows raise slightly.
His expression is… unreadable, but something. I don’t know what it is, but something is definitely going on in his head as he looks at me. Shit. Does he know I’m not Roxie as well? Already? All I did was walk in and sit down. Does he know—
“All right,” the professor says. She sounds like she’s one thousand percent done with the day. “Where the hell were we?”
“Um.” One of the students in the front row raises her hand, flipping through her notebook with the other. “You were going over myths and legends. Which ones are real and which ones aren’t. We left off at Triolopes.”
I don’t know what that word means, but she shudders as she says it, and I get the feeling that whatever a Triolope is, I don’t ever want to meet one.
“Ah. Yes.” The professor waves a hand in the air. “All right, then. What else? What other myths and legends are you dying to know about? Hit me with them, and we’ll talk about whether they have any basis in truth.”
A guy several seats to my left sits up straighter. “What about Nuckelavee, Angelique?”
Angelique, who’s apparently one of those professors who goes by her first name, purses her lips. “Their existence is unproven. There have been several reported sightings throughout history, but none confirmed. What we do know about them is that…”
She proceeds to describe a creature that sounds so horrifying I can only hope it’s a myth, seeming to relish the reaction she gets from her audience. Then she points to another student. “You. Hit me.”
The girl scrunches up her face for a second as she thinks, then says, “The Dull World?”
Angelique rolls her eyes heavenward, muttering something that sounds like “give me strength” under her breath.
Then she looks back at the girl. “And that right there is why it’s so important for all to be in my class. It’s a travesty that anyone in this room might actually consider that a myth.” She heaves a sigh and nods. “You’ve heard rumors all your life, I’m sure—wondering if it’s true, if there really is a Dull World. And I’m here to officially say that yes, there is another world parallel to ours.”
There are several mutterings of I knew it from some of the students around me. I lean forward in my seat, gaze riveted to the front of the room. I have no idea where she’s going with this, but I’m suddenly very glad I decided to come to this class.
Someone’s hand shoots up. “Angelique, is it true that—”
“How many times do I have to tell you little goblins that I’ll get there if you’ll just wait until the end of the lecture?” the professor says, making a tsking noise with her teeth. “Hold your winged horses.”
Her tone is exasperated but fond, and the student doesn’t seem all that upset at the response.
“So. The Dull World.” Angelique sighs and leans back heavily against her desk. “It’s a world that’s parallel to ours. They have cities, states, and countries just like we do, most of which roughly correspond to ours. Our worlds are parallel to one another. That means major historical events tend to… all come out the same in the wash. Some things happen there that don’t happen here, and vice versa, but it all ends up at the same destination in the end. You all know the Dragon Wars? Well, they had something called The Crusades instead.”
Holy shit.
I’m reeling. It’s like the world is no longer standing on its axis but is free falling through space.
“Think of it as two sides of a coin,” Angelique goes on. “The Hidden World on one side, and the Dull World on the other. That other world gets its name because—yup, you guessed it—they have no magic. No magical creatures, no magical spells, none of it.”
The guy who asked about Nuckelavees raises his hand. “If some people still think it’s a myth, how do we know so much about it?”
Angelique taps the pads of her fingers together. “At one point, this was all studied fairly extensively. However, early interactions between our two worlds showed two disturbing points of information—the first being that those in the Dull World will do next to anything to get ahold of our magic in order to gain power and use it against one another. That is why we stay hidden, and that is how our world got its name.”
Ohhhh my God.
Maybe it’s because I finally have some kind of explanation for what the hell is going on, but I’ve reached the point where I can’t deny it anymore.
This isn’t a dream. This isn’t an insane drug trip.
This is real.
I’m trapped in a magical world where I can’t trust anyone, and where they think that people from my world, my ordinary, non-magical world, are power-hungry assholes.
Actually… they’ve kind of got a point there.
If they find out where I’m from, will they think I’m evil? Will they try to lock me up or something?
I grip the edges of the desk as I suck in a shallow breath, trying to look somewhat normal while I’m doing it. There’s no reason for Roxie to be freaking out, so I can’t freak out.
Wait. If this is real, then where is the real Roxie? Is she okay? Did something happen to her? Is she dead?
I really hope she’s not dead, because if she is, where does that leave me? What about my family, what about my dance crew? What about my life?
“The Dull World is a bit of an open secret in our community,” Angelique goes on. “Generally speaking, its existence doesn’t impact yours at all. However, because people are idiots, some reckless souls have occasionally tried to access that world for an adventure or for a souvenir of some kind, and the results have been… disturbing.”
Disturbing? Oh, shit, does this mean I’m going to lose an arm or something if I try to go back to my world?
When I got to this world, I had a concussion, a broken arm, and who knows what other injuries. Getting back and forth between worlds must not be easy. How can I possibly manage it when I only did it by accident the first time?
“The biggest reason for this is, yes, your double.”
Everyone is dead silent. There’s no muttering this time.
Angelique rolls her eyes. “No, your double is not inherently evil. They are not out to kill you. They are simply the parallel version of you. Doubles are rarely born to the same parents, so if you were to visit that world, don’t think you’d find an exact copy of your life as you know it here. Personalities are wildly different, lifestyles are wildly different. Your double looks like you, they are genetically the same as you, but emotionally? Mentally? They are nothing like you.”
Okay, fair enough. Roxie sure doesn’t seem to be all that similar to me. But if she’s really my double, surely there must be some connection between us? I feel like I kind of… have a feel for her. Not like I can read her mind or anything, but almost as if I’ve met her somewhere, in a dream maybe, and that impression has stayed with me somehow.
“When you go to one world,” Angelique goes on, “your double has to come to the other. You have to swap. If you don’t…” She trails off, then shakes her head. “Well, you have to. Dimensional twins cannot exist in the same realm.”
I feel a little sick, like I just got off a rollercoaster and am contemplating barfing.
This is not good, this is not good at all.
“Now, I’ll go over a few times in history when our two worlds interacted,” Angelique says. “This will be on the final, so I’d pay attention if I were you. Or just wing it if you’re feeling lucky.”
I scramble to take notes as she goes on, but I don’t care so much about how those historical meetings went. All I really want to know is how I can get back to my world from this world.
I want
to find out how to get home.
My mind is absolutely reeling as class ends, and I wait until everyone’s gone—including the TA who was staring at me—then I slump back against the wall and slide to the floor.
So. Magic is real, but only in this world. I’m from the Dull World, where there’s no magic, and I don’t have any magical abilities to help me pass in this world. I have a double named Roxie who swapped places with me for unknown reasons and by some unknown means, and she’s probably out there ruining my entire life right now.
I mean, I want to think the best of her. But I’m pretty sure I’m running around ruining her life too, whether I mean to or not, just because I know nothing about this world.
I can’t think of the last time I felt this terrified. I hug my knees and take several deep breaths. I’m smart, right? I can do this. I can manage this, right? Right.
…right.
I get up and walk out the door—only to have the door nearly slam into my face as it’s opened by Bianca.
“Hey, are you skipping too?” she asks. “Thought you might be. C’mon!”
Oh, Lord. I do not want to get dragged somewhere new by Bianca and have someone else find me out.
Can I trust Bianca? Theoretically, she’d be the best person to talk to about this, since she’s Roxie’s best friend. Although maybe that actually makes her the worst person to tell. What if she blames me for Roxie’s disappearance and turns me in?
No, it’s better that as few people know as possible. Cross knows, and that’s not ideal, but he’s just one person.
Just one annoying attractive, obnoxious person.
Bianca leads me outside, chattering about the latest hot gossip. I’m sure it’s juicy, but I can hardly process a word she’s saying, and all the names she’s throwing out are making my head spin.
“How was your morning?” I blurt out, trying desperately to steer the subject back to something less overwhelming.
Bianca stares at me. “What?”
“I just… you know. That’s all fascinating, but I want to hear about you.” I need to, honestly. The better I get to know Bianca, the better my odds are of not blowing my cover as Roxie.