by Talia Vance
My chest floods with warmth, a soothing heat that blooms from the inside and floats outward. I feel myself smile without knowing what I’m smiling about. I break free of Mick’s hold and the warmth is gone. “Are you using Compulsion?”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Don’t.”
“Fair enough.” He looks back down at the crumpled paper in his hand. “Shall we do this?” He stares at the schedule, but I know he’s not talking about high school. He’s asking to become my ally.
“That depends. Will you let me call you Mick?” He almost smiles. “You’re going to do it anyway.”
“Okay, Mick. Is that it? No blood oath or allegiance spell?”
“That’s it.”
“Then I guess we better get you to Calc before it’s too late to pretend that you’re still learning your way around campus.”
“I am still learning my way.”
“You’d think after a couple thousand years, you’d have things figured out.”
Mick does smile now. “You would think.”
He doesn’t say anything as we make our way into class. We have to sit a few rows apart since we’re too late to pick our seats, but every once in a while, I glance up and see him there, scribbling on his notepad as if this class is the most important thing in the world to him.
It’s all review from last year, so I don’t have to pay much attention, which is good, because all at once the world is in Technicolor. The green of the chalkboard, the threads of pink running through the beige carpet, the deep blue of the ink spilling from my pen, all compete for attention, forming a rainbow of promise.
Of possibility.
About the Author
Talia Vance has worked as a horse trainer, a freelance writer, and an attorney. She is analytical, practical, and a hopeless romantic. She lives in Northern California with her husband, children, and a needy Saint Bernard named Huckleberry. Talia always thought she’d grow up to write “the Great American Novel,” but her tastes ran more along the lines of torrid romances and fast-paced thrillers. So did her life. But that’s another story.
Visit Talia online at www.TaliaVance.com.