by D. R. Perry
“Oh, I’ve got a reputation for more than supreme intelligence.” I almost couldn’t believe Bobby was trying to kid around again. Probably just a way to stay awake, but that was my assignment. I could play that game. “Haven’t you heard my big snarky attitude has been everywhere?”
“Just today. Mostly, you have a reputation for acing every subject.” He yawned. “Rumor is, you’re the type of girl who never gets Bs.”
“Be glad I’m using my academic powers for good, then.” I glanced at the shelf labels as I stalked past them, searching for the right ones.
“Oh yeah, I’m glad. I can imagine what might happen if you went over to the Dark Side.”
“And that is?” I smirked at the Star Wars reference, imagining the Imperial March playing as I paced the stacks.
“Darth Lynn would convince every professor to use a pass/fail rubric. Guys like me would end up with our borderline grades force-choked.” I snorted, barely stopping myself from belly-laughing in the library. That’d be almost sacrilege for me. A book slid out and then in again all on its own.
“Thanks, helper ghost,” I said to the not so thin air. Just because some people in the library were dead was no reason to forget to thank them. Then, I looked over my shoulder at Bobby. “This is the place.” I scanned the spines of some seriously old books. “Wow. Some of these should be in a museum.”
“Yeah, kind of like Watkins.” I couldn’t believe he’d said something like that out loud. I turned to look at his face and saw a hint of seriousness in his eyes.
“Hey, I know he’s old, but he’s not so bad.” I reached up, trying to grab the book I wanted. I missed, of course. “Height fail.”
“I got it.” Bobby handed me the book my fingertips had barely brushed.
“I’d thank you, but you should be thanking me.” I hooked my arm around the thick volume, locking it against my hip. “Three more books and we can check out and hit the dining hall.” The other books I wanted were all in easy reach behind me.
“Yeah, I’m starving.” Bobby laced his hands together and stretched them over his head again. Holy boulder shoulders. I tried not to look, but then he patted his abdomen. “I’ve got a bear in there, you know.” He winked like I was cute or something. “Your buddy said I shouldn’t eat too much, though.”
“My what?” I blinked, then shook my head feeling for all the world like I had water in my ears. Had I heard him right?
“Your friend, Josh, the wolf-man.” Bobby leaned one elbow on the desk as the live and visible library aide scanned my ID and then the barcodes on the books. Not everyone working at the PPC Library and Media Center was dead.
“Josh isn’t my friend, just a guy I pissed off at orientation.” I clutched the books to my chest and pushed out the door.
“Oh.” Bobby yawned again, distorting and stretching out his apology. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. He’s not.” I slapped on that fake smile again and descended the library steps, glancing back at the snow pile on the overhang. I took a deep breath to get rid of the sense of some rude waterfowl walking over my grave. Feathery jerks should be on a platter at Christmas dinner, not freaking people out. “Neither am I, for that matter.”
“Okay.” Bobby followed me, then lifted his head and wrinkled his nose. “Hey, do you think they’d put bacon on my salmon?”
“What on your who now?” I kept walking. We both had a ton to learn and not much time. I should ask questions on the move. It might help keep the sleepiest were-bear in the world awake, too. Picking up the pace would be even better. I amped up my cold weather stride to a trot.
“Well, I smell both types of meat, but not together.” He picked up his pace to keep up with me.
“That’s some sense of smell you’ve got there, bear Padawan. Can you lift rocks with that nose, too?”
“Your geek is showing.” He chuckled. “And only in a swamp. That’s not a grizzly’s natural habitat, but it’s the only one I’ve known until this fall. All the Tremains are from Louisiana, which is an awful lot like Dagobah.”
“Don’t you dare tell anyone there’s an X-wing under your back yard, Tremain. The Empire will be on us faster than you can yawn again.” I surprised myself by giggling. Bobby was actually kind of fun even if it probably was just a temporary symptom of his woozy state.
“I swear I’ll never tell.” Bobby drew one finger in an “x” shape on the left side of his chest. That smile made his whole face light up, reminding me I’d better stop caring. He was so far out of my league he really might as well be on Dagobah. At least, I’d have someone nice to look at over remedial Ecology material. I told myself that’s all he could be, extra credit and eye candy.
“Wow, if I’d known tutoring inspired this kind of loyalty, I’d have started doing it in Kindergarten.” I rolled my eyes. Bobby opened the door to the dining hall for me. I tried not to let myself imagine this was a date. He opened the second door inside the vestibule, making me fail.
“You know, they don’t have doors like this in Louisiana. It never gets cold there.” His voice behind me was practically in my ear. I tried to hide the shiver at feeling his breath stir my hair. I made a beeline for the nearest table, needing to get away from him all of a sudden.
“There must be tons of differences for you.” I plunked my books down on an empty table, my backpack too. “Culture-shock city.”
“Oh yeah.” He stretched his arms over his head again as he walked toward the food counters. I could get used to watching that, but shouldn’t. After he passed this class, Bobby Tremain would probably never say a word to me again. We weren’t likely to have many more classes together, either. We couldn’t possibly have the same major.
“Hey, what’s your major, anyway?” When he sent a puzzled glance over his shoulder, I shrugged. “It might help with how we study. If I know the context you need this class for, I mean, besides it being a basic requirement for half the non-magical majors here.”
“Forestry.” He gave me that sleepy half-smile again and picked up a tray. “I know, big surprise. A bear shifter studying for a career in the middle of nowhere.”
“Well, that’s actually good.” I got a bowl and went straight to the rows of cereal dispensers instead of bothering with the hot meal line. “You really need Ecology in that major. It’s the foundation for all the rest of your studies.”
“I know.” He held his hand out to take a plate piled with bacon and put it on his tray. He waited as the kid behind the counter went to the grill for something else. “I’m really kicking myself over my grades taking a nosedive. It’s just like you said. Everything here is different from where I grew up. The campus is in the middle of a city, plus the climate.”
“It doesn’t help that Watkins is so old-school he only gives two exams and a lab grade, either.” I shook my head as I poured milk over my cereal. “High stakes classroom is what he runs. I love that kind of thing, but not everyone can be Darth Lynn.”
“I aced lab, but got a D on the mid-term.” Bobby thanked the counter kid for his plate of fish.
We walked back to our table, plunked our trays down, then sat in front of our meals. He cracked his knuckles, then used his fork to transfer bacon onto the salmon fillets. After that, he tucked in, devouring fish and pork with a beatific expression.
“Well, there’s hope for you yet, bear Padawan.” I fumbled at the empty space on the right of my tray. “Crap on a cracker. I forgot my spoon. And you’ve got no napkins either.” I headed back toward the condiments and silver-ware table to fix that, pronto. Surely, eating would keep him awake long enough?
Chapter Three
Bobby
I watched Lynn go, my gaze going up from her hips to her shoulders. She seemed fun under all the sarcasm, so I couldn’t figure out why she was always alone. Maybe her friends were all in her dorm or something. I noticed her drooping shoulders and realized the downward slant of them hinted that she was lonely. I took a deep breath through my nose, singling out her scent from
the rest in the dining hall. For whatever reason, my already astute sniffer had gone into overdrive since the snow.
That’s when I realized Lynn Frampton smelled unhappy. The joking, the can-do attitude about academics, was all some kind of mask. Underneath that, something told me she felt more out of place here at PPC than I did. I glanced around at the packed tables, but my nose told me more than my eyes. There were more shifters and changelings here than magi and psychics. Lynn Frampton seemed to be the only human enrolled this semester. Had she expected more human students? But no, she’d given no sign Extrahumans made her uncomfortable. She hadn’t feared Josh the werewolf. I seemed like the only one who made her nervous instead of lonely or pissed.
“Think fast, Tremain!” A hand entered my field of vision, hovering over some of my bacon. I slapped it away without bothering to see who it belonged to first.
“No think, eat,” I grunted, doing a decent impression of my dad’s old Ultimate Shifter League persona. “Hungry bear is hungry.” I picked the strip of bacon up and made it disappear.
“Yeah, I figured. Bears don’t share.” The tall man with shoulder-length brown hair sat next to me, crossing his ankles as he stretched his legs out under the table. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back. Women all over the dining hall stared in his direction. A few men, too. My roommate had that effect on anyone who appreciated the male form.
“And dragons want to own everything.” I took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. I hadn’t realized it was possible to be this hungry. “Kind of puts us at odds, Blaine.”
“Yeah, but not really.” The dragon shifter smirked. “If we weren’t willing to be more than the sum of our instinctual parts, Providence Paranormal College would still be a tiny school for magically and psychically inclined humans. And Headmistress Thurston would have a much easier time running this place.”
“So do your part for solidarity already, man. Stop stealing my bacon.” I reached for another piece of stray bacon but realized I’d inhaled it all while Blaine talked. So, I picked up my fork and went to town on the smothered salmon. “Still can’t believe the room lottery matched me with a dragon.”
“I still can’t believe you haven’t figured out what’s going on with your sleepiness.” Blaine jerked his chin at the book pile on the table. “Looks like you’re, at least, trying to.” His gaze traveled over the books to the cereal bowl on the other side of the table. “And who likes soggy cereal?”
“I don’t.” Lynn had returned, brandishing a spoon like a sword and a tower of napkins like a shield. “There were no spoons, so I had to wait for the dishwasher. Now I need another bowl.”
“Let me get it.” Blaine stood up, his height making it seem like he looked down his nose at Lynn. He was a pain in the hindquarters, but not enough of a jerk to do that on purpose to someone he’d just met. “We shouldn’t leave Bobby alone for more than two minutes, tops. We don’t want him to fall asleep. I already read those, of course. They won’t help you much.”
“And I should believe you, why?” Lynn’s frosty tone gave me a hint about why she might be lonely. The girl used her wit and intellect to wall herself in. “Because they didn’t help you?”
“Because I’m his roommate and I watched this happen. The night the snow fell, I went straight to the library.” Blaine put a hand on one hip, cocking his head to the side. Every head at a table full of girls across the room turned his way. “If you think you can outsmart a dragon, knock yourself out.”
“I can, and I will. Outsmart you, that is.” Lynn thrummed her fingers on the table once, her nails making four sharp taps in rapid succession. After that, she made a scoffing little snort. “You don’t know what I’m packing up here.” She pointed at her right temple, then dipped her spoon into her soggy cereal and took a defiant bite. “Has to be more than a dinosaur with delusions of grandeur.”
“Guyyyyys.” The word turned into one of my biggest yawns yet. I had to ‘get it under control,’ like Professor Watkins always said. The last thing I needed was my study buddy and my roommate fighting. Unfortunately, the stupid hibernation urge had me unable to do anything but inhale food and air.
“Jeez, no wonder you can’t make any friends, Frampton. Cereal offer redacted!” Blaine turned on his heel and stalked out of the dining room. Wispy trails of white smoke flowed over each of his shoulders as he went outside.
I looked back at Lynn’s reddening face, watching her swallow the mouthful of milky mush with a grimace. What could have caused that sudden surge of competitive anger? Did she have something against dragons in general? Her scent made me think whatever it was had been bothering her for a long time. Momma always said resentment festered. But the two of them had only just met.
She had to be self-conscious about her smarts, then. Had she been put down for it back home? I opened my mouth to let her know Blaine would come around, that he just wasn’t used to being contradicted. But the angle of my head made me so sleepy. I could probably get away with resting it on the table just for a few seconds.
“No!” A rush of air blew my hair back from my face as Lynn clapped her hands in front of it.
“I’m awake, I’m awake!” Blinking, I pulled my head back, realizing I’d almost made a pillow out of the last of my food. My sigh escaped through a big smile. “Thanks, Lynn. Dinner’s my favorite meal, not my favorite hat.”
“Um, you’re welcome, I guess.” She sat down, twirling her spoon in the mushy cereal. Then she dropped it and picked up a book instead. “I’d better read this pronto.”
“No, really, I mean it. Thanks for going out of your way.” I took one of the last remaining bites of delicious fish and bacon heaven. “All Watkins wants you to do is help me with Ecology, not all this other stuff.” I vaguely waved my fork at the stack of books. “Thanks for that. Everyone else besides you and Blaine just thinks all this is funny.”
“Well, it’s not. You’re at school because you want to do something with your life.” Somehow, Lynn continued talking as her eyes followed her right index finger rapidly along each line of text. “I’ve heard of your roommate before. Dragon from Newport, grew up in a mansion. Silver spoon, admissions on a platter. But some of us had to work hard just to get here. What’s happening to you isn’t fair, and we have to fix it.”
“Wow, Lynn.” I shook my head, partly to keep awake but also because this random brainiac girl was a real fighter. “You sound tougher than my own dad.”
“Thanks.” She still didn’t glance up, but the tremor in her voice and her scent told me she took the compliment seriously. “I know who he is too, by the way. Also, what happened to him. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be stuck with soggy cereal.” I couldn’t handle responding to that kind of sympathy. No one else had said anything like that the entire semester. People avoided talking about my dad in general, even when I brought him up. He’d been a champion several times over before the accident. But I didn’t want to think about that just then. “You want some bacon? I’ll go get you a plate.”
“Wow, Bobby.” This time, she did look up, but just for a second. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m a pescetarian. Means I—”
“Just eat fish. I get it.” I stood up. “Salmon, then?”
“I’d rather have soggy cereal. It’s poached, right?” She scrunched up her nose in a peculiarly endearing way.
“Yup, poached salmon. Definitely on the mushy side.” I watched her reach out to drag the bowl closer. So, I put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her attempt to subsist on mushy cheerios. “I’ll bring you a fish and chips plate. Nothing soggy about that.”
“That’d be awesome.” She tapped her current page, and I noticed she was already halfway through the thick book. “It says here that foraging for food helps keep grizzlies awake even in wintry temperatures.”
“The more you know.” I felt a little flushed when she cracked a smile at my remark. I didn’t bother telling her that fish and chips weren’t on the men
u, or that the chef on duty owed me a favor I was more than willing to use for her. It seemed like the most natural and unremarkable thing in the world, helping Lynn Frampton. Despite what Blaine had said, she’d made at least one friend that day. Me.
Chapter Four
Lynn
The chair to my right creaked, and I wasn’t surprised. Even though I was just a regular human, I’d spent so much of my life being glared, stared, or laughed at that I knew exactly when one of those was happening. I had a pretty good idea of who was engaging in the first behavior on that list.
“Beat it, tall, drake, and brainy.”
“Wait, what’s that? I thought I heard a pot calling a kettle a nerd.” Blaine rested his elbows on the table, then sighed through the corner of his mouth to puff the hair on that side out of his face. “Look, I came over here to bury the hatchet. Bobby needs our help, and he’ll be better off if we aren’t pissing in each other’s Cheerios.”
“You’re probably right.” I stopped my finger as a phrase caught my eye. I pressed my nail into the page, my way of halting speed-reading progress. “Well, holy smokes.”
“Wait, you found something?” Blaine sounded surprised. When I glanced up, his eyes were rounded and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“It’s only a hint, but it’s got me thinking about something from one of my Shifter Anatomy assignments.”
“Wings and talons, you’re the human majoring in Alternative Therapies!” He leaned forward, trying to get a look at the page in the book I held. I rolled my eyes and turned the book his way.
“Right here, it says hibernation in grizzly shifters gets induced by drastic shifts in weather patterns from one year to the next.” I tapped the passage.
“Yeah, I read that and then looked up the local almanac data. There wasn’t snow, but the temperature isn’t much different this year than it was last year.” He shrugged. “It can’t be that.”