by Sarina Dorie
Fortunately she wasn’t a senior, thus she wasn’t in the show.
Jeb gave a speech that was boring after seeing the splendor of student magic, and Puck passed out awards to students for their achievements in athletics, high test scores, and magical feats, and recognized students who earned apprenticeships or already had landed jobs they would soon be starting. I was amazed to hear there was such a thing as a Witchkin Air Navy, a Healer’s Guild, and a Magical Protection Agency.
I leaned closer to Josie. “What is going to happen to the students who graduate but don’t find some kind of employment or internship?”
Josie nodded to a tall lanky girl with shoulders slumped. “Did you have Greta? Nice girl, and great at horticulture, but she never mastered wards or defensive magic. She told me she’s going to get her powers drained so she can go back to living a normal life with her parents in the Morty Realm. It’s safest that way so she doesn’t accidentally use her magic and draw the attention of Fae. Jeb will be taking a group of them aside tomorrow to discuss options.”
“And her affinity won’t come back?”
Josie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why would they come back?” Her eyes crinkled up in concern. “Oh, honey? Did someone tell you that your powers would return?”
I pressed my lips into a line. Whether this was one more unusual trait of my affinity, or just something that wasn’t common knowledge, now wasn’t the time to discuss it with Josie.
Out of a student body of four hundred, the graduating class only contained sixty students. That meant we either had an abysmal dropout rate or a third of the seniors were going to be held back. I didn’t know who all of those students would be.
Jeb hadn’t read Hailey’s name. I was relieved. As much of a pain in the butt as she could be, and as frustrating as it would be for teachers to have to work with her again, it meant she would have another year to prepare herself.
Jeb took the podium again. “Now we come to the part I reckon students and teachers have been waitin’ for. . . .”
I expected he would say graduation and give them their diplomas, but instead he said, “Staff achievement awards.” Students cheered. I was surprised how excited they were. Teachers clustered in groups along the wall, whispering to each other as excitedly as the students.
“Sometimes funny, sometimes sweet, these are awards students give to their favorite staff members. Mrs. Keahi . . . you got the results of the votes for me?”
The secretary exited from her seat in the front row and handed him a set of envelopes.
Vega stood near Thatch closer to the front of the room. Her Cheshire Cat smile made me wonder if she had threatened students into voting for her.
Jeb held up the first envelope. “First we got Most Nurturin’ Mentor of the Year Award. I wager I don’t even need to read the results of this one. It’s always the same.” He tore the envelope open, smiling as he looked at Grandmother Bluehorse. Her beatific smile remained in place. Students turned around in their seats to look at her.
Jeb squinted at the card. A hush fell over the crowd. This reminded me of the Academy Awards.
Thatch’s eyes met mine across the room. I quickly looked away. I didn’t want to be caught staring at him. He’d probably take it as an invitation that I wanted to have a conversation with him.
Even so, my gaze was drawn back to him. He still watched me. His lips turned up into a smile—not his usual malicious smirk—but a genuine smile. He actually looked like he was excited. Did he think he had won the award?
Vega cackled quietly from the front of the room. She looked more wicked than usual. Had she cheated? I wouldn’t put it past her to threaten the students if they didn’t vote for her.
Vega’s laughter faltered when Jeb announced, “Grandmother Bluehorse. Yeehaw! That’s right, partner!”
Grandmother Bluehorse was a favorite with the kids. She was kind and nurturing. It made sense she would have that positive influence on the students. She’d been around for a long time. I clapped and smiled.
Reluctantly students clapped. Some turned around in their seats and murmured.
Josie crossed her arms next to me. “I cannot believe him.”
“What?” I asked.
“I helped leadership tally the votes.” She shook her head. “That is not who the kids voted for.”
I opened my mouth to ask who should have gotten the award, but Jeb went on.
He held up the next envelope. “Staff Member Most Likely to Be Distracted By a Shiny Object.” Students laughed. He opened the envelope. “Me? I had reckoned it would be Satyr Sam.”
I remembered our groundskeeper, Sam, didn’t like being called “Satyr Sam.”
Jeb’s response made the crowd laugh even more.
“Next award: The Teacher Students Are Most Likely to Run Away From if They Encounter Him or Her on a Dark Street. From what I understand, Mr. Thatch and Miss Bloodmire have been in competition for this award for the last ten years.”
Students and parents found this hilarious.
“I had Mr. Thatch when I went to Womby’s,” one father told a son in the crowd, making no attempt to speak quietly. “He was quite formidable. He’s hasn’t changed.”
“No, Miss Bloodmire is waaaaay worse,” a student laughed.
Mr. Thatch won this award. He inclined his head with a tight smile of acknowledgment. Perhaps it hadn’t been the award he’d been hoping for. He also won the Most Detentions Given Award.
“Let’s see who won the Teacher Who Made the Greatest Impact Award.” Jeb tore into the envelope.
Heads turned to look at me. Students waved to me excitedly. Josie elbowed me, grinning. “You deserve it. After all you’ve done for those kids.”
I leaned closer to her. “Are you serious?”
Had they voted for me? Warmth spread throughout my chest. The idea that they’d noticed was flattering. I knew I wasn’t a perfect teacher, but I’d learned a lot in my first two years. Art wasn’t considered the most important subject at most schools, particularly this one. Painting and drawing didn’t save people from being abducted.
But I had connected with my students. I’d listened to them when they told me their problems, and I tried to help them. After school I tutored students to help their grades in other classes. Some of them must have appreciated that.
Jeb’s smile wavered as he pulled the card out of the envelope. His eyes narrowed and rested on me like I’d seriously pissed him off.
The false gusto in his voice didn’t mask the coldness that lay beneath. “Jasper Jang.”
“What?” Vega asked loudly. She marched closer to Thatch, and the two of them conspired in whispers.
Disappointment tugged at me. For a moment, I thought it had been me.
The drama teacher jumped to his feet and bowed with the energy of a thespian. “Thank you! Thank you! I knew you loved me!”
“Oh, come on!” Pro Ro muttered from his post along the wall.
I wasn’t sure if he was disgusted with Jasper or Jeb.
Josie removed her lacy purple witch hat and waved it at Thatch.
“What is happening?” I asked, but I was fairly certain I already knew. Jeb wasn’t reading the names on the cards. Could it really be the students felt like I had made an impact on their lives?
She caught Thatch’s eye. He shook his head, his expression baffled.
I tugged on her sleeve.
Josie shook her head. “I checked the votes. Jeb is not reading who students voted for. Two of those should have been you.”
Students clapped with tepid enthusiasm. Several looked around at their teachers, confused. Maddy, sitting halfway toward the stage, stood and waved at me and mouthed something, but I couldn’t make out what she said. Hailey pulled her down into her seat.
“I never realized our principal was such a bag of dicks,” Josie whispered.
“We’ve still got ourselves one last award for who the staff picked for Teacher of
the Year Award.” His face flushed red as he pulled the card out and silently scanned it. He cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Coach Kutchi.”
Fewer students clapped than before. They kept looking around. Students stared over their shoulders at me and whispered. I had a feeling Jeb had changed that one too.
A student in the middle of those seated stood up and turned to look at me. He formed a heart shape with his hands. It was Trevor. He looked directly at me. I smiled. Someone told him to sit down.
When I was in high school, I had never cared about student elections, voting for prom king or queen, or popularity contests. I did care if the principal of my school who had decided he wanted to get rid of me hated me so much that he wouldn’t give me an award out of spite.
Not that I knew for certain that was the principal’s motivation, but that was what it looked like.
Jeb grinned like nothing was amiss. “Without further hubbub, I’ll give you our valedictorian.”
Vega crossed her arms, looking more vexed than ever.
A blonde student stepped away from her peers at the front of the room and climbed the steps to the dais. She was dressed like the other seniors in black capes and witch hats, so I didn’t immediately recognize her. I had fewer seniors than freshmen and sophomores. My class was considered filler, as Jeb had pointed out.
An amplification spell must have been used, because the young woman’s soft voice projected over the great hall with the volume of a Morty sound system.
“Hi, I’m Darla Winters, your senior class’s valedictorian.”
I knew Darla! She had tutored me and helped freshmen with Latin. She was a sweet girl and a Celestor. She had also been magically coerced and abused by Julian Thistledown with his green-man magic, and the entire event had been covered up by Jeb so we wouldn’t lose the enrollment of parents paying for their children. I waited to see what she said.
“It’s been a crazy four years—five years for a few second-year seniors.”
That got a few chuckles.
“The last two years were especially eventful. Two teachers died, the dean burst out of the dungeon and destroyed part of the school—which took weeks to fully repair, the Raven Court abducted students in Lachlan Falls, and staff members disappeared. Earlier this year a Fae king tried to claim students as a tithe, another dean broke his back, steampunk pirates crashed into the art tower, a golem attacked students, and probably a few other things happened that I’m forgetting. Oh, yeah. I remember. We had prom.”
That gained some giggles.
In the middle of this speech, Imani ran up to the stage, waving a paper in her hand. Dread filled me at the sight of her attracting attention to herself. That was the last thing she needed to do. Thatch intercepted her on the way to the stage, pointing to the seat she had vacated. She handed him a paper. He scanned the contents and walked up to the dais. Silently he placed the paper on the podium before Darla as she continued her speech.
She didn’t act as though she noticed. I wondered what the paper said.
Darla smiled out at the crowd, looking calm and collected. “In a few years, we will probably forget about warm-ups in Mr. Pinky’s class or why we got that detention in Miss Bloodmire’s class, but hopefully the important lessons staff members taught us will stick. We’ll remember how much they cared and tried to impact us so that we would survive in the real world.
“Someday when I need a cure for hellhound venom, I’m going to be thankful Grandmother Bluehorse was so adamant I learn my herbs. If I get into a fight with a fire fury, I’m going to appreciate how Mrs. Frost taught me to fight fire with fire—and water magic. And as much as all of us have complained over the years about Mr. Thatch’s academic recovery detentions, I’m grateful he insisted I use that time to finish my homework and get caught up on missing assignments in his class.”
A few students groaned. Not everyone appreciated his detentions.
Darla’s eyes drifted down to the podium. She cleared her throat. “I think a few of us have learned some difficult lessons these last couple years.” Her smile vanished as she gazed out into the crowd. “About Fae. About survival. Not everything is always as it seems.
“We had quite a few incidents, as I alluded to earlier, and in each of those circumstances, our staff worked behind the scenes to make this school a better place. There is one teacher in particular who stands out as someone who has saved the day on more than one occasion. She’s been there to encourage us and nurture us. She has been a shoulder to cry on when we needed it and someone who listens to us students.” Darla smiled, tears filling her eyes as she gazed at me from across the room. “She has tirelessly advocated for us and helped us with what we needed, whether it was studying or reminding us to use ‘words, not violence.’”
My throat tightened. She had cried on my shoulder and confided in me after Julian had used her.
Jeb marched up onto the dais. “Yep, Grandmother Bluehorse,” Jeb said loudly.
Vega spoke quietly, but her deep voice carried. “If he doesn’t shut up, I’m going to hex his mouth closed.”
Jeb waved his hands at Darla as though he wanted her to move away from the podium. “We’re out of time for speeches. We need to move on to handin’ out diplomas.”
“I’m almost done,” she said.
Jeb hip checked her away from the podium. “No, we’re done. It’s time to announce graduates.”
Darla held on to the wooden stand. “On behalf of the student body, we have one more award we would like to announce.”
Jeb pushed his way in front of the podium. He probably weighed twice as much as the teenage girl. Her witch hat fell onto the floor as she fought to stay in place.
Students and parents alike chattered in dismay. Jeb waved his staff at Darla. A haze of milky light swirled around her, and she walked off stage.
“Mrs. Keahi, might I get that list of graduating students from you?” Jeb barked, sounding flustered. “This is the moment you have all been waiting for. . . .”
“Who stayed up all night searching for lost answer keys when the principal thought they were stolen?” a student yelled out in the audience.
From where I stood, I couldn’t tell who had said it, but I knew the answer. That had been me. A few replies came, shouted over each other so that it was hardly comprehensible that they spoke my name.
Imani stood and yelled, “Who found the answer keys?”
“Miss Lawrence!” students shouted.
Ben O’Sullivan jumped onto a chair. “Who used the magical Heimlich maneuver on me when I was choking?”
“Mrs. Lawrence!” more students shouted.
Apparently, some of them had forgotten that I was unmarried.
“Who saved us from the steamship pirates?”
“Miss Lawrence!”
Technically that had been Jeb and Elric, but I had evacuated the students from the room prior to their arrival.
Jeb raised his voice. “The next student who speaks out of turn is going to get a detention . . . with Mr. Thatch.”
Thatch crossed his arms and shook his head. Was he refusing the principal?
“Who saved us from becoming tithes from that Fae king?”
“Who listened when no one else would?” Darla shouted.
“Who stayed with me to keep me safe from the Crab King and wouldn’t let me join the sirens to kill people?” Maddy asked, her silky voice ringing over the crowd.
Hailey shook her fist into the air with gusto. “Who tutored me and fed me cookies on Christmas and gave me a broom even though I glued her to the ceiling on the first day?”
A few people chuckled at that.
Students kept shouting and cheering my name. I clasped my hands to my heart, awed by their loyalty. I’d had no idea how much they had appreciated me. Tears of joy filled my eyes.
Students continued to sing my praises.
“Who sold her soul to the Fae in exchange for magic to heal us?” a student a
sked.
Even Trevor got into it. “Who lets me eat her art supplies when I’m hungry?”
Students and parents laughed. I did not let him do that. I tried not to anyway.
“Who do we want back next year? Who can’t we survive without? Who will we fight for because she loves us?” Darla shouted.
“Miss Lawrence!” They chanted.
Jeb’s face turned crimson. He stalked off the stage and left through one of the doors to the side. It appeared he’d been upstaged. I couldn’t imagine he would forgive me for making myself an invaluable member of the staff.
Darla walked over to me. She removed the witch hat from her head and placed it on mine. It was the happiest day of my life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
To Be Or Not To Be One with Magic
I had never been called into the principal’s office while I’d been a student. I had been called into Jeb’s office more than I ever had been called into Mr. Dowdy’s office while attending high school in the Morty Realm.
Saturday night as the other teachers were celebrating with an end-of-the-year staff party, I sat across from Jeb, fearing he was going to revoke the ‘privilege’ of allowing me to clean up the school and pack up my classroom the next day.
His face was flushed, his expression livid.
“All righty, Miss Lawrence, I reckon you made your point. Parents and teachers are houndin’ me to keep you on. I’ll let you stay this summer and next year on one condition.”
I swallowed, fearing what it was. I prayed Thatch hadn’t gotten to Jeb and convinced him to make me give up Elric.
“You got a choice. Do you want to be a teacher here and learn magic? Or do you want to date that pretty-boy prince?”
The question didn’t surprise me. Even so, making the choice was as painful as pulling teeth.
“Why can’t I have both?”
“That’s my condition. Do you want to stay on or not?”
This wasn’t just about me. I needed to stay the summer for Imani’s and Maddy’s sakes.
“I want to stay. I want to teach here and learn magic,” I said quickly. “But I don’t see why I can’t at least keep dating Elric this summer while students won’t be present.”