by Raven Steele
A bell sounded above me. Shit. I was late.
Groaning, I headed to the front office. A much younger looking secretary from the one the night before sat behind the desk. Strawberry blond hair hung just past her breasts in wavy curls, and she had a tattoo of a sun on her cheek, something I’d never seen before.
She frowned at me. “Shouldn’t you be at class?”
“I’d like to be, but I have no clue where to go. I’m new.”
Her eyes lit up with understanding of who I was, but she didn’t scowl or flinch, which was nice.
“Didn’t a girl come get you this morning? She was supposed to show you around.”
“I haven’t seen anyone.”
She mumbled a name and sighed as she circled her desk to get to me. “That girl. Sorry about that. I’ll show you around. My name’s Jessica, by the way, and we’re so glad you’ve come to Solar.”
“Are you?”
“Of course! We love new students! You supernaturals are our future.”
I forced a smile. I’d never had anyone talk about my future before as if it was a good thing. Everyone already seemed to know where my future would lead.
“Since you’ve already been to the dorms, I won’t bother showing them again. Let’s go straight to Cyrus Hall.”
“There’s another building?”
“Several, in fact.”
She navigated me through several halls I’d never remember until we reached double glass doors leading to a back patio. She must’ve seen the confusion on my face because she said, “You can always go out the front and walk around the building. It’s easier that way. Then all you have to do is follow the stone path to the different buildings.”
She slid open the door. The green lawn stretched wide over several small dips and rises. A handful of students hurried to class along a path made of beautifully colored granite rocks. Morning sunlight sparkled off its raw surface. A few other students huddled together on the grass, talking and laughing. None of them paid me any attention as we walked past. So far so good.
Jessica pointed to an ancient-looking building made of stone and large wooden beams with a front porch that wrapped around the side of it. “That’s Cyrus Hall. All the classrooms are located there. And over there,” her finger moved to our right, “is Summer Auditorium. That’s where you’ll find the gym and more classrooms, but they’re used for training and spell casting. As a senior, you’ll spend a lot of time there.”
Another bell sounded, jerking the remaining students on the lawn into action. They sprinted over to Cyrus Hall.
“Come on,” Jessica said and nodded her head forward. “Who do you have for first period?”
I glanced down at my phone at the schedule Linda had emailed me. “Science with Mr. Stenberg.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s a great class. Mr. Stenberg is the Headmaster for the boys’ dormitory. He’s been here since he graduated here almost twenty years ago.”
“He never left?”
She shrugged. “A few of us are like that. We just can’t seem to live a normal life among humans.”
“What do you prefer?”
“I like it here, but,” she scanned the landscape, “sometimes it can be suffocating and feel too … the same. Does that make sense?”
I nodded in understanding, feeling my inner flames simmer. Every school I’d ever been to, and I’d been to a lot, had felt like this after only a few short weeks. Probably because I had never been able to make friends or fully interact with humans. I felt like an ant trying to find a meaningful role in a beehive.
“I like variety,” she continued. “This will probably be my last year here.” Her blue eyes darted to me. “What about you?”
“I don’t really belong in either world. I’ll probably just be a hermit somewhere.”
She laughed. “I hope not! There is a place for you, you just have to decide where you want that to be.”
She stopped me before I could open the door to Cyrus Hall. “Don’t let the kids here give you any shit,” she paused, grinning awkwardly. “I mean crap. Some can be spoiled jerks, but there are good ones, too.”
“Don’t worry. I’m all too familiar with how to navigate the high school experience.”
Jessica flashed me a look of sympathy as she opened the door. I averted my gaze and ducked inside the building, my face flushing. I wasn’t used to people feeling sorry for me.
Thankfully, she changed the subject and talked about the history of Cyrus Hall. I only got to hear half of it before she stopped in front of a door.
“This is it.” She smiled and knocked on it. “We’ll chat more later. Good luck!”
My heart hammered within my chest, making it difficult to breathe. This wasn’t how I wanted my first day to go—me showing up late.
The door opened, and we were greeted by a man just barely taller than me and dressed in a nice suit. Soft blue eyes peeked out from beneath thick eyebrows. A splash of gray lined the edges of his hair.
“You must be our new student,” he said. He looked me over from my hair to my shoes, like he was searching for something. “I’m Mr. Stenberg. Come on in. There’s a place for you up front.”
F me. I inhaled a tight breath and walked into the room. All eyes focused on me as I sat down. Jessica waved goodbye and closed the door.
“Class,” Mr. Stenberg began, “This is Rose—” he stopped at saying my last name for which I was grateful. Give me a little more time before everyone found out who I was. “She’s new here, so I expect you to give her a warm welcome. It’s not often we get new students.”
I turned around and forced a tight smile. The students all looked the same as every other school I’d been to. Bored expressions, feigning interest. Some didn’t even look at me. I could roll with this.
Mr. Stenberg returned to his lecture on mitochondria, a lesson I’d already had at my last school. I sighed a breath of relief. Usually a teacher would ask me a bunch of personal questions to force kids to get to know me. It never worked. But this teacher was different so far, and I liked it. He was treating me like everyone else.
After fifty minutes, another bell sounded. The students around me all filed to the front door. Once again, no one paid me any attention.
I closed my tablet and followed after them, but Mr. Stenberg stopped me.
“Can I have a word with you?”
I nodded.
He eyed the door making sure we were alone before he said, “I want you to know I knew your mother very well. I cared for her deeply and was sorry for what happened to her.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. It was strange to keep hearing people talk about her like she hadn’t murdered a bunch of people. That wasn’t something I was used to among regular humans. They only knew the bad.
“If you need anything, anything at all while you’re here at Solar, you just let me know.”
“How about directions to my next class?”
He smiled. “I can do that.”
For the next few minutes, he guided me down the hall asking me basic questions like where I had been living and what extracurricular activities I’d join. With him by my side, I did get a few odd looks from other students but not the bad kind, the kind that screamed, “Stay away from her. She’s the daughter of a mad woman.”
Not only did Mr. Stenberg show me where my second period was, but he also pointed out my other classes and how to get to the lunchroom. He instantly put me at ease. I wondered if he had done the same for my mother. It sounded like they had been close.
My next two classes in history and English were also uneventful. I was beginning to think that my time here wouldn’t be so bad, but then I arrived at Magical Properties, a class I probably shouldn’t be in. I didn’t have magic. Only fire.
I crossed the threshold into the classroom that looked more like a coffee house than a place for learning. The walls had been painted a deep purple and several black drapes hung from the ceiling. There were no desks, only small circular table
s with wire chairs pushed up against them. Sunlight spilled in from several long and tall windows, catching dust motes in the air.
My new classmates were already sitting down, opening their books, and pulling out yesterday’s assignment. I was about to sit down in an open chair at the back when I caught sight of the same boy I’d seen in the theater last night. The boy with the bleached hair and electric blue eyes.
As if he’d sensed me looking at him, he turned and held my gaze. The whole room stilled, almost as if time had stopped. Even the dust motes froze in the air at the sudden swell of power. Magnetic pressure squeezed me on all sides. Pushing. Tightening. Crushing. My inner flames grew hot and raced through my veins, spreading to my flesh and even between my legs, which made me catch my breath. The heat was so intense, the hairs on my skin rose, as if trying to escape the sudden rise in temperature.
This boy was trouble, and if I wasn’t careful, he’d destroy me.
Chapter 4
“You may sit wherever you’d like,” the teacher said to me from the front.
I mumbled a thank you to the teacher, a Mrs. Adams according to the plaque on her desk. Her curly red hair fell just to the top of her green blouse tucked into a black skirt. She held a curved cane with a black orb on its top. If ever there was a witch, she most definitely was one.
I dropped into a chair at a lone table, feeling incredibly awkward as all the other tables were filled. A few students gathered around a coffee dispenser at the front of the room. I would’ve loved a cup—no, needed a cup after seeing bleach boy—but I didn’t dare stand to get any.
Sneaking a glance his direction, I breathed a sigh of relief that he had turned back around to talk to his group. Next to him sat a gorgeous girl with long, thick, blond hair, the kind people made wigs out of—it was that perfect. Her tanned complexion looked flawless. All that coupled with her pouty lips and dark green eyes and she could’ve been a super model. She glanced at me, caught me eyeing her, and shot me a nasty look. Damnit.
I quickly averted my gaze, but when I felt her look away, I returned to survey bleach boy’s group. There was one other guy sitting with them. I couldn’t really see his features from my position, but he was tall and well-built. Two more girls took the last seats at the table. Every one of them was perfect in every way. Perfect bodies, perfect hair, perfect faces. They must be the “it” group of the school. Every school had them. And by the way others in the class room were also subtly glancing at them, I was right.
Only one person broke that trend.
A girl sat in a lone chair without a table near the windows, almost as if she’d been placed there for sticking a tack on the teacher’s chair. She slouched in her seat, arms folded to her chest. She stared at the floor, lost in her thoughts. She wore black jeans and a lace tank top. With her black hair and dark lipstick, she must be the goth girl of the school. She yawned loudly and glanced at the clock above the door.
Mrs. Adams tapped her cane on the desk in front of her to quiet everyone. “Does anyone remember what we talked about yesterday?”
A hand shot into the air from a boy near the front. “Spells don’t hold any power unless we mean them.”
“Good, Levi. You’re right. That’s how it is with all of our abilities. If we don’t have a strong purpose or give them any sort of direction, then they have to flounder on their own, trying their best to make sense of our desires.”
I sat up, interested in the way she was talking about our abilities as if they were their own separate identity. I’d never heard that before.
Her gaze settled on the girl next to bleach boy. “Maisy, you have the ability to move things with your mind. What happens if you’re not focused?”
She leaned back, a lazy smile stretching the corners of her mouth. “I’m always focused and know exactly what I’m doing.”
The girl next to her burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you remember what happened just yesterday?”
“Shut up, Arrow,” Maisy snapped.
Arrow didn’t just keep talking as if Maisy hadn’t spoken. She stood tall and moved to the front of the class with the confidence of a politician running for president, but with the curvy body of fifties pin-up model. “So the other day—”
Maisy groaned and slumped into her seat.
“Maisy wanted this frozen latte from the kitchen, but the kitchen was closed. We were standing at the cantina while she goes off about needing this stupid latte.” Arrow stopped to blow a kiss at Maisy, then flipped back her wavy brown hair, smiling big. “When all of a sudden we hear this thump and a woman scream from within the kitchen.”
I looked from Maisy to Arrow. Despite being embarrassed, Maisy was grinning as if she secretly liked all this attention.
Arrow continued. “Maisy darted for the door and flung it open. Just inside was that fat old cook with iced latte all over her!” She laughed out loud.
Several others joined her.
I chuckled uncomfortably, unsure if I had a right to share this moment with them.
“Ms. Powerful over here,” Arrow hooked a thumb at Maisy, “only had to think about a latte and the damned thing obeyed her like a dog to its master!”
More laughter. Even the teacher chuckled.
“What about Debbie?” the black haired, goth beauty near the window asked.
“Who?” Arrow asked, clearly annoyed someone had interrupted the moment.
“The lunch lady you so lovingly referred to as fat and old.”
“What about her, Ireland?” The way Arrow said Ireland’s name made me think there was no love lost between those two.
A blanket of silence shrouded the room and all eyes turned towards Ireland. The name fit and explained the small four leaf clover tattooed on the top of her wrist.
“Did you help Debbie clean the mess you made?” Ireland stared pointedly at Arrow.
Arrow burst into laughter. “Are you serious?” She turned to the teacher. “Can you believe this chick? Gah! So funny.”
“Everyone just calm down,” Mrs. Adams said.
When the class grew quiet and Arrow sat down, after giving high-fives to everyone at her table of course, the teacher added, “Even though this might not have been the best story to share, it does prove my point. Maisy thought about what she wanted, pretty intently by the sound of it, but she didn’t have a clear focus. If she would’ve imagined the latte coming all the way to her and had eliminated all the obstacles around her, she would’ve gotten what she wanted.”
Mrs. Adam’s eyes scanned the room and stopped when they met mine. “You must focus where you want your power to go. It can never be random.”
I swallowed and hoped no one heard the loud sound of dread hitting my gut. I dropped my gaze to the table.
“Open your books and read chapter twenty-four. Start where it discusses using your intentions to keep magic from going awry.” Mrs. Adams glanced at the door. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with next week’s test.”
She scanned the room before she left, noting that I didn’t have a book. She glanced at Ireland. “Please share your book with our new student. Plus I think you might find you like sitting at a table.”
Ireland groaned as the teacher left the room. She picked up her book from off the floor and shuffled over to me, only to drop it hard against the top of the table, making everyone around us jump.
She smirked and sat down next to me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said back but she didn’t look at me. Only stared straight ahead, her arms folded.
I waited an uncomfortable minute before saying, “Should we read the chapter?”
She shoved the book my direction. “Help yourself.”
I tentatively opened the front cover.
“Bitches,” she spat.
I looked up. Ireland glared at Maisy and Arrow as they laughed and joked with others at their table.
“I take it you guys aren’t friends.” I kept my voice low, wanting to stay out of any drama.
“Psh, as if. They’re the Red Letters. They exist in their own perfect little world.”
“Red Letters?”
“It’s what you get when you’ve learned to master your abilities, but by the sound of Arrow’s story, Maisy sure hasn’t mastered hers.”
“Then how did she get her letters?”
“Her family name, of course. The Defeurs, the founders of this school.” She flipped her middle finger in Maisy’s direction.
I didn’t say anything. What could I say? I didn’t know these people, their history, or their culture. I’d lived in the human world all my life with normal students who only had to worry about friends, grades, and college. But this place? It took high school to the next level.
After a few minutes, Ireland finally turned away from the Red Letters. “So you’re new?”
I nodded and placed my finger at the spot I’d been reading so I didn’t lose it. It was actually pretty interesting and exciting to read about magic and how it worked inside my body. I wished my father would’ve given me books like this growing up.
“Name?” she asked.
“Rose.”
“Rose what?”
“Rose Blythe.” I tossed out the fake last name as easily as if she was asking me what I’d eaten for breakfast. I’d done this before.
“What power are you rocking?”
At this, I paused. Not many had the ability to use fire. It was considered one of the darker arts of magic. “I’m still trying to figure it out. What’s yours?”
She lifted a single shoulder. “Nothing special. I’m fast and strong. Stronger than any asshole guy at this school.”
“That sounds pretty special to me. I’d love to be strong.”
“You’re here, which means you are.”
“Can you shut up over there?” a voice said from across the room.
We both looked over. Maisy was turned around in her chair, glaring at us.