Hawthorn Academy- Year Two Page 6

  "Like sandpaper." Logan's yawn went on longer than the words that came before it. "Sorry."

  "I better take him in. He's still got to talk to Bubbe."

  We said goodbye, then walked up the driveway where I rang the bell at the veterinary office. I rarely did that, but it was after hours, and I wanted to let my grandma know someone was here besides family. She answered the door faster than I thought she would.

  "Bissel, why did you ring the bell?" Bubbe glanced past me at Logan. "Oh. Hello, Logan. Let me help you with your things."

  She didn't ask why he was here but had known he'd show up to accept an offer given nearly a year earlier. I wasn't surprised. My family's kind of big on helping.

  I followed them in through the waiting room behind the counter and then past the door to the back. Doris padded behind Logan, keeping close to his heels. Across from the kitchen, Bubbe stopped. She opened a door, one I'd never seen her use in my presence.

  "Isn't that the controlled substances closet?" I blinked.

  "In a manner of speaking." Bubbe gave us a half-grin. "It's controlled, and there are substances inside, but it's not for medication. Have a look."

  We peered through the doorway. The room shouldn't have fit in the hallway between the two examination rooms on either side, but it was bigger on the inside, like Hawthorn Academy's campus. Even so, it was a relatively small space.

  "It's a bedroom?" I gave Bubbe a sidelong glance. "But why?"

  "Bissel, you knew our house was built at the same time as your school. They're connected in many ways."

  "Whatever the reason, I'm glad." Logan seemed to deflate, as though he were far more exhausted than he'd let on earlier.

  "You can stay here for as long as you need."

  "Thanks. Not too long, though. School will start soon." Logan shuffled through the open door, dragging the one suitcase Bubbe left him with behind him, then he set it aside. "I'll see about staying on campus for school breaks."

  Bubbe cleared her throat. "It costs extra, and in the past, students in your situation have run into resistance on that front."

  "I understand." Logan turned, glancing back at us. I passed him the duffel bag, and he took it but shook his head. "For now, I just need to rest."

  "Of course." Bubbe nodded as she passed him another bag. "The kitchen's across the hall. If you’re hungry or thirsty in the night, help yourself to snacks. Use the paper plates and the utensils with them; that way everything's kosher. The bathroom is next door to the kitchen."

  "You’re a lifesaver." Logan took the luggage I’d carried, heaping it in a pile near the door on his side.

  "I'll wake you for breakfast tomorrow morning, okay?"

  "Meow." Doris head-butted my shin, then walked past Logan into the room.

  "If it's okay with Doris, it's okay with me. See you tomorrow, Aliyah. And thanks again, Dr. Morgenstern."

  He closed the door, leaving us in the hall. I glanced at my grandmother, wondering what she'd meant by students in the past in Logan's situation. Mom had stayed here over a summer while at Hawthorn, but I assumed she'd been the only one. I opened my mouth to ask for more details, but Bubbe shook her head.

  "Yeah, I know. It's late, and he needs rest. I just want to help."

  "That breakfast invitation was a good start. It's waffle day, right?"

  "Right." I turned toward the back stairs that led up to our apartment on the second and third floors of the building. "Thanks, Bubbe. I love you."

  "I love you too."

  I headed up the stairs, remembering how last year when my solar magic started coming in, I'd despaired at the top of them. This time around, my concern was for someone else. It was a different sort of burden, so I expected it to feel lighter, but it didn’t.

  Logan Pierce was in serious trouble. Nobody could have guessed how much, either.

  Chapter Seven

  "Waffles!" I hollered down the stairs because Ember kept tugging on my shirt, trying to keep me from leaving the kitchen. I wanted to fetch Logan, but she had berries on the brain. "Waffles up here! Get them while they last!"

  "Fat chance." Noah slapped his hand over his mouth because he said them to me instead of at me.

  My brother held grudges like superglue. I turned, trying to counter his pessimism about the availability of delicious waffle-y goodness, but discovered the truth. The waffle batter was almost all gone.

  "No way! Waffles!" Logan nearly knocked me over, dashing through the door. He was a picky eater, but I knew from Sunday breakfasts on campus that this was one of his favorite foods.

  I let Ember continue pulling me away from the door for safety’s sake. Good thing, too. Doris was hard on Logan's heels and would have tripped me in an unfortunate direction if I hadn't moved in time.

  I lived in an almost literal zoo, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.

  Logan dashed around the counter, skidding to a stop in front of the waffle iron and the bowl beside it. He opened it and ladled batter onto the iron. He closed it, flipping after it buzzed, then got his waffle out just as it turned golden brown.

  "I think I can get another half out of this." He held up the bowl, tilting it to scrape the bottom with the ladle. Sure enough, Logan was right.

  It was only then that I noticed Noah snickering, and not in a kind way, either.

  "What's so funny?" I turned, putting my hands on my hips and glaring like a basilisk.

  Noah gazed straight past me, of course, still ignoring me. His attention was focused on Logan Pierce.

  "It's just," Noah put his hand over his mouth, lifting his pinky, face turning red, "your shirt."

  "Oh, no." Logan hung his head, staring down at the picture and caption emblazoned on his t-shirt.

  I blinked, shaking my head so hard anybody watching might have thought I had water in my ear. But I didn't. I was just that surprised.

  "Gray Fullbuster is my husbando?" Noah raised his eyebrow. "Not the attire I expected from you."

  "It's Elanor's." Logan shook his head again. "Sort of. It was her gag gift last Christmas. I didn't realize it was with my pajamas. She must've snuck it in there before…I mean, I don't know."

  "Oh, my God." Noah whipped out his phone. "This is too funny. We've got to take a selfie and send it right now. She'll laugh her ass off."

  "You'll do no such thing, Noah." Mom stood in her office doorway, arms crossed over her chest. "Ease off, and no contacting Elanor beyond social media likes until I say so. Especially not about her brother."

  "Okay?" Noah blinked.

  Mom didn't usually forbid him from anything. Most of the time, I was the one she got strict with. That rarity gave her words more impact, so he listened and put the phone back in his pocket.

  "Thanks, Mrs. Morgenstern." Logan set the ladle and bowl back on the counter. "I'm trying to keep my head down."

  "It'd be best for you to stay away from campus too, then." Mom crossed her arms over her chest. "At least for the time being. Stick to this building and the backyard. I know that sounds boring but better safe than sorry. And keep our guest’s presence a secret. Am I clear here, Noah? Aliyah?"

  "Yeah, Mom." I nodded.

  "Crystal." Noah sighed. "He's 007 or whatever until you say so."

  That's when I noticed Logan had trembled so much he’d dripped the last few drops of batter on the floor, and the half-section inside the iron had gone uncooked. I couldn't get on Noah’s case since he'd done nothing wrong, but I needed an outlet for all the tension, so I went to work tidying up.

  After snagging a paper towel, I closed the waffle iron before wiping the floor so Logan wouldn't slip. The iron buzzed, and I flipped it for him. I retrieved the bowl and ladle, bringing them to the sink. Finally, I tossed the dirty paper towel into the trash under the counter.

  "No need to bang around, Aliyah, geez." Noah rolled his eyes.

  "So, now you're talking to me? Because you don't like how I cleaned the kitchen?" I rinsed my hands briskly. "After ribbing my friend over a t-shi
rt."

  My face heated, the anger I'd tried to channel rising again. So did my hands in the water running over them. I checked the faucet. Cold. That meant my temper was about to cause a magical outburst. Not a good look.

  "Settle down, Aliyah." Logan got his half-waffle out of the iron, placing it on the plate with the other one. "I'm okay. Got my big boy pants on."

  "Okay. As long as you're all right." I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then one more for good measure.

  "I'm fracking sorry, okay?" Noah turned his back and sauntered toward the living room with his half-eaten plate of berry- and syrup-drizzled waffles.

  "Peep." Ember landed on my shoulder, nuzzling my face. That meant she smeared it with strawberries, of course. She'd been sneaking them again.

  "I look like I've been snogging a vampire now, don't I?" I sighed.

  "You're not wrong." Logan grabbed the fork and knife from the cup next to the stack of plates on the counter. "Hey, where's the syrup?"

  "Hold on, I'll get it." I reached into the cabinet to grab the bottle. Once I held it out to Logan, I realized my mistake.

  "I don't think so." He shook his head at the bottle of ketchup.

  We had a laugh at that, thank goodness. The tension had to break somehow. I wondered about his issues with his parents and the reason he’d left, but there was only one way to find out why.

  "So, tell me about that shirt. It looks like anime. What's it from?" I pulled a chair out at the table in the dining room, nodding at it.

  "It's from an anime called Fairy Tail. We binged it together at the beginning of the summer." Logan took the seat I offered, setting his plate down.

  "Sounds cool. Who's the character?" I sat beside him, spooning strawberries on my waffles.

  "So, this guy." Logan gestured at the shirt with his fork, "Gray Fullbuster, does ice magic. And this girl with water magic gets a totally insane crush on him. Because I'm a water magus and Elanor ships just about everything in the universe—" He took a huge bite of waffle.

  "I get it." I grinned. "Her OTP for you is with a fictional ice magus."

  "Right." He nodded, pushing pieces of waffle through the syrup on his plate. "Because she's Elanor." He shrugged.

  "Which means?" I raised my eyebrow.

  "She relates everything to herself, and she’s queer." Logan stared at his food. “So naturally, all her shipping is gay.”

  "Makes sense."

  We enjoyed our waffles, talking about silly things Doris and Ember had done over the summer. Some were little habits they’d formed or tricks they’d learned. Since Doris was a mercat, some of those were the opposite of what most people would expect from a feline.

  "She stopped sleeping in the kitchen sink after that."

  "I didn't even know you could put garbage disposals on timers." I giggled. "But I'm seventeen, and this isn't a smart home. What do I know?"

  "Yeah, I guess." Logan shrugged, changing the subject. "I avoid the kitchen too most of the time. We've got a conservatory, like an indoor greenhouse. I used to take care of all the plants in there until Hawthorn. I missed my philodendron all last year if you can believe it."

  "Totally." I nodded. "I bet they'd let you have a plant on campus. The lights are solar, so it would do okay in there, right?"

  "I should've thought of that." He dragged his fork through dregs of syrup on his plate. "But I'm not sure how I would've brought Benny on the plane, anyway."

  He named his plant Benny? How adorable.

  Of course, the Evil Inside Voice would pick one of Logan’s glum moments to insult something endearing. I finished the last of my strawberries, trying to think of some safe topic to break the silence. Logan managed on his own.

  "I wonder how Zeke handles being on campus if all the lights are solar? He's a vampire, but he lives there. How do you think that works?"

  "I'm not sure how vampires work physiologically, but I do know a thing or two about solar magic." I held my hand out, palm up. "I'm going to conjure some solar energy right now. Check it out. Once I get it going, hold your hand over it and tell me how it feels."

  I focused, calling the magic I'd tried banning myself from the year before. Bubbe had practiced with me three days a week all summer, and it showed. My hand filled with light as I kept a picture in my head, an idea of how that type of sunlight felt.

  "It's soft somehow." Logan grinned. "Like an easy afternoon stroll."

  "Right." I gave him a smile with my nod. "Because I'm calling it while relaxed. And it's solar energy, not real sunlight. Bubbe explained it as something we conjure from feelings of what sunlight means to us."

  "So, vampires who were solar magi could conjure their magic still?"

  "Possibly? For the older ones, it’s probably not easy to think kindly of the sun."

  "Would they get burned?" Logan studied the side of his index finger and the small scar from the fire in our first lab last year.

  "I don't know. Bubbe says vampiric magi get hungry after conjuring. But anyway, that's why vampires can go to the Seelie side of the Under. There's solar energy there, but it's the Sidhe Queen's magic, not the sun. Does that make any sense?"

  "Sort of." Logan leaned back in his chair. "I have a million more questions about it, though."

  "Better ask at the library once school starts. I just told you everything I know."

  "That's fair." He nodded.

  "I was wondering something too." I watched him spoon strawberries on his plate, then mix them with the syrup.

  "Hmm?" Logan glanced up. The expression he wore reminded me of how he’d looked in Creatives, thinking of something to draw.

  "When do you think you’ll talk to your family?" The misty quality on his face evaporated like lifting fog.

  "Never." He stared back at his plate. "My parents said I’m not one of them anymore, so I guess we can't talk. I'm out. If it wasn't for Bubbe and the nice lady at the airport who changed my ticket, I'd be on the streets in Vegas alone." He dropped his fork against the edge of the ceramic, all interest in the fruit gone. "Why did you ask that?"

  "Because things come up." I closed my eyes, imagining my mother down in Providence, testifying against her own brother. "Does it have to be your whole family? What about Elanor?"

  "That's up to her, but I'm not holding my breath." Logan's deep sigh reinforced his declaration. "She'll probably just cut me off. They do an awful lot for her."

  "So, you don't think this can be fixed?"

  "I've tried all my life to fix it." Logan stared into my eyes. Usually, he was thoughtful and caring, a quietly sensitive soul, but this time, his gaze was pure adamantine. "They have to take the first step, and even then." His jaw tightened. "Even if they come with an apology, I still might say no."

  "Why?" I blinked, unable to imagine not forgiving anyone in my family. But no two families were the same, a lesson I'd seen demonstrated outside the classrooms over and over at Hawthorn Academy.

  "Because I have to pick something, Aliyah. Choose a way to handle this." Logan's eyes clouded like a storm rolling over the bay. "I’m never what they want, and every time I get close, they change the rules on me."

  "I don't understand?" I reached across the table, taking Logan's hand. "But I want to."

  "It's always been that way." He shook off my grip. "Being a Pierce is conditional, like living in a maze of 'if-onlies.' If only you were a triple-threat like Elanor. If only you were a showman like your father. If only you were like the telekinetic kid in that other family's act."

  "That stuff doesn't matter, Logan." I turned my hand over, placing it flat on the table. "Not to your friends. We think you're awesome. And grades don't lie. You're top of the class."

  "My parents didn't get the memo." He snorted. "My heart can't take any more. They either love me or they don't. Nobody turns out the way their parents expect. Going to school with all of you last year taught me that much."

  "You're right." I nodded. "Just don't be surprised if you have to face them again. The
re's a reason ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is an old adage. And some people’s ideas about fondness aren’t all sunshine and roses."

  "You sound like somebody's grandma."

  "Thanks." I reached out again, offering my hand instead this time. Logan eyed it for a moment, then took it. "Even though I talk like an old babushka, I'm your friend. And I'm not going anywhere, no matter how many plants you've got in your dorm room, husbando shirts you wear, or mercats you adopt off the streets."

  Logan didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Neither of us did. That's the way friendship is. And for about a week, things went smoothly for him.

  Chapter Eight

  Six days after he arrived, Mom invited us into her office to read a message for Logan.

  "It seems your transfer student arrives today." Mom lifted the privacy screen on her monitor so Logan could see it. "Headmaster Hawkins has requested your presence on campus to help him with housing orientation."

  "Housing orientation?” I asked, "Is the new guy a fire magus or something? Why would anyone need orientation to inhabit a dorm room?"

  "I don't know." Logan bent to peer at the screen. "I guess I'll find out. Or rather, we will." He grinned, then pointed at the message.

  "Oh!" I blinked. "Headmaster Hawkins let you have a plus one?"

  "Looks like it," he said. "So you get to visit campus before the school year starts after all."

  "Peep!" Ember leaped off my shoulder, soaring through the air. I felt her excitement since magi with a familiar bond often shared emotions with our critters.

  "They're letting me move in, so I'll tell Bubbe I don't need the room anymore." Logan straightened. "I'll go pack my stuff."

  Mom tilted her head, gazing at him. "Remember, you can stay here on breaks or weekends if you need to get off-campus."

  "Okay." He nodded and his eyes brightened, expression dreamy.

  I knew him well enough to guess he didn't think he'd need it. For better or worse, optimism remained part of Logan's mental landscape, despite the crap his parents had heaped on him all summer.

  "There's more information here for you, Logan. From the headmaster." Mom turned toward the printer, pulling the freshly ejected sheet from its tray. "Let's have a look."