Hawthorn Academy: Year Three Read online

Page 8


  "To help your blood pressure," he explained.

  "You didn't forget to hydrate and collapse again, Aliyah?" Hal asked once Ian had gone.

  "No." I turned my head away. "How are you?"

  "It's infusion time again." He chuckled. "Dad insists, although I still have mostly good days."

  "Is that why Faith's not here?"

  "She wanted to help Kitty unpack."

  "Cool."

  "How'd it go with Logan?"

  "Um."

  "That bad, huh? Sorry."

  "No. It started awkward but ended up good."

  "So you're together?" Hal grinned.

  "I didn't go there." I stared down at my hands. "I don't want to end up in a situation. With everyone assuming. Again."

  "Logan's not Alex. But you're the only one who can figure out what you feel."

  "How did you do it?"

  He took his time answering. I looked back at him. Hal's skin was bright instead of ashy, and the area under his eyes wasn't puffy like it had been last year. Something about his cheeks, how they'd lost their roundness, bothered me. He might not feel stretched too thin, but Harold Hawkins looked that way to me.

  "I read Faith's essay. Like I read everyone's our first year. It told me about her circumstances. The second I laid eyes on her, I knew she was constantly angry, in pain. But underneath it was this strength. I thought, we need her on our side." The corners of his mouth tilted up. "You saw it too."

  "Yeah." I nodded. "I knew as soon as school started that Faith needed some real friends. I tried so hard, but nothing worked until you talked to her. What happened?"

  "It was that day in the cafeteria before you tangled with Charity. She ran off."

  "You went after her."

  "Right. Because it was my duty. We talked. And changed each other’s lives."

  "I mean, I saw some of that. But when did you know? Like, what was going through your head at that exact moment?"

  "I held out my hand. She took it, and honest-to-God magic happened. When she let go, it was still there." He sighed and beamed.

  "That's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard, Hal." I shook my head.

  "But?"

  "There's not really a but here. I wish something like that could happen to me."

  "Nobody ever does it the same way."

  "For Bubbe, it was like you." I sighed. "Her brother introduced them and instant magic. Figurative on his part. He was mundane."

  "Oh." He reached across the space between the two beds and patted my hand. His arms were long enough to do that now. "Your story doesn't have to match your family's. Mine doesn't."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Grandpa and Grandma had an arranged marriage. Dad chased my mother for months. She was totally afraid of commitment. Faith and I are totally in love since that first day."

  "I'm having a hard time figuring out what anything means. Romantically, anyway."

  "Well, we have a counselor now. Maybe talk to her?"

  "Good point." I nodded. "Any other ideas, though? I mean, in case that doesn't work out."

  "Grace."

  "Oh."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I'm not sure we share a, um, perspective."

  "Ask her about Azrael sometime."

  "I think she'll talk about, uh, sexytimes if I do that. Like Cadence does."

  "Hmm." Hal lifted his arm to scratch his head, but the tube connected to it hindered his movement. "What about Izzy?"

  "Only for a reading."

  He nodded. "Logan himself? I mean, he's one of your best friends. And it's efficient."

  "I don't know. He's in a state because his mother's a trustee."

  "That entire thing is an accident waiting to happen if you ask me."

  "Their wing's off-limits. And our dorms are to them."

  "I'm not sure that'll make a difference."

  "You think they'll barge in?"

  "No. Only that there's ample opportunity for them to interfere with us despite that." He sighed. "Grandpa's rules are hard, but they're limited until someone blatantly violates them."

  "That doesn't bode well."

  "I'll do my best to head off that kind of crap."

  "Are you sure that's safe?" I blinked. "I only mean that you're mostly okay until you conjure. I still want you to survive and have a gaggle of kids someday."

  "Conjuring space and moving through it is totally different from keeping tabs on where certain people are. I only have to worry about the three trustees we know are bad actors. No need to track Masters, Gauthier, Thurston, or Dunstable. They mean us no harm."

  "Thurston? Like the headmistress at Providence Paranormal?"

  "Yeah. He's her dad. The worst he'll do is encourage us to apply there."

  "So you're planning to keep tabs on the other three?"

  "When class isn't in session. They have to submit forms to Grandpa before auditing classes."

  "You still have access to the records with him here?"

  "Yes. He's a stickler for the way things have always been. Nepotism is one of those. I'm going to use it to our advantage."

  "I'm glad you're on our side, Hal."

  "Ditto."

  A chime sounded from the wall. Ian and the nurse entered the room, took Hal's vitals, and unhooked him from the tube in the wall. I knew it led into the Under and was a way to funnel raw magic into his system. The medical professionals thought he still needed that, despite his positive attitude.

  Hal's not out of the woods, not by a long shot. Be careful.

  I nodded but refused to give that idea any more room in my headspace that day. We still had a mixer to attend before we could rest, after all.

  For the first time in three years, I got to try the punch. As I sipped from my cup, tasting coconut, cherry, and something like citrus, Alex tiptoed over. He pulled a metal flask from his blazer.

  "Um, no." I wagged my finger at him.

  "You're not in the shitty parents club, Morgenstern. Don't judge." He sneered at someone behind me. "Goes double for you, Spanos."

  "Let her get a refill then," Dorian said behind me.

  "Fine."

  I ladled enough punch to refill my cup. Then he upended the flask over the bowl. Grace sidled up, stirred, and poured for herself.

  "What is this for, exactly?"

  "Spiking punch." Alex smirked. "And spiting trustees."

  "Cool." Grace raised her glass.

  "What about the younger students?" I elbowed her.

  "The first-years aren't sticking around after their introductions. Most of us are legal in our own countries. Anyway, loose lips sink ships." Grace glanced toward where Mrs. Pierce sat with Mr. Fairbanks. "I want theirs to go down like the Titanic."

  "Sentiments." Alex dipped a fresh cup in, not bothering with the ladle. "Exactly."

  "I can't believe the two of you agree."

  "Get used to it." Grace sighed. "The dogs of war can't be picky. Besides, Dorian trusts him. At least this far."

  "War?"

  "You expect peace after last year?" Grace gestured vaguely behind us. "With the enemy on campus like this?"

  "No way," Dorian agreed.

  "I'd kind of hoped we could have a normal year, yeah." I sighed.

  "You can try. I mean, we all could." Dorian shook his head. "But we'd get swallowed up."

  I opened my mouth, about to say something, anything, to try and prove them wrong. But the magipsychic screen lit up and the presentation introducing the new students started.

  I sipped my punch, standing in the shadows to one side as I watched faculty and other adults come and get their drinks. Alex was right, the three untrustworthy trustees all had multiple servings of spiked punch. They didn't notice, either. I watched Nurse Smith and Coach Pickman spill their drinks into a potted plant near the door.

  Professor DeBeer sipped, blinked, then chugged hers. She had five more, too. I wasn't entirely sure what kind of effect that might have on a stressed-out professor who'd see
n her colleague dead on the floor less than six months earlier. Tears stung my eyes as I considered it.

  Minutes later, she paced from the room, eyes on her feet and hand on one wall, treading unsteadily. Professor Hawkins followed her after glancing over his shoulder long enough to catch me looking.

  "Hey, Aliyah. There's someone I want you to meet. My mom."

  I turned to find Dylan standing beside a woman who looked a lot like him. Her skin was the same deep beige and her curls twisted in the same ringlets although she hadn't dyed them blue.

  "Um, hello." I held out my hand. "I'm Aliyah Morgenstern."

  "Dylan's told me so much about you. And your brother, Noah." She clasped my hand. "I wish I could have seen the two of you play Bishop's Row last year."

  "Oh." I blinked. "You're a fan?"

  "I played first defense for seven entire years between prep and uni." She grinned. "From what Dylan tells me, you have enough talent to go pro."

  "That's what I'd say about him." I glanced aside. "I'm decent, but he's the real star."

  "Don't sell yourself short," Dylan advised. "Or I'll tell Bubbe."

  "Back at you." I smirked. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Khan."

  "That's Ms. now. Likewise. I'll see you and the rest of your classmates around this year. I'm excited to work with the third-year students. I bet you all have excellent college prospects."

  "I guess."

  "Aliyah's totally a shoo-in for PPC." Dylan grinned.

  "There's a college and career event at the Hawthorne Hotel this weekend for seniors from all the area schools," she said. "They'll have a table."

  "I'll mark my calendar." I nodded.

  "Oh, Mom, there's Logan!" Dylan pointed. "Sorry, Aliyah, but I've got to introduce them."

  I nodded and looked away, letting them monopolize my best friend's attention. It made my escape that much easier. As I ascended the moving stairway alone, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  You can't run from Logan forever. Or Bubbe. Or that test coming in October. Or college applications.

  "One day at a time for now, imaginary friend."

  The voice protested as I made my preparations for bed. Despite the fact that I hadn't fully unpacked, I went to sleep. All night, I dreamed of tests. Thankfully, the type taken at desks and lab benches and not in isolation behind magical glass.

  Chapter Seven

  The classroom was the same one we'd sat in with Professor Luciano for almost two years. Part of the difference came from the drawings on the magipsychic screen, done in a different hand and style. Mostly, it was the desk placement.

  Instead of rows, Professor Hawkins had our seats arranged in a circle. Dorian sat on my right and Faith on my left, closest to the professor. Hal sat between Logan and Dylan directly across from us. The fact that Faith was basically up front surprised me. Until I realized she was making more of an effort at academics this year than the last two combined.

  Normally, Logan was first to raise his hand. This year, Faith preempted him nearly every time. Dorian gave her the side-eye more than a few times. Dylan raised his eyebrow almost every five minutes.

  Professor Hawkins took it all in stride. Despite the fact that he'd had us at our normal dynamic at the end of spring last semester, he went with the flow. I couldn't imagine that was good for Logan, whose academic primacy had become something of a routine. When we broke for Creatives, he told me otherwise.

  "It's kind of a relief." Logan sketched out a horizon on the canvas with a length of charcoal from his art set. "Faith wrote to me all summer and told me about her plans. She wants to do well enough for a scholarship."

  "Aren't you worried?"

  "About what?" He reached for a thicker piece of charcoal.

  "No longer being valedictorian?"

  "I already have a full ride at PPC if I keep it above 3.5 this year." He grinned at my chin. "That’s the rest of the news that came with my Hawthorn scholarship. College is the most important thing about grades for me."

  "Good point." I smiled back. "Guess I'd better get to work."

  "Why?"

  "Well, because I always wanted to be—"

  "You need to work on something, Miss Morgenstern."

  "Yes sir, Professor Hawkins." I nodded. "See you later, Logan."

  I wandered around unable to settle on a creative project. Clay was okay but nothing exciting. Woodworking reminded me too much of last year. Grace was teaching Hailey how to sew knits.

  "Want to make scented candles?" Kitty gestured at a shelf full of wax and essential oils.

  "Hmm. Yeah. That sounds good."

  We worked with wax for the rest of the time. Then my class headed off to gym while DeBeer's went to the library. Kitty and I said goodbye. Once inside the gym, I headed directly toward the locker room. Coach Pickman blasted her whistle at me.

  "Morgenstern! Front and center!"

  "What's up, Coach?"

  "You're captain this year for the school's Bishop's Row team."

  "What? We haven't had—"

  "Tryouts, I know. Those are next Tuesday. You and Khan are on the team already. He's still reverse point."

  "Shouldn't he be captain, then?"

  "He said if you weren't in charge, he wasn't playing. So, we made a deal."

  "Oh. Well, what do I have to do?"

  "You'll be at tryouts, with veto power. And running conjuring drills, strategies, and focus exercises every time we practice."

  "Is it really that big a deal though? Compared to last year, I mean."

  "We're trying to work out a way to play the other schools. Off-campus this time. Colleges are interested."

  "Like, with scouts?" I blinked.

  "Yeah." She nodded. "Providence Paranormal's starting a national college Bishop's Row team next year. You'd better apply there."

  "Wow." I grinned, despite my fear they'd never accept me. "Thanks, Coach."

  "Don't thank me yet." She nodded. "Captain's harder than it looks. Keep the off-campus plans secret for the time being. Half the trustees don't like the idea. Now get changed, Morgenstern."

  I did, quickly. We ran laps, put on our equipment, and did drills. Hal even participated after showing the coach a note from the nurse. Was he thinking of trying out for the team? Was this what Coach meant about it being hard to captain a team?

  You'll find out.

  After our drills, Logan spoke with the coach. Right before dismissing us to change and shower, she blew the whistle and waved us toward the bleachers.

  "Bishop's Row tryouts are next week on Tuesday afternoon. We'll have cheer squad again this year, too. Those tryouts are the same day."

  "Why so early?" Faith blinked.

  "Because extra practice makes extra perfect."

  "Okay." She nodded.

  On the way to Lab, Faith stopped me in the hall.

  "Should I bother trying out?"

  "That depends." I chewed my bottom lip, trying not to blurt the news to her.

  "On?"

  "How serious you are about all the academic work."

  "It's that obvious?"

  "Logan filled me in. What's the deal?"

  "I'm applying for Alternative Therapies at PPC."

  Of course, she wants to be a doctor. Good on her.

  "Yeah." I nodded. "I can see you doing that."

  "You're not going to advise against it?"

  "No way. Go for it."

  "Thanks, Aliyah."

  We headed into the lab, where I waved her toward a momentarily confused Logan. They sat together at the bench in front while I partnered with Dorian.

  "Team Miscreant?" His grin was too shallow.

  "Nah." I gestured at Ember, swooping lazily toward the perch Julia already sat on. "I don't aim to misbehave this year. Let's be Team Airborne."

  "Okay." He nodded. "I don't want trouble, either."

  This year, there wasn't anything so simple as a lab safety tour. Instead, we got right to our first experiment, one where we had to slow the growth proce
ss of a fungus from the Under.

  "Usually, I'm the first to say I love a fun guy." Dorian raised an eyebrow, conjuring ice at the bottom of the flask containing the gray mushroom. "But this is ridiculous."

  "Ha." I held a hand over the container, thinking of the mid-morning sun in autumn. I didn't want to sauté our specimen, merely inhibit its growth. Overall, we were doing pretty well. Hal and Dylan had chosen a similar tactic, but they had trouble heating their air.

  "Wait a minute." Hal glanced at me, then narrowed his eyes.

  My inside voice giggled as if someone had goosed it. I blinked and almost dropped my beaker.

  Tickles!

  I laughed.

  "Aliyah?" Dylan stared at the space between my conjuring hand and the top of the beaker. "What just happened?"

  "My bad." Hal shrugged. "Just used my space to borrow us a little sunshine."

  "Never mind." Dylan shook his head.

  I thought that was the end of it, but after Lab, I tried heading to the infirmary to see if any first-years had Familiar Bonding. I wanted to keep track of them in case they needed help. Before I turned the corner toward the ramp down, someone tapped my shoulder. I turned to find Dylan.

  "Hey."

  "What's up with you?" He scratched his head.

  "Huh?" I played dumb. Because I was pretty sure whatever he'd noticed had something to do with the inside voice.

  Not him. You're supposed to tell Logan first.

  "It just happened again." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm taking you to see my mom."

  "Wait, no." I shook my head. "I'm okay."

  "Then why is there," he waved a hand at the top of my head. "All this?"

  "I don't know what you mean."

  Overhead, Gale warbled out a melody. Ember responded by peeping and launching off my shoulder to follow him.

  "Is it that?" He jerked a thumb at the dragonets. "Ember going broody and taking Gale with her?"

  "I don't know." I shrugged. "Maybe you can explain exactly what it is that's worrying you?"

  "Um." This time he blinked. "No. Actually, I can't."

  "How about we talk after you figure that out?"

  "Okay, I guess." He nodded.

  "Let me know when."