Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

I don’t see Zane for the rest of the day. We don’t have classes together and he doesn’t appear at my locker. It’s a letdown but the worldly part of me that can see danger when it pertains to Aimee should’ve known it was way too good to be true. Boys like Zane don’t look at girls like me—history has proven it true.

As disappointed as I am, it was nice to feel special for a day. Fortunately, I didn’t have time to get used to it, so I can go back to being myself with minimal issue. Except maybe wondering what the hell happened; what I did to ruin it.

Zane had come to me. Waited outside my class, walked me to another. Found me and asked me for coffee. Maybe I hesitated too long. Certainly long enough for the dean to show up and take Zane away.

I sigh. It doesn’t matter now. No way is he going to ask me again. Why would he? Instead of lingering, I hitch my backpack onto my shoulder and head toward the front door to wait for Aimee.

As I walk down the hallway, it’s oddly quiet. There aren’t any other people right now. Granted, some classes haven’t ended so there are still rooms with students inside, but it’s the end of the day, so they should be ending soon.

In any case, it’s odd for this place to be so quiet. This is the time of day when everyone is anxious to get home. There’s talking and laughing, commiserating about the day. But right now, it’s so quiet in the hallway I can hear the teachers from inside the classrooms.

I quicken my pace because the hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention, like they know something I don’t.

As I pass Professor Beckett’s classroom, a bulb above me blows and sparks rain down around me.

I give a yelp that’s part scream, part squeal, and a quick jump-step. “What the fuck?”

I look around and find the janitor, who seems to have materialized from the nothingness of the hallway. “No worries, Miss Baum. Just a light bulb.”

I don’t remember having a conversation with this guy in all the years I’ve been here until today, so I haven’t the vaguest idea how he knows my name, but this is the second time today that he’s used it. I don’t ask how he knows me because he gives me the creeps and I just want to get away.

“Right.” I hurry toward the door. The guy seems friendly enough, looks like every average guy I’ve ever seen. There’s nothing about how he looks that should give me the creeps. It’s the way he keeps showing up. And that he knows my name.

The silence and emptiness are unnerving. When I step outside, the sun hits my face and I wish the day hadn’t been shot by my ridiculous expectations to somehow climb the social ladder, that Zane was more than being nice—hell maybe he lost a bet and that’s why he walked me to class.

The fronts of the four buildings take up almost two city blocks and are located across the street from the parking lot. I try not to look for Zane’s Jeep, but he always parks in front, and it’s hard to miss the bright blue paint job and the oversized off-road tires. No one else drives one like it here.

His crowd—Aurora Deville, Finnick Strain, Circe Dupree, Dylan Tempest, Isador Murick, and Piper Steros—are all standing around a coffee cart that always sits near the statue of Marlena Steros and is manned by a guy named Noah.

Marlena Steros was the first witch to ever graduate from the Institute when it was only one building and a single teacher who taught all the subjects and aspects of magic to the students.

This space on the lawn at almost the center between the buildings is a hangout between classes and after school. Not for me, but sometimes Aimee is out here with her friends when I come out at the end of the day.

I try not to look at Zane’s crowd because I have some pride, but I can’t help it. And there he is. Zane is standing between Piper and Dylan. He takes a sip of his coffee and like he knows I’m watching him, looks up. But he smiles and waves me over.

Again, I look behind me because I won’t survive walking over if he means to wave to someone else. But there’s no one behind me and I smile. He means me. I smile to myself and begin the walk across the lawn.

Before I make it halfway, he jogs over to me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” And now my stomach tumbles again. I don’t know if it’s the smile or the man responsible for the effect, but it happens just the same. “Can you hang out for a while? I can buy you that coffee now.”

Oh. So there won’t be a date. I cover my disappointment with a smile. “Sure. ”

“That way we don’t have to waste a good first date at the coffee shop.” The grin widens, and it’s powerful, makes mine genuine.

Of course, mine is genuine. He’s mentioned a real date and what’s not to like about that? Stopping the grin would be a whole hell of a lot more than I could manage. “Okay.”

He takes my backpack off my arm and slings it onto his then guides me toward the vendor with a light hand at the small of my back. The heat against my skin is intoxicating and I want to lean into him, want to explore the fantasy that’s in my head right now, but I don’t have that kind of confidence. Instead, I’m rigid. Awkward.

“Caramel latte, right?” Without waiting for me to answer he tells the coffee cart guy. Then he turns and I turn with him. His friends are silent, looking at us. “Everybody, this is RJ Baum. RJ, these are my friends.”

He takes a few seconds to introduce them one by one as if we haven’t all been in school together for the last five years. I wave like I’m some kind of adolescent dork who hasn’t yet learned to use her words. I hate myself for it. This isn’t me. I’m brazen. I say what I think and do what I want. I don’t know this version of me.

“Did you hear about Rowen?” Piper presses her shoulder against the tree beside me and leans her head in to ask me like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be talking to me. But she’s never been so inclined before, and I weigh whether or not I want to bring that up. I don’t. Not now anyway.

Instead, I nod. “Yeah. A detective came to one of my classes today.” I pause and tell the story, along with all the things the detective said, and add, “It was a witch who went to school here.”

Apparently, that isn’t all that interesting since there are a lot of witches in the area that went to school here, and they all start talking about what they know over top of one another so it’s hard to focus on any one of them.

Circe, who is talking to Dylan, turns to join the conversation Piper and I are having. “I heard she got a red warning.” She means Rowen.

At the Institute when we act outside our agreements and the Institute discovers, we’re given warning. I personally have never had one, although I’ve done my share of acting outside our agreements. But certainly not outside enough for a red warning. I’m more of a blue warning kind of girl. Red is the most severe we can get.

I don’t even know anyone who’s gotten a red warning, so I don’t know how to respond. It’s better to sit back and listen to them discuss.

Piper nods at Circe. “I saw the warning. It was for attempting to summon.” Piper lowers her voice as if simply saying the kind of offense makes her equally guilty.

Summon , in our world, only has one connotation, and it isn’t a good one. It references demons or the dead which means that Rowen was into something dark. Dangerous. A red-warning offense.

“I heard she was trying a reactivation spell in one of the transport rooms and her power was already waning.” Special rooms inside the Institute have walls infused by magic. Only fifth-year students are allowed to use the rooms. “And that’s when she got the red warning.”

Dylan looks at us and shakes his head. “She just lost her little brother.”

Oh shit. Well, if ever there was a time to try a reactivation spell, that’s it. I don’t care how much of my power it took to cast a reactivation spell. I would die without Aimee, I would break every rule in the book, throw every spell I could to bring her back. I would never judge Rowen for what she was trying to do, so I sip my coffee—the one Zane handed me—as they talk.

“Do they know if she’s going to be okay?” The story the cops are giving us might not be the entire story. I’m curious.

“If she’s been drained by a syphoner, the only way she gets her power back is if the syphoner is killed.” Zane’s voice is soft, as if he’s trying to break the news gently. But there’s no gentle way to say this kind of thing. Not to a bunch of vulnerable witches. “If she expended the magic on her own to summon outside the safety of the Institute, her magic’s gone.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter, but the change in his voice means something. It might mean he’s closer to Rowen than I thought.

Before I can ask him how well he knows her, Aimee walks up, wide-eyed but smiling. Usually, there isn’t anyone around me when she comes to find me, but she knows all of these people. They’re her crowd, her friends.

She cocks an eyebrow. “Making friends, I see.”

“You know me. I’m a joiner.” Nothing could be further from the truth. The last thing I joined voluntarily was Girl Scouts in second grade.

She laughs. “We should probably get home, RJ.”

I give a slight head shake, still smiling at her so if anyone happens to look over, they won’t know we’re arguing. “I’m not ready yet.”

“Mom—”

I don’t want to have this conversation right now. It’s humiliating to be as old as I am and have my mommy grounding me. No one has ever paid attention to me at this school. And now that they are, I don’t want to go back to being anonymous and invisible. Turns out, I like being seen .

No one needs to think of me as a baby whose Mom sends me to my room and grounds me. Especially people who have just now noticed that I’m alive.

I don’t want to risk it evaporating by leaving. Anonymous had served me well up until now, but I am ready to step out of my shell.

“Mom will be fine, Aims.” My tone is smooth. Practiced, even. I’ve used it on her so many times in the past, I would think she would have developed an immunity, but it still works. And as far as I’m concerned, this conversation is over. I’m an adult. Capable of deciding for myself.

Zane glances at me and smiles. “We’re going to go to the beach. Do you guys want to go?”

I look at Aimee. She shakes her head at the same time I nod. But I throw in a pleading smile then mouth the word, “please.”

She shakes her head again, and it pisses me off. I shouldn’t have to beg her. I always go with her when she wants me to go. “I’ll just go alone.”

She sighs, and I know I’ve won, but I don’t dare gloat at her because I want her to go along. I want her with me. She’s my best friend, and I always want her with me.

When she gives a small nod, I clap my hands together before I turn to Zane. “We would love to.”

He grins. “You can ride with me and Dylan.”

I can hear my mother’s voice in my head. She’s been telling me since I was a kid not to accept rides from people I hardly know, and we might not all be best friends, but I know these people.

And she’s not here.