3. Getting My Shoes Wet

Getting My Shoes Wet

T he final class of the day drags on, as usual, but when it's finally over, I bolt out the door and head across the campus, eager to get back to my dorm. Only one problem: the sky has opened up, and the rain is coming down in sheets. I skid to a stop under one of the stone archways, safe from the downpour, and lean against the pillar, watching as the rain splashes over the cobblestone paths.

Across the lawn, a couple of naiads are frolicking like they're having the time of their lives—of course, they are. Rain is practically their version of a spa day. Meanwhile, here I am, stuck waiting for the downpour to let up so I can dash back without ruining my already fragile mood. Or, you know, my shoes.

As I shift my weight, I feel a presence beside me. Great. I glance sideways and see none other than Sebastian—Kyla's annoyingly perfect half-vampire boyfriend. He's leaning casually against the pillar like he owns the place, his dark hair already damp from the rain and a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

I sigh dramatically. "Oh look, the weather reminds me so much of you, Sebastian. Shitty."

He raises an eyebrow and looks out at the rain. "The forecast did say things were gonna get wet. I'm sure that'll be a first for you."

I snort, not missing a beat. "Oh yes, several inches of rain, I heard. Can you imagine that? More than one inch?"

His smirk deepens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You know, I think I'm having trouble. Maybe if you moved a little bit that way—into oncoming traffic—I think everyone would have the peace and quiet necessary to envision such a thing."

I can't help but grin. "I would, but then who would be around to put your girlfriend Kyla in her place? She's got enough ego for both of you."

Sebastian chuckles softly, his voice a low rumble that annoyingly sends a shiver down my spine. "Touché."

Without warning, he gives me a playful shove out into the rain. The cold water drenches me immediately, and I spin around, glaring at him as the rain runs down my face.

"Oh shit," he says, looking mock-surprised. "You didn't melt. I guess The Wizard of Oz lied to me."

I wipe water from my eyes and stomp back under the shelter, fuming. "Very original, Seb. Maybe next time you can come up with a joke that isn't older than you are."

He laughs, and damn it, there's something about the way his whole face lights up when he does. The sound of it, deep and rough, is the kind of laugh that hits you in the gut—annoying and… well, distracting . My brain, which usually functions at a normal pace, suddenly stalls for a second. Despite the fact that I'm dripping wet and just got shoved into the rain by a guy I can't stand, I can't help but notice how infuriatingly attractive he looks when he's not playing the perfect half-vampire boyfriend.

I hate myself for that thought. And Kyla. I definitely hate Kyla.

Sebastian notices me staring and raises an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What? Speechless, Zaria? That's new."

I snap out of it and roll my eyes. "Hardly. Just contemplating whether it's worth hexing you now or waiting until you're more off guard."

"Hex away." He smirks again, stepping closer, like he's daring me. His shirt is soaked, clinging to him in a way that's… distracting. "You might even make me melt this time."

I glare at him, refusing to let him see how his presence is making my pulse race. Before I can come up with a snappy retort, I hear Kyla's voice calling out in the distance. "Sebastian! Seb, where are you?"

He rolls his eyes, the amusement draining from his face. It's subtle, but I don't miss the flicker of annoyance in his expression. "Great. Just what I needed."

I chuckle softly, crossing my arms. "Trouble in paradise?"

He glances at me, and for a moment, his usual cocky demeanor falters. "You could say that."

Before I can ask anything more, he turns and steps out into the rain, walking away without a second glance. His figure quickly disappears into the downpour, leaving me standing there, drenched and more than a little confused.

I watch him go, a small grin tugging at my lips. "Well, well, well," I mutter to myself. "Looks like Mr. Perfect isn't so perfect after all."

With a final glance at the rain, I take a deep breath and head back toward my dorm. I'm already drenched—might as well keep going.

The evening is already shaping up to be just as gloomy as my microwaved dinner—a lump of something pretending to be lasagna that I managed to choke down, only to feel immediate regret afterward. I toss the plastic tray into the trash and grab my umbrella before heading out into the damp night air. The rain hasn't let up, but this time I'm prepared. No more spontaneous soakings for me.

As I make my way across campus, the darkness is broken only by the faint glow of lampposts lining the paths. The sound of raindrops tapping against my umbrella provides a sort of rhythmic backdrop, one that's oddly soothing in contrast to the chaos of the day. The campus is quieter now, with only a few students hurrying from building to building, most of them seeking shelter from the relentless rain.

I spot Sam ahead, walking with her hood up and a bag slung over her shoulder. She's making her way toward the library, too, just as we planned. I quicken my pace to catch up, and as I come up beside her, she turns, offering a small smile.

"Hey, Z," she says, pulling down her hood. "I didn't think you'd actually come out in this weather."

I tap my umbrella lightly on her shoulder. "Not taking any chances after earlier. I'm done playing ‘let's get drenched for fun.'"

Sam laughs, but it's a little muted, like she's tired—or maybe just weighed down by something. We both head inside the library, shaking off the rain as the warmth of the building envelops us. The library is mostly deserted at this hour, save for a few students tucked away at various tables, their heads bent over textbooks and laptops. The soft hum of quiet conversation and the occasional rustle of pages fill the air.

The library itself is a massive, multi-level space with tall, arched windows that look out over the campus, though tonight all we see is rain streaking down the glass. Shelves upon shelves of books stretch out in every direction, housing everything from spell tomes and enchanted grimoires to historical texts on ancient magical wars. At the far end, a glowing sign marks the entrance to the restricted section, a place we've definitely snuck into a time or two.

We find an empty table in the corner, away from the few students scattered around the library. There's a girl with silver hair hunched over a thick spellbook, a pair of fae studying levitation charms by one of the windows, and a couple of vampires chatting in hushed tones near the magical history section. Late-night studying attracts all types, apparently.

Sam pulls her grimoire out of her bag and places it on the table with a sigh. "I feel like I've barely made any progress," she admits, flipping through the mostly empty pages. "I should've started way earlier. Derek's been... distracting."

I raise an eyebrow, sitting across from her. "Distracting, huh? I'm sure that's not the only reason."

Sam looks guilty, like she's about to confess to something. "Okay, maybe not the only reason. I guess I just didn't realize how much time had slipped by."

I nod, understanding. "Look, it's fine. We'll fix it. You've got the basics down, right? I mean, you've been doing this stuff for years."

She shrugs. "Yeah, but I don't know. I feel kind of... clueless. Like I'm way behind everyone else."

I frown, leaning forward. "You're not clueless, Sam. You just need to fill in the gaps. Tell you what—remember those spells and potions we designed together a few years back? You can write those down. They're yours too."

Her eyes light up, and she perks up slightly. "You mean the ones we used to sneak into Cauldron Concoctions class?"

I grin. "Exactly. You can use them, but we'll make them even better. Enhance them, you know? We were practically kids when we came up with half that stuff. Now we can make them proper."

She looks relieved, flipping to a fresh page in her grimoire. "Z, I don't know what I'd do without you."

I give her a soft smile. "Probably still be doodling in the margins."

We both laugh, but there's something comforting in the easy way we fall into working together. I start rattling off ideas, old spells we created during late-night sleepovers and secretive study sessions. There's the No-Slip Hex we used to avoid tripping down the stairs, the Perfect Timing Charm that let us leave for class exactly one minute before it started and never be late, and of course, the infamous Invisibility Glamour that only worked half the time—but when it did, it was a lifesaver.

As I talk, Sam scribbles furiously, taking down everything I say and adding her own little embellishments where she can. The more we work, the more I realize I'm the one coming up with almost all of the ideas. I pause, feeling a little guilty.

"Hey, uh... am I taking over too much?" I ask, looking up at her. "I don't want to feel like I'm doing the whole thing for you."

Sam shakes her head immediately, her expression soft and grateful. "Z, don't worry about it. Honestly, I've been feeling kind of lost with this whole thing. You're helping more than you know. I appreciate it."

I nod, feeling a bit better but still aware of how much I've taken the lead. It's not that Sam doesn't know her stuff—she's just... distracted. And I can't help but wonder if Derek has something to do with that.

We continue working late into the night, filling page after page of Sam's grimoire with improved spells, detailed instructions, and tiny drawings to make it all look more impressive. Every now and then, I glance around the library. The silver-haired girl is still in the same spot, her nose buried in a book, and the fae by the window are now asleep, their wings twitching as they dream. The vampires have left, their table now empty.

The rain outside hasn't stopped, but here, surrounded by the smell of old books and the quiet murmurs of students, everything feels... peaceful. Almost like the world outside doesn't matter for the time being.

Sam stretches, looking at her nearly-filled grimoire. "I can't believe we did all this tonight."

I smile, leaning back in my chair. "Told you we'd get it done."

She grins at me, tired but happy. "You're a lifesaver, Z."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, waving her off. "Just don't let Derek take all the credit when you hand it in."

She laughs, and for a moment, everything feels like it used to—before Derek, before Kyla, before the stress of finishing grimoires and dealing with rival witches. Just two best friends, doing what we do best.

But as I pack up my things and we head out of the library, I can't shake the feeling that something's shifting. Maybe in our friendship, maybe in Sam's relationship with Derek, maybe even in myself. Whatever it is, it's coming.

And I'm not sure I'm ready for it.