How to Make Friends and Not Incinerate People

by Devin Harnois

  “So what should I practice next?” Aiden asked.

  “I’ll have you try waking up a tree.”

  They were getting into more spectacular kinds of spells, but training with Phoebe was still very different from the flashiness of training with Dylan. “Can we try some transformation spells? Or glamours? I’ve been working on those.”

  “Oh? I didn’t think you were in glamour class yet.”

  “I’m not. Dylan is helping me with that.”

  She gave him a curious look, but thankfully didn’t start the argument again. “Okay. Let’s start with something basic.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Dylan came around the corner and spotted the wolf pack huddled together against the wall. They were all facing inward, postures full of aggression. He could practically smell it. They looked like they were surrounding something. Or someone.

  “Hey,” Dylan said as he marched up to them.

  They turned, eyes bright yellow. The glares turned wary when they saw who it was. “Stay out of this,” Conner growled.

  A shift, someone moving, and Dylan caught a glimpse of Hanna leaning against the wall, terrified.

  “I told you to leave her alone.” The anger was there, waiting. This was a great excuse. He smelled his own magic—warm rocks and burning wood. The other kids in the hall hurried to get somewhere else.

  The werewolves twitched, like they were ready to run.

  “Stay here,” Conner snapped. “Our pack is strong. Together, we’re stronger than him.” He sounded like he believed it. He even looked like he believed it.

  “Want to test that idea?” Please do.

  “Sure. Besides, you can’t use your magic. You might burn Hanna. She’s your little whore, right? You wouldn’t want to hurt her.” Conner showed his teeth, a gloating smile and a challenge all in one.

  “You’re right that I can’t use fire.” An image of the hall burning, the whole school burning. A twinge of desire. “But who said that’s all I’ve got?”

  “Conner’s right,” the stocky, older boy who seemed to be Conner’s beta said. “He can’t take on all of us.”

  The hope, the desire was almost painful. I’m seriously fucked up, Dylan thought as the pack moved to surround him. Hanna stayed against the wall, watching with wide eyes. “Get out of here,” he told her.

  She took one step and Conner yelled, “Stay where you are!”

  She whimpered, shoulders hunching as she dropped her gaze to the floor. Submissive for sure. Pathetic.

  The werewolf pack moved closer. Dylan waited with sweet, sweet anticipation. If he went for Conner first and took him out, it might make the others run. Dylan found another target, the youngest one in the pack.

  The boy yelped and tried to run, but Dylan caught him, one hand twisting in his shirt as the other came up for a hard punch to the jaw. One of the other kids grabbed Dylan and pulled. He let the youngest one go and spun, elbowing his attacker in the ribs.

  Another werewolf came at him, and another. He kicked and punched. Every blow he landed was a little piece of satisfaction. They hit him a few times, but he hardly felt it. They rushed him in twos and threes, trying to grab his arms, hold him still. Dylan was too strong, too fast.

  Conner swung at him. Dylan caught his fist and kicked, hitting Conner in the gut and sending him sprawling. The rest of the pack lunged all at once and Dylan used a force spell, sending out a wave of magic that knocked them all back. Two fell, the others stumbled.

  Conner got to his feet, holding his stomach and glaring murder at him.

  “Break it up!”

  “Hey!”

  Two adults arrived. One of them grabbed Conner and the other stood between him and Dylan. “That’s enough.”

  Dylan recognized him as one of the math teachers, a powerful sorcerer.

  No it’s not. It’s never enough.

  “All of you to the principal’s office. Now,” the teacher said.

  Just for a second, Dylan wondered if he could take the sorcerer on. Then he took a deep breath and tried to stuff the remaining anger back down. As they all walked to the principal’s office with the two teachers watching them, Dylan noticed Hanna was with them.

  “You should’ve left when I told you to.”

  She glanced at him but didn’t say anything.

  The rest of the pack gave Dylan angry looks. Some of them had bruises and cuts on their faces and one was cradling his arm. He’d knocked them around a little, but he hadn’t broken them. This wasn’t over.

  * * *

  “We’ve let all the missed classes, the showing up late to class, the detentions…,” Dad said.

  “All the Ds and Fs and the reports of your poor attitude. We’ve let all that slide, given you space. But this is different. Fighting in school?” Mom said. “We talked about this, Dylan.”

  “You know how powerful you are,” Dad said. “You could seriously hurt someone, or kill someone.”

  Dylan sat on the couch. He had an urge to cover his ears. “I know.” He’d wanted to. Any excuse would do. “They were going to hurt Aiden’s friend.”

  “Then you go tell a teacher,” Dad said. “You don’t take matters into your own hands.”

  “I couldn’t just walk away. I was so pissed. It was hard enough not to burn them alive.” He pictured it, could almost smell their flesh burning.

  Mom sat next to him. “I don’t know why you’re so angry all the time—”

  “I don’t know why you’re not.” He jumped up from the couch. “You’re a rape baby. How are you not angry about that? You were born because something awful happened.”

  Her eyes pinched a little at the edges. “I was angry about that for a long time. But I’ve had a long, long time to cope with how my life came to be.” The hint of pain shifted into sympathy. “You’ve been different since I told you. I should have known it was that.”

  It was that and a lot of other things, but yes, that was the worst of it. The thought made his stomach feel like it was tied in knots. Dylan looked down at his hands. “I want to hate what I am because of where it came from. But I can’t. I love my magic.”

  “Beautiful things can come from terrible situations. Your magic came from something dark, but you can do wonderful things with it.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t want to do wonderful things with it. He wanted to burn cities, burn down the world.

  “And don’t forget that you came out of love,” Dad said. “We wanted you because we wanted to share our love with a child. We wanted to be a family.”

  “We’re upset you got in a fight, but we still love you. We’ll always love you,” Mom said.

  They were at it again with the sappy talk. What would they say if they knew about the jar you have upstairs and what you’re planning?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Aiden stepped inside the house to find Mr. Johnson at the dining room table again.

  “Hello, Aiden. Good to see you.”

  “Hello, Mr. Johnson.” He smiled politely and took off his backpack and coat, then slipped off his wet boots and left them by the door. Why was the warden here? Was this about the fight Dylan had gotten in? Was it because he knew it was really all Aiden’s fault?

  “Come have a seat. I wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing.”

  Aiden sat on the opposite side of the table, doing his best not to look nervous. “Any particular reason you’re here?” Crap, was that too obvious?

  “No, I just wanted to see if you’re making progress, if it’s getting any easier for you. And if you’re having any difficulties, I want to see if I can do anything to help you.” Mr. Johnson folded his hands on the table.

  “How was your day?” Mom asked.

  “Good.” Except for worrying about Dylan. Hanna had told him about the fight and that Dylan had been sent home for the rest of the day.

  “How are things coming in Major Magical Control?” Mr. Johnson asked.

  “Pretty good
. I had another match against Dylan last week.”

  “Really?” Mr. Johnson leaned back in his chair.

  His parents looked at Mr. Johnson.

  “What does that mean?” Dad asked.

  Aiden swallowed. He had avoided explaining things to his parents because he didn’t want them to worry. He’d told them about using targets but hadn’t talked about the matches. He shouldn’t have said anything. “Um, they’re one-on-one mock fights between people. Using magic.” He held up his hands when he saw they were about to freak out. “Nobody gets hurt. It’s just practice. Like fencing or martial arts.”

  “And you had a practice fight against Dylan?” Mom asked.

  Aiden nodded. “We’ve had a few now. He was… he goes slow, and he’s way easier on me than he is with anyone else. I get a little better each time.” Just surviving the match without completely freaking out was a win in his book.

  “I’ll take that as evidence you’ve made quite a lot of progress since my last visit,” Mr. Johnson said. “The next time I’m in town, I’ll have to watch a match between you and Dylan.”

  Hopefully by then Aiden would be past cowering and ducking fireballs. “Um, okay.”

  His parents exchanged a look. “Could we see one of these matches?” Mom asked.

  “I’m… not sure if that’s allowed?” Aiden looked at Mr. Johnson.

  “There’s a showcase in the spring. It’s a bit of a combination of a talent show and a… a martial-arts exhibition, as Aiden brought up,” Mr. Johnson said. “Families are encouraged to attend. It’s a chance for the students to show what they’ve learned over the past year.”

  Oh God. His parents watching him would be like Freak Show on Parade.

  “That would be great,” Dad said. “We’d love to see Aiden using his magic. He hardly talks about his magic or what he’s learning in class.”

  Yeah, because it was bad enough that he’d ruined their lives by making them move here. He didn’t want them to see how different he was. What a freak he was. How very much not human he was. Aiden had started to get a little more comfortable with his magic, but he still couldn’t really grasp the idea that he wasn’t human. He was surrounded by monsters at school, but many of them were magic users who were still human, or creatures that were part human, like werewolves and even Dylan. Aiden wasn’t human and he never had been.

  The person he had the most in common with was the creepy dark fae who called himself Uncle. That was the only full-blooded fae he’d ever met. His stomach twisted at the thought.

  “I’ll be sure to make it back to town for the showcase as well,” Mr. Johnson said. He turned to Aiden’s parents. “Although I should warn you, it can be quite a shock if you’re not used to seeing such things.”

  “We can handle it. For Aiden’s sake,” Mom said.

  God, that just made him feel worse. He’d put his parents through so much already.

  “And how are your lessons outside class going?” Mr. Johnson asked.

  “Good. Dylan thinks I—” Aiden broke off, realizing Mr. Johnson didn’t know about that. Or his parents. “Um, I mean Phoebe says I’m making progress.”

  Mr. Johnson gave him a long look. In a voice that was too casual, he asked, “Have you been training with Dylan?”

  Aiden looked at Mr. Johnson, then over at his parents. He didn’t want to lie to them. But he didn’t want them to worry, either. And he didn’t want to get Dylan into trouble. “Um…”

  “The truth, please.”

  Aiden swallowed and braced himself for another lecture. “Yes.”

  Mr. Johnson looked thoughtful for a moment. “What have you been practicing?”

  “Uh, well… He keeps trying to teach me fire spells, but we haven’t gotten far with that. We’ve actually been doing a lot with transformations and glamours. I’m pretty good with those.”

  “Not surprising, considering your heritage.” Mr. Johnson didn’t look mad, and Aiden’s nervousness eased a little. “Can you give me some examples?”

  Aiden glanced at his parents out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t like talking about magic in front of them. “I can change a piece of wood into a small tree. I made a pile of rocks look like gold coins. I made them look like jewels too. I made a big boulder look like a bench. I made brussels sprouts taste like chocolate cake. They still had the same texture, so it was weird, but they tasted really good.” It made him smile, thinking about him and Dylan sitting near the campfire and eating brussels sprouts like they couldn’t get enough. They really had tasted like chocolate cake. “And I made celery taste like pizza.”

  Mr. Johnson smiled. “Excellent progress.”

  “You should visit more often, Mr. Johnson,” Dad said. “This is the most we’ve heard him talk about magic. He usually just says he’s learning ‘stuff.’”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m weirder than you already do,” Aiden said quietly.

  “We don’t think you’re weird,” Mom said. “You’re different and you’re special, and we love you no matter what.”

  “You really want me to talk about magic?”

  “Yes,” his parents said almost at the same time.

  Dad said, “We’ve told you that repeatedly since we got here. We always ask about how your day went because we want to know. We don’t expect every detail of your day, but if you learned a new spell or you and Dylan did something exciting on Saturday, we want to know.” He smiled.

  “Okay.” He didn’t know if he’d ever get over his reluctance to talk about this with his parents. Then he wondered if he should talk about the dreams with the dark fae that called himself Uncle. No, no reason to make them freak out. The spell to keep him away had worked.

  * * *

  It had been two days since the fight, and Dylan was waiting—hoping, really—for something to happen. He sat at his usual table at lunch, glancing around every few seconds for Aiden. He couldn’t wait for spring when they could go outside again.

  Someone sat at the table and he looked up, expecting to see Aiden. Instead it was Hanna. Dylan paused with a french fry halfway to his mouth.

  She looked at him and smiled nervously. “Hi. Um, thanks for saving me the other day.”

  Dylan tensed, part of him wanting to tell her to go away. No one had dared to sit at the same table with him for years. No one but Aiden. But he had saved her twice now, once with Aiden and once on his own. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. “You’re welcome,” he muttered.

  “I can go somewhere else if you want. I just thought maybe…” She was a year older, but the uncertainty made her look young. “I didn’t know where else to go. I’m scared.” Her gaze flicked to the other side of the room where the pack usually sat.

  “Did he threaten you again?” Warm anger coiled in his stomach.

  Aiden arrived. “Hanna. Hi.” He sat next to her, surprised but smiling.

  “Hi, Aiden.” She smiled back. Yep, she had a crush on him. If it wasn’t serious before, it was now. Aiden had come to her rescue, so now he was a hero. She was strong enough to rip a man apart, but not strong enough to stand up to her asshole boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend.

  She looked back at Dylan. “He doesn’t have to. All he has to do is look at me, and I know.”

  “Is he over there now?” Dylan asked. Conner hadn’t been in school yesterday because the fight with Dylan had been his second that year, earning him a one-day suspension.

  Hanna looked over at the table and nodded.

  “Want me to go kick his ass? For real this time, so he gets the message?” He started to get up.

  Aiden reached across the table and grabbed his arm. “If you get in another fight, you’ll be the one suspended this time.”

  “So? He needs to learn his lesson.” And Dylan had so much anger to get out.

  “Please don’t. I don’t want you to get in more trouble.”

  “It’s okay,” Hanna said. “Just leave him alone. Maybe he won’t bother me anymore.”

  There
was no way Conner was ready to let this go. The guy had freaked out at the thought that Hanna might have a crush on Aiden, and now both Aiden and Dylan had swooped in to rescue her. She was sitting at their table. That was sure to send him into a jealous rage. He might even march over here right now and start something.

  Please.

  “Fine,” Dylan said. “I won’t start something. But if he does anything, says anything, it’s on.”

  “Would you mind if I sat with you from now on?” Hanna asked in a quiet voice. “I can find somewhere else to sit if you’d like.”

  “Of course you can sit with us,” Aiden said.

  Dylan liked it being just him and Aiden. He didn’t want anyone else at the table. But on the other hand, she was a trouble magnet. Conner Mays would come over sooner or later to start a fight.

  “Thank you. I just don’t know what else to do. I lost my pack…” Her voice hitched and her eyes filled with tears. Great. For the second time this year, he was at the table with a crying person.

  Aiden put an arm around her. “I know that must be hard, but they weren’t really your friends. Friends look out for each other, they care about each other.”

  She turned and cried into his shoulder. If Dylan couldn’t smell the sadness on her, he might have wondered if this was a great act. Things in the room had gotten quiet. Once again, they were the center of attention. Dylan itched to stand up and make a claim on Hanna just to rile Conner’s alpha instincts. But her crying all over Aiden was probably good enough.