Witch, Please (Not Your Basic Witch Book 1)

by A. J. Macey

  “Excuse me? What is so wrong with being happy? Did someone brew on the wrong side of the cauldron this morning? That’s why you’re so cranky, isn’t it?” She gave me a sympathetic face, but her eyes lit with amusement at her teasing.

  Did she just seriously use a witch pun on me? The corner of my mouth quirked up at the pun before I could stop it, but I dropped it just as quickly as she started to look proud of herself. I rolled my eyes and continued toward the main office in the admin building, content to ignore the hyper bundle of joy next to me.

  The building was on the opposite side of campus from the dorms, which meant with the way she was walking, we would get there by third class. She studied each door as we passed as if she was committing their images to memory. It’s not like they’re hard to decipher; the library literally has tomes on the door.

  “Do you like the professors here?” she asked with another excited smile.

  “Some, I guess,” I muttered, holding back an eye roll at her constant questions.

  “Is there a lot of bullying on campus?” she asked, her smile faltering for a moment. Clearly, it had been a problem before… I could see why with her odd behavior and strange peppiness. Being a Mixta definitely wouldn’t help, I noted absently.

  “Not really.” I gave her a shrug. She had the wrong guy if she wanted to ask about other people. I tended to keep to myself, and that was the way I liked it.

  “Do you have a familiar?” This time her question bothered me even more—nothing like having one of your failures called out.

  “No,” I answered after a long pause. She gave me a curious look but didn’t stop her bouncy, upbeat peppering questions as we walked.

  “It’d be nice to have a companion, especially in that tower,” she mused, completely ignoring the tone in my voice.

  “Tower?” I asked, confused what she could be talking about. All the floors were the same, and none of the rooms were in the towers. She turned around to face me, the grin spreading impossibly wider as her voice turned teasing.

  “The north tower was converted into a room for me,” she said, “and it’s probably bigger than the other dorms.”

  “Good for you. I’ll take my room on the third floor and not have to walk up all those stairs,” I deadpanned, hoping to catch a falter in her smile. She just shrugged and chuckled before continuing down the walkway, leaving me behind.

  “I don’t mind all those stairs; my ass will look amazing in a couple weeks.” She threw me a smug smile and a tiny wink over her shoulder. My eyes dipped down to the curve of her already too alluring ass as she continued to stride away. I can’t argue with that logic.

  Yanking my eyes away from that temptation, I stuffed my hands in my jean pockets and glanced around. The courtyard was basically empty, most of the other students either at breakfast or getting ready for the day. Lucky bastards, I thought as my stomach growled. The grass was still green, but knowing Aether’s weather, it would be turning brown with the impending winter in the next month or so. As much as I tried to keep my focus away from the new girl, I couldn’t stop my gaze from drifting over to her. Something about her just called for all attention on her. It could be, despite her damn incessant cheerfulness, she’s hot as hell, although I can’t imagine having to deal with her intense happiness all the time.

  Discreetly taking her in, I finally glanced at something other than her pink hair. She wore a black tutu that brushed above her knees while a plain white shirt barely brushed mid-stomach, a sliver of fair skin peeking out from between the hem of her top and the elastic band of her skirt. Dragging my eyes away from her creamy skin, I found myself staring at her shoes.

  Why does everything have to be pink?

  Low-top Converse chucks in a bubblegum pastel pink adorned her feet, her steps nearly silent as she practically bounced down the path. She paused when she reached our destination, turning to me with eyes full of anxiety before her usual perkiness took back over. Huffing, I walked around her and opened the door. She looked relieved for a moment as she followed me down the hall. I turned back around and made a right, opening the office door for her. Mrs. Briggs greeted us in her usual way, enthusiastic way, an almost sing-songy musical quality behind each word.

  “Good morning! Did you bring me the new student?” she asked, turning her smile to the new girl. “Aris Calisto, I presume?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Aris responded, stepping forward and aiming that cheerfulness at someone new. While she was distracted, I gave her one last glance before quickly ducking out of the office. Disappearing into the crowd, I headed for my first class, the sound of the clock’s chimes echoing through the courtyard and urging me to class... and away from Aris. Whose name I still didn’t care to know.

  Hope she can figure out where she’s going.

  September 2nd

  Monday Morning

  Aris

  Collecting the materials in my arms to tuck into my bag, I turned and realized my grumpy tour guide, Kyelerian, was missing. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised since he wasn’t the most enthusiastic of tour guides. Can’t wait to see him again; I’m going to throw a whole cauldron full of sassy smiles and happy greetings his way and see if I can push him far enough to throw more than two obligatory words my way. Holding back a sigh, I made my way out into the hall before pushing the thick wooden door of the Administration building open, immediately overwhelmed by a cluster of other witches in the courtyard, bustling from one location to the next. Bracing myself, I squared my shoulders and started toward my first class. The schedule said I was in Mixta Basics for two hours with Miss Ballerio, in the Elemental and Spell Casting building he had pointed out earlier. I looked for the picture of the crossed wands and elements to make sure I was at the right place.

  When I stepped into the building, I realized just how big the campus really was. The outside of the buildings all looked the same to me, but the insides were worlds apart. On the other side of the entryway stood two large arches, an image of the five elements depicted above one and the crossed wands over the other. The students around me separated and filed into their respective corridors, working their way around me seamlessly. Thankfully, this building had silver plaques that helped direct me to the correct room, and I quickly veered the winding corridors toward the spell casting wing.

  Unable to help myself, I stopped outside the door, my hand resting just above the doorknob. It felt like such a monumental moment, and now that I was facing it, I wasn’t sure how I wanted to feel. On one hand, being a Mixta in a new place made me pretty nervous, but on the other hand, I was ready to begin, excited to be surrounded by those who knew what it was like to be on the bottom of the societal totem pole. Finally, a place where I might fit in for once.

  With that in mind, I turned the knob and stepped over the threshold, moving out of the doorway when another student came up behind me and darted toward the closest open desk, almost knocking me over in the process. With my swirling emotions continuing to build, I wanted to scream and bounce around, but by some magical intervention, I stood still and quiet as I waited for class to start, unsure of where to sit. I didn’t want to risk sitting in the wrong seat and causing drama. Witches be petty.

  The professor swept into the room, her flowing dress and robe fluttering behind her, her frizzy, gray hair poking out of her ponytail, making her look slightly unhinged. Vibrant green eyes zeroed in on me as soon as she perched behind her desk. With a quick sigh, I walked up to her desk and put on my best cheerful smile.

  “Welcome, dear. You must be Aris!” she exclaimed excitedly, her hands sweeping out in an extravagant flourish as if she were speaking to a theater audience instead of just me.

  “I am,” I said with a tentative smile, her wild gesturing and excited speech making me feel awkward.

  “Class, let’s welcome our newest student, Aris Calisto! She comes all the way from Ignis!” she flourished, pausing while she waited for the students to react. When silence answered back, she waved me on to say s
omething.

  “Hi,” I squeaked, throwing my hand up in a quick wave. My cheeks heated quickly as the other students stared. Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, I turned to face the teacher with a wide smile in an attempt to urge her to start talking.

  “You haven’t missed much so far this year since we just started focusing on practical work this semester. Today, we’ll see what you’re capable of and go from there,” she barreled on, not even acknowledging the weird greeting. “Go ahead and take a seat over there while we wait for the rest of the class.”

  As soon as the words left her mouth, I hurried toward the desk she had indicated, tucking myself behind it, finally relaxing now that I wasn’t the center of attention. The other students slowly trickled in, filling the desks surrounding me. Curious glances were thrown my way, but I focused on the professor. When everyone was seated, she finally got up from behind her desk, sweeping to the front of the classroom.

  “Since we have a new student, I figured I would briefly touch on the basics of why you’re in this class. As most of you know since you’ve been here since January when the school year began,” Miss Ballerio started, “Akasha society has five major power classifications—Potions, Divination and Scrying, Elementals, Spell Casters, and Summoners. Witches who don’t fall within those five specific umbrella terms are classified as Mixtas.”

  My eyes fell to the scuffed wooden top of my desk as she explained the very basics of how we functioned. Her soft, sympathetic tone grated on my nerves as she continued to talk to us—a class full of Mixtas—as if we were stupid.

  “Since Mixtas don’t have a designated or easily identified affinity under one of the main classifications, we need to figure out exactly what you can do… if anything.” She turned toward me with an encouraging smile, but her vibrant green eyes couldn’t hide the hint of pity in them. “Aris, why don’t you come up here, and we can try a few things to see if we can figure out what’s going on with your power. While we’re doing that, everyone, please pull out your designated work plans for this semester and begin on those.”

  Unable to refuse, I slid out from behind the desk and walked to the front of the room. The others were supposed to be practicing their own tasks, but every set of eyes was on me. Gulp! Professor Ballerio pushed a rolling cart from behind her desk, an empty flower vase and several wilted flowers scattered on its surface. She gestured for me to begin, and I assumed she wanted to see what I would do on my own. Here goes nothing—probably literally.

  Using all my concentration, I focused on one of the flowers. My nerves were so high strung, knowing all eyes were on me, it did little more than twitch at first. After a calming breath, I tried again, this time bringing the flower into the air and lowering it into the vase. A collective gasp echoed sharply through the room, startling me so much, the flower jerked, knocking the vase over where it tumbled to the ground and shattered.

  “She moved that with her mind,” one of the students hissed, not even bothering to keep it low enough so I couldn’t hear.

  “She didn’t even say an incantation!” another whispered, openly pointing at me.

  “Very impressive, Miss Calisto,” Professor Ballerio said with a slow clapping of her hands. Her slightly narrowed gaze and the accompanying hint of suspicion was one I was used to receiving. Mixtas shouldn’t be capable of doing that kind of magic, yet here I was.

  I was a mystery even within an academy accepting of Mixtas. Ugh.

  “Can you move the cart without any spells or invoking hand sequences?” she asked, walking to my side and peering down at me with a calculating gaze.

  Rolling my shoulders slightly to loosen the tightening muscles, I ignored the stares burning my back and the feel of her breath on my face. After a few seconds calming myself, the cart started to roll at a steady speed until it rammed into the far wall. Not my most eloquent work, but the best I could manage under these conditions.

  “Well done, Miss Calisto. Why don’t you take your seat and look over the rule book you should have received from the office for the rest of the class? I’m going to discuss these results with your other professors this evening to determine a proper work plan for the semester,” she said, the shrewd look not leaving her eyes, scurrying behind her desk and jotting wildly in her notebook.

  Ugh, I’m a puzzle to figure out. Fun.

  Turning, I made my way back to my empty seat. The critical stares and oppressive silence seemed to radiate throughout the room as the other students watched me. The open judgment wasn’t lost on me, so I focused on doing what the professor said. You’d think Mixtas wouldn’t be this rude. I dug out the leather-bound rule book and flipped to page one, resting my elbow on the desk to cradle my cheek in my hand and cover my face from the prying eyes surrounding me.

  Hopefully, this doesn’t continue throughout the day.

  Although it’s better than being kicked out of my own house for being different.

  Positive thoughts.

  September 2nd

  Monday Midday

  Caspian

  The smell of the sleeping potion I had been making still lingered on my jacket as I made my way to my next class. It was almost noon, and here I was, already needing more coffee or a long nap—though that could be thanks to the aforementioned potion. My rusty brown hair flopped into my face as I weaved through the other students. Huffing, I raked my fingers through it to clear my vision.

  A flash of pink hair caught my eyes, and my interest piqued, a strange pull calling my gaze to her. My energy picked up even more when I noticed the peppy, petite girl who was rocking the pastel wave of curls turning into the same classroom where I was headed. Today just got interesting. That weird pull grew stronger with every step in her direction.

  I took my usual seat in the back of the room as she stood awkwardly in the front, waiting for the professor to come in. I could see the new kid jitters all the way back here as she shuffled foot-to-foot, looking completely out of place. Professor Ruslan walked in, his bald head shining in the warm glow of the floating lanterns above us, perpetual scowl in place, not even faltering as he greeted the new student. When his raspy voice echoed in the classroom, she squeaked out an answer in return, backing up several steps as she spoke.

  “You can take a seat next to Mr. Kersey in the back,” he said, not bothering to look up at her as he took out his binder of notes. My attention perked up when he mentioned my name, a grin making its way across my face at the perfect opportunity to figure out this vibe I was feeling. She turned around with a confused look since he hadn’t bother to mention where I was, and she was clearly too scared to ask. I gave a quick wave to catch her attention, gesturing to the seat beside me. The look of relief on her face was almost comical, but I knew how intense Mr. Ruslan could be, so I kept my chuckle contained, not wanting to make her feel more embarrassed. My eyes roamed over her form as she made her way to my table. The only word I could use to describe her was cute… no, she’s fucking adorable. Between her bubblegum pink hair, short stature, and pretty smile, she seemed exactly the kind of person I wanted to get to know. Thank the gods he sent her to my table.

  “Thanks,” she said as soon as she reached me, setting her bag on the table before slipping into the seat next to me, a gleam of curiosity in her gaze. The scent of candied strawberries wafted over to me as she flipped her hair behind her shoulders, turning to me with a dazzling smile.

  “Anytime. Rough first day?” I questioned, giving her a half-grin. Her cheeks took on an adorable pink tinge as she eyed my smile.

  “Not terrible, just a bit overwhelming. I just got here this morning,” she explained, her voice chipper despite the obvious anxiety rattling her. Her spirited nature seemed to seep into me, my previously tired state slipping away as I sat up a bit straighter, a wave of unexplained energy brushing over me, shaking the last of the sleepiness away.

  “Like, arrived this morning?” I quirked a brow. Why would anyone want to start school the same day as traveling? That’s just setting you
rself up to fail.

  “Yup, I got off the carriage, and the headmaster sent me straight on a tour. The tour guy left me in the admin office,” she explained, her voice holding a hint of annoyance. I felt my fingers twitch at that news. Who just leaves someone to fend for themselves in a school of five hundred witches? “After that, I got my schedule and started my first class. Now, here we are.”

  “What was your first class?”

  “Mixta basics,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to the desk, her shoulders tensing.

  “Cool, cool,” I say with a bob of my head. Why would I care if she’s a Mixta? It’s not like they asked not to have an affinity. She relaxed at my answer, her bright smile back in place.

  “Yeah, it went well. Professor Bellario was a bit intense, but she had me show her what I’m capable of…” Her words were cut off by Professor Ruslan calling class to start.

  “Get your books out and read the next chapter,” he barked. “There will be a quiz Wednesday on the basics of what you’ve read, so I suggest taking notes. No talking.” The teacher glared at us, his eyes flickering between Miss Calisto and me, in a not-so-subtle hint to stop chattering. “If I catch anyone talking or trying to send aerial messages, I will write you a detention slip, and have you report to the Assistant Headmaster for disciplinary action.”

  Pulling out the textbook from my pack, I dropped it with a thud on the wooden top before flipping to the proper page. When she didn’t move to follow the directive, I slid the book over between us. Flashing me another gorgeous smile, she turned her attention to doing our work, but no matter how hard I tried to focus, sharing a book with my new tablemate distracted me from getting any reading done. Her sweet, sugary scent tickled my nose with every tiny movement of her head. As I pretended to take notes during the rest of the period, I kept mulling over what she’d said. The way she said ‘capable of’ made her seem like it was something big. I never could resist a good mystery.