by D. R. Perry
My malfunction and my greatest asset were the exact same. I looked at every single thing as a problem. Not like an issue or an upset, but a puzzle. Anything and anyone I encountered was an equation to be solved, a piece that had to fit somewhere, an organism to be classified by genus and species. I was trying to be a doctor for people humans had not known existed until just before I was born with a scientific mind. I’d been forgetting all about my heart when an enigma had me in its teeth. At least my mental rambling considered them people and not test subjects or something.
Bobby thought I had a big heart. He’d come right out and said it to someone we’d just met. He trusted me, and believed I cared about him, not the unique mystery of his hibernation urge. No matter how friendly his baseline personality was, I got the idea that Bobby didn’t trust easily. Children of famous people rarely did. I owed it to him to do more than just hope he was right.
Shutting the water off, I dried off, then put on lotion. I took my time in the bathroom, knowing no one else would need it for at least another hour. I hadn’t washed my hair, so it wouldn’t take anywhere near that long. As I went through the minimal version of my routine, I decided to test myself in the way that felt most comfortable. I’d write and answer questions about my feelings.
Back in my room, I could barely believe I was writing out a practice test for my emotions. I usually avoided examining my feelings like my sister avoided studying, but I couldn’t do that now. Was that part of an answer? I’d told Bobby not to claim me even if his bear wanted to because he shouldn’t unless he was sure. Had that been for his benefit, or because I was afraid? Was I was only drawn to him because he had an interesting problem? Was ours a Florence Nightingale romance, destined to fizzle the moment he got better?
My hand moved the pen across the blank page as I jotted down these questions, plus a few more for good measure. I always used a pen on self-practice tests. No, no lying to myself. It was bravado that made me choose ink over graphite. Fake courage. The real test was whether I’d stand by my answers for good or ill.
I got halfway through the questions I’d asked myself. The one that stopped me was “Do you even have feelings, Lynn?” Of course, I did. If not, none of the ostracism I’d faced over the years would have bothered me. Being left out, forgotten on guest lists—none of that would have mattered if I didn’t care. I was on the verge of transferring to a crappy school from the only Ivy League I could attend because things hadn’t changed. Was I wrong?
I glanced up at the dry-erase board with Maddie’s name on it. She’d doodled little black daisies with heart-shaped centers in the corners. My roommate liked me, sticking around and expressing sadness at my plan to leave. Blaine was a scaly, egotistical pain-in-the-ass, but even he’d admitted to respecting my academic dedication. Jeannie had gone out of her way to try to convince me not to leave, and she only knew me as a random chick who had stuck up for Bobby.
I sighed as I thought of the most interesting man in the world. Not the one from those stupid liquor commercials. Bobby Tremain, the sleepy but utterly amazing bear shifter. He was the one with the big heart, the unexpectedly kind and giving nature in a sea of entitled alpha jerks. Had I sighed this much and gotten this angsty about any other guy? Not really. Not even the only other one I’d slept with.
Dan had been a study buddy, too. We never went on any actual dates, but we had spent a lot of time together at libraries and study halls. We’d had an academic rivalry going on, which I’d won when I beat him in the GPA department by three whole tenths of a percent. The big mystery about him for me had been how he got grades so effortlessly. We’d both lost interest in each other as soon as we’d scratched our hormonal itch. I never figured out his haphazard study methods, and I stopped caring almost instantly.
Bobby’s issue was ongoing, yes, but he still occupied my thoughts and feelings, even after we’d gone to bed together. If anything, I was even more invested in helping him now than before. I was afraid of too many things to figure out which had priority. Fear of failing him, fear of how I felt, fear of how he felt. When a bear shifter claimed a mate, it lasted until one of them was dead, sometimes even after. I’d heard stories from psychics about how their ghosts would wait around until their mates died and they’d cross over together. His own father was in a wheelchair for the rest of his life because he’d pushed his mate out of the way of a truck. Even if Bobby and his bear were ready for that kind of commitment, was I?
I closed my eyes, feeling the trickle of tears I hadn’t noticed before. I tried to imagine what it’d be like if he failed, got sent back home, and I never saw him again. That was too mixed up with failure in general for me to grok it. I shook that scenario off, replacing it with how I’d feel if he passed and I transferred back to Wisconsin.
I dropped the pen, slumping on my side and curling into a ball on the bed. My pillow smelled faintly and pleasantly musky, like Bobby. I felt something break within me, strong emotions rushing over and around like rapids against my flailing logic. I couldn’t take thinking about just leaving and never seeing him again. Was that love? Did it matter if it fell a little short of that considering we hadn’t had much time together? I definitely cared more about Bobby than anyone else here at PPC and everyone else back home I wasn’t related to.
Sitting up, I grabbed a tissue and wiped my eyes. I glanced at the clock. It was time for the last round of studying over at the dining hall. I dressed and grabbed the already packed bag of Ecology notes and books. After that, I grabbed my makeshift emotional quiz and ran it through the shredder next to my desk. That was one lesson I wouldn’t forget. I’d be a few minutes late, but at least, I’d be able to concentrate. Maybe. I’d have to see when I got there.
I walked to the dining hall, passing people on the way. Some snow had melted during the day, and a crust of ice had re-frozen on the top in the late-afternoon twilight. I glanced at the library. The snow pile on the overhang looked more precarious and dangerous now. It had icicles like the teeth I could imagine in Blaine’s shifted-form mouth. More snow would just make it worse. Hunger derailed that train of thought. It was later than I usually got dinner, and my stomach sounded like a Sarlacc pit. Cloned mercenaries had better stay out of my way. I pushed through the door.
Bobby sat at a table near the food line with Blaine, who looked like he’d gotten some sleep. A bowl of cereal was in front of the seat next to Bobby, a spoon with a napkin on one side and a glass of milk on the other. I sat down and poured, then looked up and smiled.
“You know me too well already, Bobby.” I picked up the spoon and practically inhaled the honey-nut oat goodness.
“They have veggie chili if you want that too. I didn’t want it to get cold, or that’d be there instead of the one-letter alphabet cereal.” Bobby stared right into my eyes. I didn’t want him to stop, but my stomach demanded otherwise. I’d slept for close to twenty hours.
“Chili sounds awesome, thanks.” I watched Bobby get up as I finished the cereal and pushed it aside to make room for the books I pulled from my backpack. “Don’t say one word, Blaine.”
The dragon shifter just drummed his fingers on the table, biting his lip as he let out a faintly frustrated hum. He grabbed a notebook and scrawled a word across it. I glanced down to see “Taskmaster” pointed at me.
“Okay, you can talk, but not about sex.” I didn’t look up, just watched Blaine’s notebook slowly slide away from me across the table.
“Tiamat’s scales!” Blaine turned a color that might have embarrassed a beet. “Wasn’t going to. Dammit, Lynn, I’m a dragon, not a counselor. I just wanted to tell you Bobby made some friends last night. You can actually study your lab stuff and sleep before the exam tomorrow morning if you want.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “Well, I guess that’s one cat out of the bag. I have a bit of news that might be bad, though.”
“Great, just what we need.” Blaine rolled his eyes, then sipped soda through a straw. He glanced up at Bobby, who’d just gotten ba
ck with two plates of food. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth, reminding me for all the world of a person talking with a cigarette between his lips. “Hit me.”
“Weather alert says it will snow again tonight.” I pulled out my phone, showing them the message on the app.
“Looks like a bad prediction.” Blaine peered at the screen. “What is that app, anyway? I’ve never seen that one before.”
“It’s one I got during orientation. Some Precognitive Psychic student made it or something.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was even set up to give me alerts, but that was what woke me up.
“Psychic, huh?” Blaine passed the phone to Bobby. “Let me go outside for a minute or three. There’s something I want to check.” He didn’t wait for either of us to answer, just left.
“Lynn, this app doesn’t have a way to toggle alerts.” He swiped around a few times. “It really must be Psychic if it automatically informs you of weather events that might affect you.”
“I don’t know much about Psychic anything. Do you?” I twirled a French fry in my cup of ketchup.
“Just that it’s individual to the person. Like, a Psychic might be able to talk to ghosts, but can’t see the future. That kind of thing. They're one-trick ponies.” He passed the phone back to me.
“So it’s kind of like Magus power?” I stared down at the app displayed on my screen. A little red flashing cylinder in one corner gave me a bad feeling.
“A little, but also completely different.” He chewed on a piece of fish. “You don’t have any idea where you got it?”
“I think it was a table at orientation.” I scratched my head. “The thing I really remember was the girl who installed it. She seemed terrified for some reason. Kept glancing over her shoulder.”
“She was a student here?” Bobby pulled his own phone out and swiped through, shaking his head.
“The right age to be for sure, but I don’t know. Definitely not professor age or anything. And she wasn’t a vampire because it was broad daylight.” I shivered a little, remembering how wild-eyed the girl had looked. “She was pale with black, curly hair.”
“I think this is some kind of warning then, Lynn. Probably more personal than a weather report.” Bobby looked up. “I don’t have that app on my phone, so she definitely didn’t give it to everyone. I do remember seeing a nervous girl like that at orientation, though.”
“Give me that phone now, Lynn.” Blaine leaned across the table, dropping his jacket on the floor. His skin should have been covered with gooseflesh, but instead, it looked a little scaly. Smoke trailed behind him, stretching in lines all the way back to the door he’d just walked through. I handed it over. “I did a partial shift to hone my magic senses for the next six hours.”
Blaine’s eyes went wide and changed color from brown to red. Not the bloodshot kind, but bright red like fire. His pupils were vertical, too. He glared at my phone, then traced one finger along the screen. A tiny spark flew up, shaped like a large snowflake.
“We’ve got a problem, Frampton.” He set the phone down on the table, unconsciously wiping his hands on his jeans like the phone had been oily or something, even though I knew it wasn’t. “That app senses magic-induced weather events better and faster than I can, but it’s attuned to you like Bobby’s amulet’s attuned to him. Take a look through the history and tell me the last time it went off.”
“Fine.” I tapped and swiped until the information I wanted came up. “Hoo, boy. It was the storm that dropped all that snow the other night. You said that one was magic too, right, Blaine?”
“I think that Psychic wanted you to know this. That someone’s messing with Bobby, wants him to flunk out.” Blaine took a few deep breaths, his eyes and skin taking on a more human appearance. “Even worse, they might be messing with PPC in general.”
“I’d say that’s ridiculous, but you have a point about the college in general.” Bobby looked pale, his mouth a flat line. “PPC opening its doors to all kinds is pretty recent, and I’m the highest-profile student here. If someone wants to make the school look bad by having the son of a famous but disabled prizefighter flunk his first semester because he can’t control his bear, that might work.”
“Well, we won't let them make it happen.” I pushed my plate away, my appetite gone. “You’re passing.” I glanced down at his accurate notes covering half the table. He’d been working on Ecology even without me there. “You know the material. We just have to get you through until you can use Henry’s amulet and you’re golden.”
“I hope so, Lynn.” Bobby took a deep breath, the color returning to his face as he gazed at me.
“Me too.” Blaine looked more fearsome than I’d ever seen him. “I think you and Frampton just painted a couple of huge targets on your backs, and once the magic snow starts flying, I won’t be much use to either of you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Bobby
I passed all of Lynn’s old practice quizzes. I got every flashcard right. Maybe whatever Henry had worked on at the table with me the night before had rubbed off. Maybe I really was that good at the subject now. It was the foundation for my career of choice, after all, something I was interested in. At any rate, she’d been right, and I had Watkins’ material on lock-down.
I also had a sick feeling in my stomach. Momma’s side of the family had dreams, and sometimes the heebie-jeebies when something terrible was about to happen. She’d had a bad feeling on the day the truck almost hit her and got Dad instead. The way she always described it sure sounded a lot like how I felt that night. I waffled between not wanting to let Lynn out of my sight and getting as far away from her as I could so whoever was after me wouldn’t be anywhere near her. Lynn was on edge, too. She kept looking over her shoulder or out the window.
Blaine kept both our heads in the game. His asides and tangents worked on our moods like pressure relief valves. I was surprised he had himself that together, with his dragon so close to the surface in partial-shift mode. Then again, maybe it was a façade. He might just be using his own defense mechanism, which also happened to keep Lynn and me from going all freakazoid.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this to anyone besides myself, but I think you know everything, Bobby.” Lynn yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I don’t think there’s anything else for us to go over.”
“What about the other classes?” Blaine raised his eyebrow.
“All those were papers or presentations.” I gathered all the flashcards into a pile and banded them together. “They were done before the snow hit.”
“This is the point where I tell study buddies to go get some sleep, but that won't fly here.” Lynn glanced out the window again. “It looks like it’s clouding up out there. I have that lab practical after Ecology tomorrow, and I should go over notes for it.”
“Want to bring them to the Nocturnal Lounge?” At that moment, my anxiety pendulum was on the “keep Lynn close” side of things. “It’s an interesting place to go. I’ve got invites from Tony and Henry, so we can both get in.”
“There’s a lab study group over at the library.” Lynn tucked the flashcards in her backpack with her other books. “They’re nowhere near as good of company as you, but maybe they’ll let me join them.”
“I understand.” I stood up when she did, pulling her close before she left. “Be careful,” I murmured into her hair.
“I will.” She pulled back to look at me before stepping away. “I’ll be perfectly safe, and I’ll make sure it’s not a white-out when I head back to the dorm. See you in the morning, Bobby.”
“See you soon, Lynn.” I watched her go, with that horrible sick feeling coming over me like Dagobah swamp gas. I sat down without really meaning to. After I’d taken a few deep breaths, I felt Blaine’s hand on my arm.
“Wake up, man!” He shook me by the shoulder. “Should I text her and ask her to come back?”
“No.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “I could just head over to th
e Nocturnal Lounge. You want to be my plus one?”
“My partial shift means getting caught in a magical snowstorm would be bad news. I could end up going on a dragon rampage all over campus. Besides, I have homework too, Bobby.” The red in Blaine’s eyes deepened with frustration, even though his face wore a mask of droll boredom. His mouth barely moved when he spoke, making him sound like Thurston Howell from Gilligan’s Island. “It’s not the kind of thing they’ll be happy with me doing in there.” He glanced around, then leaned close and lowered his voice. “Seelie pictographs from the nineteenth century.”
“Oh. Yeah. Don’t come with me then.” I wrinkled my nose. Whatever issue the Goblin King’s Changelings had with even the mention of anything Seelie had already gotten old. More importantly, if Blaine was worried enough to admit he might lose his dragon’s leash, I didn’t want him to risk it.
“I’ll walk you over there, though. The app says the snow won’t start for at least another hour. That tunnel’s dark, and Lynn told you to be careful of that kind of thing.” He stood up and grabbed his satchel.
“How did you know where the night crew hangs out?” I rose and followed him through the dining hall and the doors. The cold air just made me sleepy, unlike last night. It was like my bear had no reason to stay awake with Lynn gone.
“I had to interview a Redcap for a midterm project.” Blaine snorted. “He ate pizza the entire time.”
“Wait, was his name Fred?” I was starting to think coincidence didn’t exist, or if it did, that it didn’t work the way I’d thought.
“Yeah. You met him, I guess.” Our feet crunched across the layer of snow still on the ground.
“Kind of a difficult guy to miss, what with the bright red hat and him being almost my size and all.” I felt the heaviness in the air and realized that Lynn’s psychic weather app had been right. Oh yeah, it would snow big-time.
