“Yes, so hot,” I grind out, and thankfully my reply is lost in the sea of screaming.
He grasps the mic from the dean, giving her a kiss on the cheek for good measure. I roll my eyes when she blushes, clutching at the place his lips had touched. The sight almost makes me scream, I know what those lips feel like! They’re not that great! That’s right, of all things, he had stolen my first kiss as a child. Well, stolen isn’t the right word. More like coaxed.
He turns to the crowd, his blue eyes shining, giving them the full force of his alluring smile. “Good morning! Thank you again for choosing Illusions Academy, you won’t regret it. Now, contrary to what the dean informed you of, we don’t quite have enough of us to pair one on one. So make groups of four with students of a similar skill level, and then line up against the wall by the stage. A second year student will approach you to begin the tour. Slow and orderly, thank you!”
He puts the microphone back on the stand before waving to the crowd one last time, who roars like he’s a celebrity. His smug confidence grinds against me, shaving parts of myself away. I’m so distracted by it that when Sage turns to me, looking hopeful, I don’t even remember her asking me a question.
“Ah, sorry. What did you say?” I ask.
She leans closer, “Can we tour together? We’re all sixes. What’s your power level?”
My blood runs cold. I don’t know my power level, the test was waived. I blurt something out, “Uh, my power level is an eight.”
She visibly deflates, “Ah, too bad. Well, I’ll see you back at the dorm, okay?”
Her and her friends move away from me and I begin cursing myself. Why did I say such a high level? It’d be easier to convince people of a mediocre level rather than a high one, but at the same time my mother's expectations made me blurt out the impossible. Is there even another group of eights here? There has to be, it’s not that rare.
“I knew I’d find you all alone. Either you scared everyone away, or you’re too powerful to match with anyone. So which is it?”
Chapter Three
I wince at the voice behind me, but turn anyhow to find Demetri standing there, looking perfect in his second year uniform. He’s grinning, and now that he’s closer to me I can see the dimples that emerge when he does. His hair is the same swooping chocolate brown, and it looks like he just rolled out of bed, but I know it’s styled to look that way. Plus, he still has the freckles he hoped would disappear once he got older. Looks like they didn’t. It’s a good thing too because they make him look innocent, trustworthy. I’m sure that it reels the girls into him, too bad it won’t work on me.
“Hello to you too, Demetri,” I say.
He steps closer, but I take a step away. “Oh don’t be like that El, you know me.”
I roll my eyes. “No, I don’t, and don’t call me that.”
He chuckles, and it kills me that even his laugh is sexy. “Why not? It’s your nickname.”
“It hasn’t been for a very long time. Now leave me alone, I have to find a group.”
Before I can turn away he’s there, grasping my arm. Magic sparks between us, and for the first time my magical well surges within me, crashing into him. Golden magic fills the air for less than a second before snapping back into me, and Demetri marvels at it, as do I. I’ve never been able to use any kind of natural magic, and for it to explode out of me the moment he touches my skin makes fury stir in my chest. I jerk my arm out of his grip, glaring.
“Leave me alone Demetri,” I hiss.
I begin to stalk away, but he follows alongside me, “What power level are you? Because that felt like a ten, or at the very least a nine like your dad.”
“I’m an eight.”
He laughs, “Oh come on! I’m an eight and my power doesn’t even come close to what I just felt. Plus, golden magic? I’ve never even seen such a thing.”
“Will you give it a rest?” I groan.
“No, because even if you're an eight like you say, you won’t find one here. This year is full of sixes and sevens, but no eights. So you’re stuck with me, I took all the same classes last year.”
I stop, turning my glare back on him, and he has the decency to flinch. “If I find out you’re lying I swear to god I’ll hurt you.”
He makes a crisscross motion over his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
I stand aside, motioning for him to lead the way out of the auditorium. The moment I do his smile returns full force, and he holds out his arm for me to take. I roll my eyes, ignoring him, and walk toward the exit. He takes two running steps to catch up, giving me a hurt look.
“You’re the same old El, that’s for sure. Do you even know what fun means?” he teases.
His words pierce my armor, but I refuse to flinch at the jest. He’s the same old Demetri too, knowing the exact buttons to push, the exact phrases he can say to hurt me. We’ve always been this way with each other, grating on the other’s nerves. It was for the best years ago when we stopped seeing each other, and now here he is, ready to torture me again.
I wonder if my mother knew he went here.
Who am I kidding, of course she did.
We walk toward the first year building in silence, but I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my skull. I can sense that he has a million burning questions, but even if he asks, I won’t be answering them. He doesn’t deserve to know anything about me. We were never what I’d call close. The only thing I could call us is childhood rivals.
We walk into the building behind several other groups, and once inside, Demetri throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. Anger surges through me and I try to shrug him off, but he holds on tightly, smiling at anyone we pass. Girls from other groups glare openly at me, jealous of how quickly I became close to him.
My magic responds each time his fingers brush against the bare skin of my arm, surging and then calming. Over and over again. It begins to exhaust me, how many times it happens. It’s a casual, non-intentional, brush of the fingertips and yet it's wreaking havoc in my system.
“Stop it, people are going to get the wrong idea,” I whisper.
“That’s the point,” he replies with no further explanation.
“God you're insufferable,” I say, shoving my elbow into his side.
His breath whooshes out of him, “Ugh, would you stop resisting? I’m trying to help you not become a social pariah.”
“I think the opposite is happening! The girls are going to hate me, and plus, people will think you’re sucking up to the new school heiress.”
We cut into an empty classroom and he lets me go. I stumble back, gripping the nearest desk with shaking fingers. My body is drained, and to my dismay, he is glowing with golden magic. He looks down at himself in wonder, flipping his hands from side to side. The entire time I was leaking my magic, he was absorbing it.
“What the hell is this?” he asks, pointing an accusing finger at me.
I raise my hands. “I honestly don’t know, I swear. I didn’t mean to. Does it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t. Jesus, El. Do you not know how to control your powers at all?”
What I want to say is that I didn’t think I had any, let alone some like this. And another thing, it only happens when I touch you. Yeah. . . That would go over really well, wouldn’t it? Not only would he think I’m attracted to him, but he’d also assume that I’m crazy. So that’s what I won’t say.
“No! That’s why I’m here. My mother refused to teach me early, she’s a lawmaker. If she broke the rules what kind of example would that set?” I almost shout due to my own panic.
He grips my shoulders tightly, forcing me to look at him. “Alright, alright. Calm down. We can figure this out.”
I push him off, stumbling back. “We? No. Take me on the tour, show me my classrooms, and then we’re done. I don’t need or want anything from you.”
He narrows his eyes. “God you’re still stubborn as hell aren’t you? What is your problem? I’m just trying to h
elp you!” The moment he fists his hands by his sides, the golden magic dims, rushing out of him.
“And I said I don’t need your help!”
The door to the classroom creaks open and a dark haired girl with green eyes pokes her head in. Her eyes slide over me and light up on Demetri, filling with excitement. She looks back at me, smirking. What does she think this is? My palms sweat nervously, and I rub them across the skirt of my uniform in an attempt to wipe it off.
“Demetri, are you yelling at a first year on orientation day? You’re cruel, but not that cruel,” the girl says, her tone sickly sweet.
He glances at her, disinterest clear on his face, “No, Allison, I’m just—”
I cut him off, “Yeah, he is. He’s being an ass, will you show me where I can find a different tour partner?”
He frowns, and goes to step forward, but Allison beats him to it, gripping my arm. “Of course! Follow me.”
She glances back at him as we walk out, mouthing something that I don’t quite catch. Demetri doesn’t follow us out of the building, and I breathe a sigh of relief, that is, until the girl rounds on me, a look of fury on her face. Her grip on my arm grows tighter, and I try yanking it away, only to find she’s much stronger than she looks.
“Demetri is my boyfriend, got it? I don’t know what you two were yelling at each other, or how you know him, but don’t even try it,” she sneers.
I inch away from her and square my shoulders. “Excuse me? He took me on the tour because I’m a level eight, and the only reason I know him is from my childhood.”
Her face goes white and she looks from side to side. “Wait a second. Are you Elise?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“The council master’s daughter, Elise?”
“The one and only.”
We stare at each other then, before she simply turns on her heel and walks quickly away, glancing back as she goes. What kind of rumors could there possibly be about me already, or rather, about my mother? It kills me to think that the students might have preconceived notions about me or my family, and that they might be right.
Lord save me.
Chapter Four
The rest of my day is spent alone wandering around campus with my class list, trying to find the right rooms. I was able to figure out which classes I have in the first year building, but the final two seem to be advanced level and I’m not sure where to go for that. If only I hadn’t been paired with Demetri. That man is the bane of my existence, I can’t help but explode when he’s around. He’s proven to be the same boy I knew years ago, as annoying and cocky as ever, except more handsome. The world is so unfair.
My feet carry me to the other side of campus, and the map in my hands indicates I’m at the third year classroom building. It looks the same as all of the others, made with pristine red brick and crawling with deep green ivy. Despite how impressive the schooling is here, the campus itself is normal looking, like it’s any other prestigious college campus.
When I push into the entryway it echoes, bouncing off of the tall glass doors lining the hall. No one is around, and I wouldn’t expect them to be, third years won’t be on campus for another few days. They’re not worried about being here early, they know their way around like it’s the back of their hand. Despite the chill I get from the empty building, I walk down the halls, trying to match the class to the room number.
“What are you doing here, first year?” a deep, older voice inquires.
I spin around, coming face to face with what must be a professor. He’s tall, youthful, and wearing a pressed navy suit. I can feel the power he has rolling off of him, and his magic aura glows dully, a depressing inky gray color matching his eyes. It must be true that all the professors here are at a power level of eight or higher because this man rivals my parents.
If he’s a professor, I hope he isn’t mine. They’re not supposed to be this mysteriously hot, in a brooding kind of way. And the longer I look into his eyes, the less threatening and dull they become. Now I notice the ring of silver around the edge, and the crow’s feet on either side that suggest hours spent laughing.
“Well?” he asks.
“Ah, uh, sorry. I’m trying to find my advanced classes. I thought they might be here,” I sputter nervously, my cheeks flaming.
He snatches the schedule from my hands while shooting me a look I can’t read. “This is the third year building, I doubt any of your classes will be here.” He pauses, looking it over, and surprise flickers across his face when he reads my name. “Ah, I suppose you’re the exception, aren’t you? It seems you have advanced affinity magic and phrenic testing in this building. Follow me.”
He turns on his heel and strides down the hall quickly, forcing me to jog after him. The silence stretches between us as he leads me up a flight of stairs and around two corners. I’m about to ask where these classrooms are located when he opens the third door down on the right, flourishing his hand for good measure.
The classroom looks like my high school science lab. Tall wooden tables with black tops line the edges of the room, and each one has a wide range of objects sitting atop it, with the chairs facing the middle where a large teacher’s desk sits. It looks like we’d follow along with the teacher's presentation on phrenic magic. Before I can take a step further into the room, the door closes with a firm click, forcing me to jump back in shock. I look back at the teacher to find him smiling, his fingers poised in the air like he had just used magic. Did he do that?
“And here is your affinity classroom,” he says, turning to a door across the hall and opening it.
It’s normal, like all the other classrooms, sporting rows of desks facing a white board. Nothing fancy. It deflates my excitement about the academy. If only it lived up to the rumors of flying objects, magic zapping through the air, and quirky teachers letting it all happen. Instead all I get is normal looking classrooms and the grouch of a man standing behind me. Damn.
“Alright, I’ll show you out. First year students are not allowed in the third year building unattended. Come along,” he snaps his fingers, something I must have missed earlier, and the door slams shut.
We make our way back to the first floor silently, my gloom hanging over me. I’m sure he noticed my sudden change of mood, but decided not to comment on it. That’s the move of a high school teacher if I’ve ever seen one. It really is all the same. I stop at the double doors, turning to stick my hand out. He glances at it, that same unreadable expression from earlier on his face. Is he upset? Bored? Constipated?
“Thank you for showing me to my classrooms. I appreciate it, uh, professor. . .?” I lead into the question, hoping to catch his name.
He glances up from my still outstretched hand, and his eyes appear darker, more wolfish than before. “Alagan Jacobson. Professor Jacobson.” Instead of taking my hand in his like a normal person, he turns, striding back the way he came.
I let my hand fall to my side while stuffing a strange sense of disappointment deep down into my chest.
***
The next morning it’s Saturday, two days before the start of class. The academy officials require all first years to come to the campus at least a weekend early, so that we can get comfortable with our roommates and make friends. Statistically it makes us less likely to become overwhelmed with the sudden life change, at least, that’s what my mother said.
It’s not working for me.
Sage is gone by the time I rise from bed at ten thirty. I can’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding me now that she knows my power level. Hopefully not, she seems like a good person who may make an even better ally. Keep your friends close and your potential secret revealers closer, you know?
I stretch, taking a good look around the girly room my mother had designed for me. It appears that the white was a base for everything else which is in varying shades of pink. The curtains are white on the top, slowly fading to blush pink on their way to the floor. My comforter is hot pink, and I had to throw at least eight ro
se gold fluffy pillows onto the floor last night before climbing into bed. Even the lamp on my bedside table is salmon colored, along with several stupid knick-knacks sitting on top of my dresser across the room. Several instruments lean against the walls around the room, reminding me that my mother wanted me to show off my musical ability while here, even though I haven’t played in years.
The only thing here that’s actually mine are the picture frames on the bedside table with snapshots of my father and I inside. They make me smile despite the totally foreign environment. I hope my mother at least packed my clothes from home, if they’re in shades of pink too, I’ll lose it. It seems she’s trying to portray me as a perfect eighteen year old daughter who loves her, is a master musician, and who’s favorite color is pink. Please, nothing could be farther from the truth.
Her expectations are suffocating even when she isn’t here to push them on me. How fitting. I make my bed out of habit, smoothing down the covers before walking out into the kitchen. The smell of coffee drifts toward me and my mouth waters in response. A cute floral cup sits in front of the pot, and inside it is a note.
Went to the rec hall with some other girls. Join us when you wake up! -Sage
An unwitting smile comes to my lips when I read over the note. She left, but also made sure I didn’t feel abandoned. Maybe this girl isn’t so bad and we can be friends of sorts. I’ve never had a close friend since I was homeschooled for my entire life before attending the academy. The only person I saw frequently was Demetri and that obviously had consequences. I’m awkward now, an eighteen year old with the social abilities of a cucumber.
I take a sip of coffee, sighing at my own pathetic thoughts. There’s nothing worse than being a loner in school. I’d be asking to get picked on, well, if my mother wasn’t who she is. No one will touch me with the last name I have, but that doesn’t mean they won’t talk behind my back. To prevent it, I have to make friends early, not to be popular, but to be presentable. At least that’s what I tell myself.
A Charmed Mind: Mage Paranormal Romance (Illusions Academy Book 1) Page 2
