One Kind of Wicked: A Reverse Harem Academy Series (The True and the Crown Book 1)

by May Dawson

  “Yeah.” I’m probably not your average girl from Avalon anymore.

  Too bad I don’t know what that something else is.

  “Thanks for the itinerary.” I hold the papers up he brought. “I’ll make sure Stelly gets hers.”

  His eyebrows rise before I catch how that could have sounded like a threat. I’ll make sure Stelly gets hers. I certainly don’t have a warm-and-fuzzy toward my roommate right now.

  “Come find me if you need anything,” he says. Is his voice cooler than before or is it my imagination that I’ve broken the flirtation between us? “My door is always open.”

  God, what is wrong with me? I just shoved him against the wall like I wanted to kiss him.

  “Mine isn’t.” I reach past him for the door handle and yank the door open, then turn on my heel and head for the window.

  My heart pounds in my chest and I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do if he’s still there when I turn around, but by the time I reach the window, I hear the soft click of the door closing again.

  I rest my forehead against the cool glass. The trees below sway in the breeze, their leafy arms shaking above the grass.

  We might be the only friends you have, Cax told me, but I’m certainly not much of a friend myself.

  I hurry to dress and get out the door as Stelly rolls to one side. I’ve had enough human interaction for one day, and it isn’t even eight in the morning yet.

  Outside Rawl House, the morning is bright and warm, and the sky is a deep shade of blue speckled by a handful of cotton-candy clouds. I follow the map on my itinerary, but I might as well just follow the crowd of freshmen.

  Before I know it, I’m sitting in a long row of wooden desks with a pencil and a math test. I flip through both sheets of paper, which are stapled together. I like to know what I’m in for. The black numbers seem small and crowded and foreign between the white spaces.

  All right, back to question number one.

  g(x)=9+4x

  h(x)=(x+21)/5

  Write (h=g)(x) as an expression in terms of x.

  I definitely remember being taught algebra in school, or rather, someone trying to teach me algebra. That was after I’d settled into my first foster home, and unfortunately, algebra came after the man from Avalon paid me a visit. I couldn’t concentrate for months afterward.

  For the next hour, I doodle intensely while leaning over my paper, trying to make sure no one can see that I’m sketching squares inside squares. I don’t want to walk out in the middle; everyone will know I couldn’t finish the test. This way, only the person who grades it will know I’m an idiot.

  Oh, right. I go back and erase my name from the top of my page. Now I don’t exist.

  By the time I drop my paper face-down on the stack at the front of the class and escape back out into the sunshine, I know there’s no way I’m going to the magic test. I need to find a way to learn math and regain my magic before classes begin tomorrow, and the only way that would happen would involve magic itself.

  Instead, I go back to my room to hide—I hope desperately that I won’t run into Airren, who always seems to be everywhere I turn—and when I walk in, the room is dim. The blue-and-white curtains are still drawn over the windows. I run my hand over the wall automatically, expecting a light switch. All I find is flat, cool wall.

  I run my hand over the wall again, studying it carefully, but of course, there is no switch. When I got here yesterday, Stelly must have controlled the lights like every magician does; the light globe hanging from our ceiling and at our desks is controlled mentally. These spells are a low hum in the back of a magician’s mind, something that doesn’t take up any brain power once you’ve grown accustomed to it.

  I palm the light globe on my desk and visualize it brightening, warming against my hand. When nothing happens, I climb into bed so I can pretend to be taking a nap if Stelly comes in. It’s only when I’ve snuggled under my fleece that I realize I can do my homework just fine if I open the curtains back up. But let’s be honest: I don’t really want to. Instead, I stare up at the ceiling and formulate a plan for what I can do after I inevitably fail out of Corum.

  I can hear Stelly stopped on the other side of the door, talking to someone down the hall; Stelly has a light, slightly nasal voice. I have a feeling that, after a week, it will be the most annoying sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

  Then she swings open the door and freezes as soon as she realizes she’s not alone.

  “Are you napping?” she asks, in a horrified tone.

  “I was.” I throw my arm over my eyes, even though I wasn’t napping at all; I was replaying the complete catalog of dumb things I’ve done over the last twenty-four hours.

  “Well, come down for registration,” she says.

  I move my arm and open one eye. I didn’t expect any kind of invitation from Stelly, even an invite to someplace I don’t really want to be.

  “Sorry about earlier,” she says stiffly. “I don’t deal well with surprises.”

  “Me either.” So far everything in Avalon feels new and surprising. Algebra definitely feels surprising.

  Stelly and I head down the stairs together and join the line snaking through the hall into the cafeteria. A few folks sit at tables on one side of the cafeteria, taking careful notes on classes and sending them back to the registrar’s office. The notes rise in small, silver bubbles, blown out the open windows across campus. We don’t have cell phones or text messaging here; we have the bubbles.

  “Which magic do you think you’re going to take?” Stelly asks.

  I glance behind me, expecting she must be talking to someone else, before I turn back to her. She purses her lips to one side as if she thinks I’m being dramatic.

  “The lowest one, I imagine.”

  “Me too. I’ve always been more of an academic—Cax is the one who has the easy time with magic.”

  “Oh, so you’re Cax’s little sister we’ve all heard so much about.” The boy in front of us twists back, flashing us a grin.

  “Oh, please,” she groans, although she smiles anyway.

  “I’m Luca.” He holds out his hand to both of us in turn.

  I murmur nice to meet you, but don’t volunteer my name, and no one seems to notice.

  “I should’ve asked to be in a different house than my weirdo brother,” Stelly grouses.

  Luca grins. “Are you two roommates?”

  Stelly glances at me, her eyes widening slightly, before turning a bright smile on Luca. “Yes.”

  “I hope you get along.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s cute, with wavy dark hair bobbing over a thin face. “My roommate and I both got here three weeks ago for sports, and…” he shakes his head dramatically. “Speaking of weirdos. I swear he wasn’t such a weirdo when I signed up to be roommates again back in May.”

  “What sport do you play?” Stelly’s voice is a little softer, a little breathier, than I’ve heard it before.

  I cock my head, trying to make sense of her. She must think Luca is cute. Her eyes meet mine, and she sweeps her hair back and straightens her shoulders.

  “Soccer,” he says. “My roommate’s a swimmer though.”

  “Swimmers are always odd.” The guy next to Luca turns, miming a forward crawl with muscular arms. “Just follow the line, follow the line. It’s not healthy.”

  “Coming from someone who slams their head into a ball on the regular.” The girl ahead of him shoots back. I think she’s the same blonde girl I saw outside the dorm the day I came here—playing soccer—no matter what barbs she has about it now. Her hair is pulled tightly back and she wears a black sweater over a plaid miniskirt.

  Stelly joins the sophomores in chatting about sports and classes, and I stand in the midst of their new small crowd, listening to their chatter. It’s comfortable to feel included, even if I don’t know what to add to the conversation.

  Luca groans. “This line is taking forever, and I’m starving.”

  “We
ate lunch an hour ago.” The blonde says.

  By now, I’ve figured out that her name is Josie, and the other soccer player is David.

  Luca rolls his eyes. “Two hours ago,” he says to me in a confiding voice.

  I only ran into the cafeteria at lunch to grab an apple, and my stomach growls in response as if it wants Luca to know they’re on the same team.

  Luca grins and digs into his backpack. “I’ve got a chocolate bar. You want some?”

  “I’m okay,” I say, but he’s already snapped the foil-wrapped bar in half and handed it to me. I hesitate, but the creamy, rich smell of the chocolate is irresistible, so I reach out and take it. “Thank you.”

  It’s time to be a new Tera Donovan, right?

  “That’s our Luca, prepared for any emergency as long as it’s stomach-related,” Josie teases.

  He takes a bite and then holds the bar out to her. She rolls her eyes and then leans forward to nibble a piece. They all seem so comfortable together. I take a bite of chocolate too. It’s intensely chocolatey, not too sweet, crunchy with slivers of almonds and sweetened by bits of black cherry. I swear I haven’t had really good chocolate for as long as I’ve been Earthside, and my eyes drift shut as I tease out all the rich flavors on my tongue.

  “Well, what classes are you taking, Tera Donovan?” the girl behind me asks, her voice louder than it needs to be.

  My eyes open quickly as I turn to face her. Even as I do, Luca’s face changes, and Josie’s and David’s too.

  Stelly shakes her head like she doesn’t approve, but her eyes have fallen to the floor.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” My voice comes out cool and strong.

  “My father is on the board,” she says. “He says they’re not going to allow you to take any dark magic classes.”

  “Those aren’t for freshmen anyway.” Josie crosses her arms over her chest. “They wouldn’t allow you either, Grace.”

  Stelly’s eyes rise to take in Josie, who stands tall and fierce all of a sudden, her eyes narrowed at Grace.

  For a second, Grace seems to flounder, her blue eyes widening. Then she manages to say, “We all know it’s different.”

  She thought she was doing everyone a favor by making sure they know who I am. She seems startled by anyone pushing back. I know if I’d said anything, it would have made me look like the evil witch. My chest fills with gratitude for this girl who has randomly defended me, but I can’t do anything but nod my thanks to Josie. Josie either ignores me or doesn’t see me, because she’s still staring down Grace.

  Grace flips her hair as she turns back to her other friend, and her eyes are still on me as they lean together to whisper. I turn my back to them.

  “She’s going to graduate summa cum laude of bitchery, anyway,” Josie says.

  David grins, resting his elbow on her shoulder. “Don’t ever change, Jo.”

  “Oh, I won’t,” she promises.

  Blood buzzes in my ears. It makes the happy scene in front of me distant, as I try to push down my fight-or-flight instinct.

  “Ignore Grace,” Josie says, her voice so low and close in my ear that she makes me jump. “She thinks her daddy makes her a big deal. That’s not how the world works.”

  Stelly’s eyes meet mine, wide and concerned. Then they call Luca up to the registration table. I’m thankful I’m almost done here and then can escape back to my room. Not that it’s much of an escape, with Stelly there too. I’m sure Stelly would have commiserated with Luca over their weirdo roommates if I wasn’t right here.

  “Tera,” Stelly says softly, but then she hesitates and doesn’t say anything else.

  “Do you want to go ahead of me?” Josie asks, nodding to the registration table, where the woman sitting at the table has just raised her hand to beckon one of us.

  “Thank you,” I say, and I mean it for a lot more reasons, but Josie nods back as if it’s nothing.

  Maybe it is nothing to stand up for someone else when you know who you are and where you belong. As I walk across the sun-soaked cafeteria toward the tables, I promise myself that someday, I’m going to be that kind of person too.

  Chapter 7

  I sleep in fits and starts, worrying half the night. By the time the cool light of morning trickles through the window, I’m glad to see daylight. This is a new day. A new chance.

  Stelly brushes past me out of the bathroom without saying anything, but she looks better than she did when we met. She wears jeans and a sweater, with a long amethyst pendant swaying between her breasts. Her still damp hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Without the tears, she really is pretty. She has the same wide eyes, expressive mouth, and angular cheekbones as her brother Cax.

  As I’m brushing my teeth, my thoughts idly turn to Cax’s lips against mine, with a scandalized Stelly looking on. Would it piss her off? Upperclassmen ban, and Cax’s unnecessary arrogance, aside. Was he thinking about how he’d like to kiss me right before he warned me off? I raise my eyebrows at myself in the mirror. I’m not actually evil, despite what some people think.

  As I braid my thick, unruly dark blond hair, I give myself a little pep-talk about being on my best behavior. No antagonizing my new roommate. No kissing obnoxious upperclassmen. Breathe in good vibes and breathe out my anger at the past. Breathe in second chances, and breathe out the memories that haunt me.

  It doesn’t matter how many deep breaths I take. It’s the same Tera staring at me in the mirror, with wide blue eyes and a smattering of freckles across my long nose. A Donovan nose, my father called it when I was a kid who hadn’t quite grown into it yet. He’d told me that no one likes how they look when they’re eleven, that I’d grow into a beautiful woman. I can’t tell if I did or not, though.

  I stick my tongue out at myself and head out of the bathroom.

  Stelly stands in the doorway, about to close the door behind her, but she hesitates. “You coming to breakfast?”

  “Yes,” I say cautiously.

  She holds the door open for me.

  “Thanks.” But once I’ve closed the door behind me and locked it, I’m not sure whether I’m really supposed to walk with her down the stairs and into the cafeteria. I don’t want to open myself up to yet another fuck-you, or another bout of tears.

  “You coming?” she asks impatiently, looking back from the top of the stairs.

  Apparently, my non-committal, might-be-walking-with-you-or-I-might-not pace is not as smooth as I thought it was.

  “Yeah,” I say, speeding up. “Of course.”

  Together, we walk down the four flights of stairs. She sighs when we’re halfway down. “No freshman fifteen here. Our asses are going to be in great shape.”

  I glance over at her, but she’s staring ahead, bouncing down the stairs with her ponytail bobbing up and down. She’s pretending that it’s no big deal to make casual conversation with me, despite the flood of tears over having to sleep anywhere near me. I don’t think I can have a conversation about shapely asses with this girl.

  We reach the first floor and turn into the cafeteria. The smell hits me: fried bacon and eggs and the vanilla-sugar scent of pancakes. That smell motivates me to keep going in a room filled with dozens of tables where no one will want to sit with me.

  Stelly and I pick up plates and head down the long table that lines one side of the room. Flames flicker underneath ornate metal serving trays. As I scoop scrambled eggs onto my plate, I know that my father did the same thing when he was a student here. Out of these same bowls. Because tradition is everything.

  The thought makes me want to drop this fancy silver spoon into the breakfast meats and run, but instead, I finish serving myself and turn to face the room. It feels like a vast and faceless blur. And yet somehow, at the same time, I feel as if every eye is turned on me.

  “Here goes nothing.” Stelly walks over to a nearby table, her plate in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other—how did I miss the coffee? I need coffee to deal with today—and asks lightly, “Mind i
f we sit with you?”

  One of the guys at the table looks past Stelly to me, his eyes flinty, before he smiles at her. “We don’t mind if you sit with us, Stelly.”

  “Maybe next time.” She turns and heads toward an empty table by the windows.

  My hands are shaking when I set my plate down with a clunk against the darkly polished table. Some things you never get used to.

  Stelly’s eyes flicker toward me as if she notices, but she picks up her warm biscuit and butters it without comment. “What classes do you have today?”

  Okay, we’re doing this. We’re making small talk.

  “I’d have to look at my schedule,” I say. “I like to take things as they come.”

  She nods like I’ve just told her something about who I am, but I have no idea why the hell I said that.

  “They have some remedial classes,” she says. “FYI.”

  “Thanks,” I say tartly. Just making small talk.

  “It’s nothing personal,” she says. “You seem very bright. It’s just you haven’t been here. I’m betting you barely learned Calc in school, forget the basics of Dimensionality—”

  “I’ll get by.” I smile at her, even though I can’t possibly swallow another bite of eggs; my stomach is tight now. I don’t think I learned a thing while I while Earthside, except maybe how to survive. “It’s true. I am very bright.”

  Behind me, there’s a low whistle. Cax plunks his tray down and settles in beside me. He’s shaking his head, grinning a little. “And very modest too.”

  “I’m sure you’re modest,” I shoot back. Thinking about his don’t-fall-in-love-with-me speech makes my cheeks heat. “But since I’m a girl, I’m supposed to pretend I don’t have any pride?”

  Airren sits down beside Stelly. He bumps her shoulder with his. “Glad to see you guys having breakfast together.”

  “Take it easy.” Cax seems to take a clue from Airren, since he bumps gently into my shoulder. He smells good this morning, ridiculously good, like he’s fresh out of the shower, all soap and spice. “I’m just teasing.”