I released a shaky breath. ‘You too, Mom.’
When I finally composed myself enough to leave the room, Oz and Hawthorne exited at the same time. I shot them a tightsmile. The one Oz returned was equally grim, and Hawthorne didn’t even seem to see me. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but this time was different. My twin looked tired, Hawthorne even more so, and I realised with a jolt that he must have had a vision. Hawthorne kept it quiet, but Oz confided in me about how bad they got sometimes. Visions could take a toll on the one receiving them, and my brother had cried on my shoulder too many times to count out of fear for his best friend. Not that he would ever admit that. Not that he’d ever admit that.
There were a few different ways to receive a vision, but Hawthorne seemed to get the worst of them all. Instead of dreams or precognition, he was plagued by fits. The visions were more powerful, but there was always a balance when it came to magic. A give and a take. The stronger the magic, the larger the sacrifice needed to be. It was a fact that was drilled into us from an early age.
Hawthorne gave Oz a tired nod as he stalked off, eyes bloodshot and troubled. Oz stared after him, the lines between his brows deepening with his concern as he walked beside me.
‘He okay?’I asked him.
‘He will be. He had a vision, and it took a lot out of him.’
I hummed. ‘I bet. Anything noteworthy this time?’
‘He won’t say,’he admitted despondently, then, like a switch flipped in his brain, his entire demeanour shifted like none of this was happening. ‘What’s on the itinerary?’
I allowed him his moment of denial, but still narrowed my eyes at him. ‘You didn’t check?’
He shrugged. ‘Had more important things to worry about. I figured you would’ve checked for the both of us.’
I sighed. ‘How did you know to come out, then?’
‘I heard you leaving.’
I huffed a laugh beneath my breath. ‘You’re ridiculous. It’s lunchtime.’
‘Good,’he grinned, his aura brightening at the prospect of food. ‘I’m starving.’
As if on cue, both of our stomachs growled loudly in agreement.
We shared a look that said we were going to need to get something in our systems before dealing with a horde of middle schoolers, so we picked up the pace to grab a quick snack before calling the others down for lunch. After chomping through a sandwich and an apple each, we headed over to the intercom system to start the lunch hour and were quickly swarmed by preteens eager for food.
Oz and I stayed on the outskirts, leaning against opposite walls as we watched over the students. There was, of course, lots of gossip about what was happening outside and why they were all on lockdown, but it was more excitable than anxious. Youthful ignorance provided a sense of wonder whenever there was an unplanned change in routine, and I hoped they didn’t lose that too soon. Worrying was for the grown-ups, after all. At least, that’s what my mother always said.
We weren’t familiar with all of the kids, just the ones we taught, but those who knew us stopped to say hello and, naturally, bombard us with questions. A few of the ones who didn’t know us plucked up enough courage to do the same, but most of them simply gawked at us as if we were the real spectacle here. Many of the girls approached Oz before being sent my way, their hair-twirling and eyelash-batting a blatant display that had me holding in my laughter.
‘Maybe in ten years,’I teased him when he found himself surrounded by a gaggle of giggling teenyboppers.
He glared at me through squinty eyes, thoroughly unimpressed. All it did was add to my amusement, and I shot him a wink.
‘Oh…gross!’I heard a girl nearby exclaim in a stage whisper to her friends. ‘Miss Olwyn and Mister Drudner are like, totally screwing. She justwinkedat him. Like, whodoesthat?’
The speaker was a girl I’d had in my classes the previous semester. Harper James. She was the stereotypical ‘popular’ kid that everyone aspired to either be or be friends with. It seemed so strange when I’d long since grown out of that phase. I no longer cared what others thought of me, and I’d stopped holding space for fake friends. I was simply kind to everyone because I saw no need to be mean. Gossiping and tearing people down did nothing but cause harm to all parties involved, and I’d had to learn that lesson the hard way after being bullied for most of my youth. It had ended when I finally arrived at Aurora Academy. Surrounded by my own kind, I was eager to fit in and had been the ‘popular’ girl’s loyal follower. Oz had snapped me out of that phase pretty quickly, thank the gods, especially when she’d turned her harsh words and cruel actions on him. I’d ditched her and never looked back. I didn’t miss her at all once she graduated and didn’t bother to stay on for a graduate degree. Good riddance.
Plus, killing with kindness was far more rewarding. My happiness and positivity seemed to piss people off when they were looking to get a rise out of me, so that’s what I kept doing. It was probably petty, but bullies were only bullies as long as they affected you, and I simply didn’t let them affect me.
Well… mostly. Some topics were still a work in progress.
Unfortunately for me, Oz was the complete opposite. I was rarely bothered by the harmless gossip, but it wasn’t the first time one of our students had made assumptions about our relationship, and he was vehement about squashing any rumour that could come from it. And with good reason. He and I knew the nature of our relationship, but no one else did.
After a while, though, it got a little insulting. I was a total catch, gods dammit.
Thankfully, Oz didn’t hear her remark, so I let it slide, hoping it would remain unnoticed.
Fortunately for us, it was a Saturday, so we didn’t need to worry about classes, and everyone dispersed once the lunch hour was over to go their separate ways. Some went back to their rooms to either study or relax, while others filed into the rec rooms to socialise. While most were good kids, the staff weren’t naïve enough to believe all of them would follow the rules, so a ward had been placed around the building to prevent any wannabe rebels from sneaking out. It allowed us to keep track of everyone when we needed to take a headcount at the end of the day.
Oz and I followed a group of boys back to the dorms, and he took an inappropriate amount of glee from how uncomfortable our presence made them. It trickled down our newfound bond every time they kept glancing over their shoulders, or they picked up their pace, their movements jerky and suspicious. While my brother was enjoying silently tormenting children, I made a mental note to check on them later. They were definitely up to something.
When we reached our rooms, I followed Oz into his to show him how to connect his phone to the dorm’s security system with the code we’d been provided on the instruction sheet. It allowed us to keep an eye on what was going on outside while we set up a study session for our secret project. He pulled out the Old Fae tomes and our research notes, and we got to work deciphering the dead language.
