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He rubs his hands up and down my back, rumpling the Bevington Swingers sweatshirt I’ve stolen from Charlie. “I promise you, as someone who has gotten plenty of C minuses, it’s not that bad. You can pull it up to a solid B with an A plus on the final, which we all know you’re going to get. Stop stressing.”
“It’sGreenwitchery. I’m an Earth-Witch. I should be getting an A with both eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. I just—it’s all these Yank plants and their uses and I don’t know any of them and the Wicked Witch of the Westhatesme!”
Gabe chuckles; he rubs my back some more. “No one hates you.”
“Loyal hates me.”
“Okay,” Gabe concedes. “But you did turn his million-dollar car into a slug. Your Greenwitchery prof doesn’t hate you. Just ask her for some extra credit to make up for missing her exam. You know what? I bet she’d give you extra credit for bringing the wild magic back.”
“If we can.” I cuddle in and enjoy being held as my academic panic recedes a little.
“We will,” Gabe says, with a certainty I’m not used to hearing from my shy boy. But maybe I need to stop thinking about him that way. He’s doing everything he can to step up. I need to recognize that.
“Other than your scholastic angst, how are you, baby girl?”
“Good,” I tell him, which is what I’ve been telling the boys since last night when I passed out with my face in Darwin’s lap. The combination of my orgasm, and the lack of air, and Darwin doing magic on me took me down harder than a sap to the back of the head. It evidently panicked the boys a bit, but I slept through it and woke up without even a hangover.
The only thing that’s bothering me today—other than the horror of that grade—is my reflection in mirrors and windows. Darwin grew my hair back while I was giving him what he termed “highly memorable head.” By which he’d better be praising my BJ skills and not the freak-out he had over me passing out with his knob down my gullet.
Anyway.
Whether it’s something weird about his magic or just damage to my hair follicles from his stupid Empyrean spirit trying to kill me, instead of my curls growing back, my hair’s a straight, black sheet to my shoulders. My girls back home will be raging that I don’t have to use straighteners anymore, but I liked my curls and I can’t get over how different I look without them.
I shift back in Gabe’s arms and look up into his deep blue eyes. “Do you like my hair?”
He barks out a laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
“It’s different.”
He feathers his fingers through it. “I like it. Do you still want purple streaks?”
I nod.
“We’ll do that this weekend, okay? And maybe take a field trip to the unicorn pool to see if we can find a girlfriend for Hog?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I think he’s ready to breed.”
“And by ready, you mean ...”
Gabe sniggers.
“Gross, Gabe.”
He shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Shopping for the mud bat’s girlfriend seems like a boy-bonding thing. No girls required.”
“Mmm, female bog fae are extremely shy. I think it would help if you went along. Your pheromones might put them at ease.”
I can see I’m not getting out of the Hog’s Girlfriend Hunt. “Oookay.”
Gabe pokes me in the ribs. “You can stop making it sound like such a chore. You know I’ll make it worth your while.”
My ovaries perk up. Yes, the boys gave me a mind-melting orgasm last night. But I’m still right salty about the No D for Teddy Society. “I’ll need specifics about the incentives—”
He tickles me until I squeal. I half-expect Miss Moss to open the door and yell at us. She doesn’t, and as usual, there’s no one else in the reading room, which I’ve learned is because the upperclass TAs hang out together in the Ottley, a chrome and glass monstrosity on the other end of campus. Their loss. The Bladelaw’s the best library anywhere and I’ll die on that hill. As I’m panting and starting to retaliate, the door does open.
