Davie
Fuck.
My.
Life.
I raised my hand, but Professor Markston walked away. I looked at the sticky note again, the name of my project partner written in Markston’s jagged handwriting. No motherfucking way was I going to be paired with Isaiah J. Bullshit Lewis on a class project. No. Goddamned. Way. “Professor Markston?”
She sighed, but turned, pushing her curly, dark hair out of her face. “Yes, Davie?”
“Can you double check my partner?”
“No, Davie,” she said. “I don’t need to check it.” She adjusted her gauzy shawl before dropping little squares of pink paper in front of Luna Garcia and Madeline Murphy. The two looked at each other and smiled; at least someone was happy with their assignment.
Without taking my eyes off Markston, I pulled my tarot cards from my bag. I shuffled, still not looking. This was where you were supposed to ask a question, but the only words my mind provided were what the fuck? They seemed appropriate enough, so I went with it.
The card I pulled depicted a sneaky-looking little guy, running off with a handful of swords he’d obviously stolen. The Seven of Swords: lies, trickery, deceit.
As she handed one last slip of paper to Zach Foster, I looked at my own sticky note again, then across the room. Isaiah sat near the window, his black hair pulled up into a knot at the top of his head, like he thought he was cute.
He turned toward me, the sun reflecting in his light brown eyes. I faced forward, showing him I was the better student. I was paying attention to the lecture, not to his stupid ass.
“You each have the name of the partner you’ll be working with for this unit,” Markston said. “We’re working on circle theory for the next three weeks, and your project will be casting a circle with your partner.”
She paused for the expected murmurs. “Yes,” she said, smiling. “I know you’ve all cast plenty of circles before.” We were seven weeks into the semester, and even though the class was called Beginning Witchcraft, it wasn’t an introductory level course. Actual Witchcraft class had several prerequisites, including at least one basic magick class. Not to mention most of us in the witchcraft track had been recruited because we were already practicing Wicca or some other form of witchcraft before being recruited by Olive Tree Academy for showing unusual talent.
“But,” Markston continued. “What we’re going to be covering in this unit will go deeper than most of you have gone before in the casting or laying of circles. We’re going to break out of our comfort zones, and look at circles from multiple traditions and disciplines. For example, Logan.”
Logan Day sat up straight in his seat, alarmed to have been called out. “Can you tell the class the term used in American Traditional Witchcraft instead of circle?”
Logan relaxed again. He was a trad witch; she wasn’t asking difficult questions yet. “The compass round,” he said.
Markston nodded. “Different terminology, different method, same basic purpose and result. Yes, Sylvan?”
I turned to see Sylvan Jeffries putting her hand back down. “All the same purpose? I thought Ceremonial Magick circles were more of a protective barrier than other types?”
Markston considered her answer for a moment. “Certain types of magick sometimes involve potentially dangerous entities and, in those cases, the circle can act as a protective barrier. However, the most benign, even benevolent, workings, such as a Wiccan religious ritual, can attract such entities. It’s true a Wiccan-style circle is designed more to contain energy than to be a barrier, but it’s a blurry line. There are protective elements in a Wiccan circle, and there are containment elements to a Ceremonial circle. Examining similarities, differences, and distinctions like this are precisely the focus of this unit. Excellent question.”
Markston continued, describing the basic elements of a general magick circle. I’d read the chapter multiple times already, so there wasn’t any new information in this initial lecture. That would change next class, though; Markston always had insight beyond what the textbook provided. She was by far my favorite professor at OTA.
“You all have your partners for the unit project,” Markston said, shifting to her wrap-up tone. Now it’s time for the project itself. I’m going to come around and give each pair a set of instructions for a very specific circle or compass. For simplicity’s sake, we’ll be calling them all ‘circles’ in general discussion. Each circle is different, and I’ve tried to make sure each is from a tradition or style different than the pair’s most familiar method. I’m going to ask you not to discuss the project outside your partner pairs. We have a wide range of backgrounds in this class, and I don’t want you drawing on one another’s experience. Figure out your instructions, do whatever research you need to do, and then practice, practice, practice. At the end of the unit, I’ll be getting together with each pair individually and watching as you create your circle. This project will be fifteen percent of your final grade.
“Next class, we’ll be talking about some of the ways you can boost your circle’s strength and efficacy. If you haven’t already, be sure you’ve read the section on circle enhancement starting on page eighty-four. Before we go today, here are your project assignments.”
The many rings and bracelets she wore sparkled in the sunlight from the classroom’s one window as she opened a file folder on her desk. She picked up a thick stack of stapled packets of paper, each about ten pages.
She handed a single set of pages to Madeline and Luna. She handed a set to Logan, but walked past Sylvan. I’d seen Logan and Sylvan look at each other when the sticky notes went around, and assumed they’d been partnered; she was only giving each pair one set of instructions. It wouldn’t stop us from making copies later, but it meant we’d have to talk before we’d had any time to go over the pages.
Or one of us would, anyway. If she was only going to give the instructions to one person, I needed it to be me. “Professor Markston?” I called out, raising my hand. I had no clue what I was going to ask; I just wanted to get her by my desk before Isaiah’s.
“Yes, Davie?”
“I have a question about the circle enhancement chapter. I read it last week.” Always good to start right out reminding her why I’m top of the class.
“Sure,” she said. “What’s your question?”
“I kind of need to show you,” I said, improvising. “It’s about an illustration.”
She smiled and headed my way. I scanned through the pages, hoping one of the pictures would lend itself to a question.
“The crystal in this photo,” I said, pointing to a small image of a cloudy white crystal with black flecks. “Is this tourmilated quartz?”
I relaxed when Markston smiled. “Yes,” she said, looking at the picture with me. “Tourmilated quartz can be a great booster to a circle’s strength. The quartz increases the energy raised, while the tourmaline inclusions help to ground the working, lending solidity to the whole. Good catch, Davie.”
“Thanks,” I said. I started to lift my arm, hoping to be handed a set of instructions. Instead, I found myself working to keep the irritation off my face as she headed toward Zach Foster instead. Zach sat next to Isaiah; if our instructions were next, she’d give them to him for sure.
Which she did, goddammit.
I held my tongue and refused to even look in Isaiah’s direction. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me watch him go through the instructions before me. As soon as Markston dismissed the class, I headed for her lectern.
“Professor Markston,” I said.
“Yes, Davie?” She smiled, looking up from a notebook and laying down her pen.
I took a breath. I hated to sound whiny, and this was going to sound whiny, but I had to try. “Are you sure about the project pairings?”
She gave me a small smile. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy,” she said. “But yes, I’m sure. The pairings aren’t random. Where I could, I’ve matched people with similar experience and backgrounds. You and Isaiah may not see eye to eye on much but, I hate to tell you, you have a lot in common. And, I admit, I had ulterior motives in your case.”
I felt my eyebrow go up of its own volition. “Ulterior motives?”
Her smile became a smirk. “Yes. While the two of you are the best students in my class, the one thing you both struggle with is teamwork. You always need to be the best and sometimes, in magick, cooperation is more important than outdoing everyone else.”
“But if we’re working together, then I can’t beat him for—” I stopped as soon as I heard it.
She smiled, but didn’t rub it in any further. “How about this,” she said. “If you can’t bring yourselves to work together without competing, maybe make it a competition to see who can be the most cooperative.”
I let the look on my face tell her what I thought of that idea.
“See you on Tuesday, Davie.” She said it sweetly, but I was good and dismissed.
Just… fuck.
Isaiah
I stood in the kitchenette of the Earth House common room, sipping a hard lemonade, hoping to make it last for the next few hours. My roommate, Cabot, had been released from the Infirmary the day before, and this was his welcome back party. I didn’t know everything that had happened but, the way I understood it, one of the professors, Gideon West, had snapped and gone full supervillain. He’d been trying to steal something from the Library, and had caused all sorts of destruction in the process. In the end, he’d shapeshifted into a griffin, something I hadn’t even known was possible, let alone known West could do. Before he flew away, he’d slashed Cabot with his talons, nearly killing him.
Whatever they’d done in the Infirmary, Cabot had healed fast. I wasn’t the only one who thought he was up and about early; his girlfriend, Sofia, sat beside him on the dark orange sofa like his personal bodyguard. Her best friend, Daniel, sat on her other side looking around like he expected to be attacked at any minute.
There were four dorms for the Magickal Arts-Psychic Arts department, or MAPA, one named for each of the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water. The four buildings were arranged in a cluster around a square patio in the middle. Next door, a second set of four dorms, the buildings taller but otherwise the same, housed students from the Academic department.
The common room in each dorm took up about half of the first floor of the building, divided into several smaller areas of grouped furniture. Our common room had six such groups of varying size, the sofas and chairs of each a different color. It also had a kitchenette, an area for board games and the like, and a bookshelf. Since we were Earth House, the furniture colors were all shades of green, brown, or gold. The furniture in Fire House was shades of red, orange, and yellow. Water house had shades of blue and green, while the furniture in Air House was a mix of white and pastels.
Sofia had said the party would be just Cabot’s closest friends, most of us second year students and residents of Earth House. The plan had been to stay confined to the orange furniture cluster, which included two sofas, an ottoman, a coffee table, and a television.
It seemed word had spread, though; the party had spilled out across the light brown and leaf green areas as well. Jackson Flowers, a surly, arrogant third year, sat drinking a beer in the leaf green section with Cabot’s best friend, Gillian Foster. I saw Eddie Strathmann from my Spiritual Studies class come in for a while, and even Kendra Newton from Fire House breezed in and out at one point.
“Did you bring the instructions?” a voice asked from behind me.
I took a deep breath and let it back out before turning to deal with Davie. “No, Davie, I did not bring homework to a party.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not fair you’ve seen them and I haven’t.”
True enough, but no way was I admitting it. “They’re in my room. You can see them later. We need to talk about how we’re approaching the project anyway.”
“I talked to Markston about giving us different partners,” Davie blurted out. Leave it to her to go straight to the teacher and ask for special treatment.
“Did it work?” It was a ridiculous thing to even ask, but I still found myself hoping.
“If it had, would I be talking to you at a party?”
That might have stung, had I cared one iota for what Davie Melon thought of me. Instead, I rolled my eyes and took another sip of lemonade. “Okay, well, I don’t have the instructions with me, and no, I won’t go get them for you right now.” I figured I’d get that out of the way before the spoiled diva asked. “According to you, we’re stuck with each other, so we can get together tomorrow to talk about it. What do you have after Meditation class tomorrow morning?”
Friday was one of the days where I was blessedly free from Davie for the most part. I had Spiritual Studies first thing, followed by Meditation, then I was done for the day. Tuesdays and Thursdays were my class-heavy days, and Davie was in every single class with me. Now I was having to spend extra time around her on a Friday. Thanks, Professor Markston.
“Nothing until Magickal Healing at five,” she said. “And I do want to see those instructions. But we should ask again about new partners. If we go together, she might see the sense in reassigning us.”
“Davie, she’s not going to give us new partners. If I agree with you on anything, it’s this, but you could tell from the way she talked about the pairings she put us together on purpose. We’re not going to convince her otherwise. What did she say when you asked?”
“She suggested since we like to compete with each other, we should compete for who can be the most cooperative.” She rolled her eyes.
I was tempted to roll mine, too. Markston was a good teacher, and by all evidence a powerful witch, but she could be way too nice. “And you don’t think, maybe, she’d see us going to her as a united front as a sign we were learning to work together?”
“I— oh. Well, fuck.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
“Then I want to see the instructions right now,” she said.
“Davie, we’re at a party. We’re supposed to be welcoming Cabot back from the Infirmary, not doing homework.”
“You’re his roommate. He’s been back since yesterday. You don’t need to welcome him back now.”
I didn’t know where Davie had learned her social interactions. Maybe she’d been raised by wolves. Or a less social animal. Snakes, maybe. I didn’t say anything, I just walked away from her.
She followed. She continued to insist on seeing the project instructions, and she did sound like a snake, hissing along behind me. After I moved position three times, including an attempt to go over and talk to Cabot, I gave up. “If I show you the instructions, will you leave me alone?” I asked at last.
“Are you going to?”
I sighed. “Come on.”
We got to my room, where the sheaf of stapled pages was lying on my desk. “They’re not in a folder,” she said.
“And?”
“You put them in a folder when we left class. You’ve had them out, looking at them. Without me.”
Damn right, I had.
“This is what I mean. You’re going to be ahead of me. You’ve already had them all day. I should get them tonight.”
“Oh, hell no. I had them with me, but I was in class, then at dinner, then the party. If I let you take them now, I’ll never see them again.” I picked up the pages and headed out the door, trusting she’d stick to me like a cat following the scent of tuna.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
“We’re going to the Library to make you a copy of your own.”
And with that, I’d found the magick words to shut Davie up. For a while, anyway.
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