“You’re not,” Juniper says in my lap.
Alina’s gaze goes to Juniper, then back to me. I know she doesn’t believe me. But I also know that I don’t want to talk about it. These are my problems to deal with.
“I’m fine, really. Just a bit worried about midterms.”
That’s not totally a lie. Iamworried about midterms—but I’m also worried I might not even get to take them. Like the headmistress said, one more magical mishap and I could be gone from Coven Crest for good.
Alina’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. “Me too. Poppy and I are going to study tomorrow. You want to join us?”
No, Ireallydon’t want to spend my Sunday studying after spending half my Saturday doing ridiculous community service. But it’d probably be good for me. And studying with Poppy always makes a difference. She’s brilliant. Probably the most brilliant person I know.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
The stands erupt with cheers and boos. I steal a pecan from Juniper—she hogs all of them, I swear—and turn my gaze to the game.
Maeve’s stepbrother, Aric, is playing, and his team looks to be struggling to maintain control of the arcane sphere. The opposing team has impressive control of their magic, and it’s making it difficult for Aric’s team to take possession or score any points.
A witch with red hair—not unlike mine—blasts the arcane sphere through the fire rune, setting it alight. It glimmers orange and red, and there’s concern on the faces of some of the players.
The fire-covered sphere is always tricky for them to handle, as dealing with fire takes so much caution and control.
My stomach turns as the fire witch dances through her opponents, using her fire magic to guide the sphere almost seamlessly across the field. She and a warlock pass it back and forth, and another cheer goes up when she sends it smashing through Aric’s team’s goalposts in a crackle of flames.
Beside me, Maeve sighs. “If they lose, Aric is going to be such a pain.”
“Sore loser?” Poppy asks. She’s bundled in a sweater and has her hair in two short braids. Her cheeks are pink from the bite in the air.
Maeve scoffs. “To the extreme. And we’re supposed to hang out later. But I think he just wants help on his divination homework.” She rolls her storm-purple eyes. “He’s the third-year. Shouldn’t he be the one helping me?”
“Maybe Poppy could help,” Alina offers.
Poppy goes bright red. “I . . . I . . .”
Yeah, she’s not great with strangers. Especially big orcish ones.
While Maeve laughs and slings an arm around Poppy’s shoulders, I watch the fire witch down on the field. Her teammates are crowding around her, smiling and slapping her on the back. I don’t know who she is, so she’s probably an upperclassman. And looking at her, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
Jealousy. Anger. Disappointment.
Why can she control her magic but I’m absolutely terrible at it? I bet she’s never almost been expelled from the academy, and she mostcertainlywasn’t ever tasked with community service alongside the stoic minotaur.
In my lap, Juniper puts her paw on my hand. When I look down, she’s staring right up at me, little sugar crystals clinging to her whiskers.
“You’re doing great,” she says. “Don’t get discouraged. You’re going to figure this out—I don’t doubt you one bit.”
I offer her my finger, and she lets me stroke her head and under her chin.
“Thanks,” I whisper to her.
I know she’s trying to make me feel better, and my friends would all do the same if they understood how I’m feeling.
But no matter what anyone says, I know the truth.
I’m still a hazard. My magic is still out of control.
And I have no idea how I’m going to fix it.
Chapter 9
