“Yeah, right.” His words had taken on a hard edge that he sometimes exhibited when he was embarrassed. “You won’t find anyone as good as me. What did you call me, again? A hotter, younger Brad Pitt?”
I froze. Although my back faced him, I could picture the smarmy look on his face as he threw my words back at me.
“Not many people like an ice queen,” he continued, his voice morphing into a malicious whisper. “Or someone who needs to competeallthe time. You were lucky that I found you charming. I doubt anyone else—”
I yanked my wrist from his grasp as I spun around and thrust my hands forward. Purple magic flew from my palms, tossing Jackson through the air. He landed twenty feet away, flat on his back, and groaned.
Tears began to prick in my eyes, blurring my reasoning as well as my vision. I searched for something to say but a lump was rising in my throat and I didn’t want to risk releasing a sob. So I settled for flipping him the bird before marching across the academy lawn. As I strode toward my tower—my sanctuary—I was intensely aware of the dozens of voyeuristic eyes watching me every step of the way.
Chapter Two
Three days had passed since Jackson broke up with me, and despite my bravado and sass during the actual event, depression had finally settled in.
Like, hard.
“Here you go, love.” Miss Iris, the owner of Potions and Pastries Café and one of my favorite people in Wandstown, set a glass of champagne on my table.
I arched an eyebrow. Witches were more lax about alcohol than regular humans, and Wandstown residents were no exception, but I knew one witch who didn’t approve of underage drinking.
Miss Iris chuckled as she sat across from me and pushed her long brown hair back over her right shoulder. “I know your mother doesn’t appreciate a good glass of bubbly, but seeing as it’s your eighteenth birthday, I think you deserve to celebrate.” She extended her hand and laid it over mine. “Plus, sometimes bubbly soothes the heart.”
I sighed. “Am Ithatobvious?”
She pulled the flower-pattern curtains that hung in her window all the way to the side. The spring sunshine poured in, dappling her cheery café with light. Even though I felt glum, I had to admit that the ambiance lifted my spirits a bit.
“No, love. You’ve always been a stoic one, even when you were a wee thing. It’s hard to tell when you’re in pain,” Miss Iris answered. “But a new grad was in here a couple days ago yammering about your breakup. Frankly, I can’t believe that the boy had the balls to see it through just before your birthday!” She shook her head and tutted. “Some men are real pieces of work.Believeme, I would know, I’ve dated plenty of them.”
She paused, as if assessing what to say next, and then leaned across the small, circular table and patted my hand. “The next time that boy comes in, I’ll make sure he’s aware of how to treat a lady—or else.”
Miss Iris mimed cutting Jackson’s throat. The action was so out of character for the café owner—who had such an abhorrence to violence that she couldn’t even hurt spiders, which she despised—that I had to laugh.
Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “There’s the smile I wanted to see.”
I looked at the fluted glass. My mother would be pissed if she saw me drinking champagne. She didn’t even really approve of the bartending workshop put on by Professor Medulla every academic year. However, after all these years as Headmistress, she couldn’t deny it was useful for spies to know their drink, so she grudgingly allowed it.
I twirled the delicate stem of the glass between my fingers.What Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her.“Thanks, Miss Iris.”
She patted my shoulder. “It’ll be alright, love. There are many fish in the sea. No need to limit yourself to the boys at the academy. I made the mistake of falling for wannabe spiesfartoo often when my dear ole dad was the headmaster.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder daddykins didn’t expel half the initiates during my senior year of high school. To say I was not subtle with my flirting would be an understatement.” She gave me a sly smile.
“I heard he was majorly protective, just like Mother.”
Miss Iris nodded. “Your mother pales in comparison. My guess is that Daddy only put up with all the flirting because he knew so many hunky, bad boy shifters attended my high school. Heaven forbid his daughter fall for the one sect of magicals my father doesn’t particularly like—the old relic.”
I chuckled at the thought of a younger Miss Iris making her way through the students at Spellcasters. We’d both been raised at the academy, albeit decades apart. Still, between growing up at the academy and having prestigious parents in the espionage field, we shared many similar experiences. Although, I had to admit that dating around wasn’t really one I could relate to. While Miss Iris liked to serial date, that wasn’t my cup of tea. “I don’t think I have to worry about bad boys falling all over me. I’m far less charming than you.”
Miss Iris’ eyes crinkled at the corners. “Consider yourself lucky, love. And don’t worry about Jackson. Someone else will come around and make that boy look like a speck of dirt on your shoe.” She pursed her lips in an annoyed expression. “I don’t care if it is a tradition for the Grind and Crucible-year students to ignore the Culling-year until after Imbolc—that boy has got to be one of the stupidest ones alive. It’s a miracle that they admitted him to the academy.”
I snorted. “I second that.”
A table across the café called for Miss Iris. She stood and gave me one more consoling rub on the shoulder before scurrying off and seeing to them.
My eyes fell to the books I’d borrowed from the academy library. I’d spread them out in front of me, a decoy for what I’d really come to Potions and Pastries to do.
Which was sulk in peace.
As the headmistress’ daughter people at the academy always seemed to know too much of my business. While most of them wanted to help, I just wanted to be alone, and outside the family suite. After a few days of sequestering myself in there, I had needed to get out, and the café had been the most welcoming option.
I swirled my champagne as the questions I’d been asking myself for days began playing in my mind once more, like a broken record.
