With confidence, Aric says, “It’s because going clockwise mirrors the sun’s path. It’ll help with growth and rising energy.”
The professor’s face breaks into a grin. “Brilliant, Mr. Vandermere. Well put.”
She continues instructing the class, but I’m not listening anymore. Because as soon as Aric answered the question correctly, he turned to lookright at me. Now he’s holding my gaze as he gives me a big smile. A few of the students seated at the desks between ours turn to see who he’s smiling at and seem confused when they realize it’s me—big orc runeball captains usually don’t smile at shy studious girls.
My face gets hot, and I look quickly down at my notebook, where I’ve been jotting down notes and doodling stars and moons in the margins.
I need some new rules, I think.
While Professor Sage demonstrates the leavening spell to the class, I reach into my bookbag and pull out my personal journal, the one I have our tutoring rules written in. After ensuring the student beside me isn’t looking—he seems to be fighting the urge to fall asleep—I add a new rule to my preexisting list.
Tutoring Guidelines and Rules
Meet twice a week: Tuesday afternoons and Saturday mornings
No off-topic discussions—classwork and party planning only
He smiles at everyone—don’t overanalyze it
“All right, students. Pair up and grab your ingredients. We’ll have just enough class time left to whip up these apple cakes. Your roommates will thank you.”
Pairing up is always my least favorite part of this class. I usually get stuck with the sleepyguy next to me, which means I also do most of the work—but I don’t mind that part quite so much. I just wish we could work alone. It’d be so much easier.
I close my private journal and slip it into my bookbag. I’m just flipping my bag closed when a shadow falls over me. Abigshadow. And it’s accompanied by the smell of woodsmoke and cedar.
Now I need to addthatto my list. I’ll add it after class.
I sit up straight, and Aric Vandermere is standing over me, wearing his trademark smile, the one that shows off his tusks.
“Wanna be my partner?” he asks.
For a moment, the world around me freezes. Aric wants to partner with...me? He usually works with the dark-haired fourth-year witch who sits beside him. But now he’s smiling at me, and she’s looking at us with a confused, maybe even hurt furrow in her brow.
Behind me, my tablemate lets out a snore, and it jolts me back to reality. I think I’d rather work with Aric than with someone who’s half asleep.
“S-sure,” I say, and I can’t help that another tingle of heat is creeping into my cheeks. Why is it that I’m always like this around Aric?
“Sweet. I’ll grab what we need. Can you grab the aprons? I’m an extra-large.”
I nod, then join the line of students waiting to grab aprons from where they hang on hooks at the back of the classroom.
By the time I’ve grabbed our aprons, Aric has already secured a cooking station for us, and he’s arranging the armfulof ingredients he procured: apples, flour, sugar, milk, butter, vanilla extract, and a bunch of spices. No leavening powder, since we’re using a spell for that.
Most of the other groups are having to make multiple trips, but with Aric’s huge arms and chest, he was able to carry everything over in one go.
That’s . . . helpful.
