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“Alice told me to appreciate the small successes,” it slipped out without thinking, but it was a mistake. That was the last thing my mother wanted to hear.

“Alice is a Fire Quatura,” she hissed, stepping closer to the basin. “You don’t have that privilege!”

She pointed to the basin. “Now concentrate!”

I shook my head desperately. “I can't.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Good Lord, it can't be that hard...”

“I'm doing my best, Mother!” I blurted out impatiently, and a sudden noise sounded between us.

The ice began to crack.

Suddenly, shards flew through the hall.

My mother stumbled backward, fell to the floor, and raised her hand protectively with her head turned away.

I hastily stepped in front of her, feeling some of the shards dig into my skin, lightly scraping my bare forearms because I had rolled up the sleeves of my white shirt.

The next moment, Mother jumped up and was by my side within seconds.

“Do that again, and we'll both have a problem!”

Her eyes glowed gray.

“I have no control over it,” I whispered, and the realization of what had just happened hurt. I had almost hurt her, and, on top of that, was the disappointment she carried with her every day.

“Then finally gain some.”

It came out so cool and toneless that goosebumps rose on my skin.

Control. I need it, or I will forever be a walking disappointment to her.

Holding Pattern

Angus MacRae

Tuesday, September 30, 1997

Entry 9

Of all the literature students, Alice has chosen a Senseque as her new friend. It's strange to see her with the director's son, laughing as they come out of the lecture halls and then reluctantly saying goodbye to each other because they both have to go to other lectures.

I always try to convince myself that it has no future anyway, that they are just friends. But that look on her face, her smile, those divinely red cheeks as soon as he grins at her. And the fact that we are also just friends...

I don't like that it feels like he is taking her away from me. Everything she gives me.

On the one hand, I want her to be happy, to find a way to live her life the way she wants to. On the other hand, I don't want to lose her.

“You're staring at her,” Amanda said with that grin I'd missed so much since she had moved out.

“I'm worried,” I lied, because if there was one person I didn't have to worry about, it was Alice. I was used to her playing with fire.

“Believe me, I'm suspicious of this Senseque too.” I followed her gaze to the son of the strict university director. “But he seems like a good guy.”

A good guy. So was I. Or was I perhaps even more dangerous than a Senseque who could tear her to pieces?

“What if she dates him?”