Strange Aeons [Book 1]

16. An Irish, a Mexican and a Russian enter Peppino's [part III]

Academy was being the hell Logan had always wanted to save her from, and while soldiering through the endless hours on the desk she couldn't think about anything that wasn't the ritual they were going to try out that night. The teacher in front of her droned on and on, for what felt ages, not mere hours, about the joys and perils of Summon magic. She had scientifically stopped listening five minutes after the lesson started and had suddenly awakened by her daydreaming when she had heard the students around her stirring up from their desks. She shook her head.

«What's happening?» she asked Clara, her desk mate, an incredibly ugly teenager.

«Uh? The practice?» Clara looked at her with her beady, watery eyes, and Banshee felt the need to reassure her that a good heart was the most important thing in the world. If just Clara wasn't an insufferable smartass as well. «Were you sleeping?»

«Kinda.» no point in hiding. «Practice? I thought we were only going to do theory stuff in these endless classes.»

«The teacher sometimes let us pair up and work in class instead of waiting for someone to cause a diplomatic incident with the Undertide.» Clara shrugged and moved to reach Adam, the only people in the class less nice than her. For some reason, they always worked together.

Banshee whined. She had always hated group work. As she usually was the one paying less attention to anything, she was always not chosen and, thusly, ended up working with the teacher, or with the second-least good person in the room. Meaning a rain of bad marks all over.

This time, she chose to be pro-active. She moved towards Irissa, two desks away from her, and before she could join her posse, she put a hand on her desk.

«Please, pair up with me.» she asked. Plain and simple. Irissa's blue eyes rose to meet hers, with a scorching degree of suspicion.

«I have friends, you know?»

«I don't, that's why I'm asking you.» Banshee replied. «Please. I was not listening to a word the teacher said and so I will fail this horribly if you don't help me.»

«Why would I willingly pair up with someone who will basically let me do everything by myself?» the girl asked.

«Because you have the theory, but I have ten years of magic practice and rituals on my shoulders.» which wasn't technically a lie. «You help me with the theory, I'll lay down everything the proper way. I'm good at natural, you know.»

«So I'm told.» Irissa's close her eyes to a slit, trying to read the woman. But she was so transparent the girl couldn't see anything but actual, pristine panic. «You really care about your grades?»

«Hey, I have to pass this Academy thing! I'm not here for the kicks! I had a perfect life where I avoided passing through this nightmare altogether because I'm useless on books. Then, somehow they found out, not in small part due, I suspect, to the stunt at the Trial. So, yeah, I care about me grades! I don't want to be stuck in these lessons until the end o' time!» she said, maybe with a tad too much enthusiasm.

Irissa pondered, in silence. Looked back at her friend, who was clearly waiting for her. Then she sighed and shook her head, signaling her friend to find her second choice.

«Thank you.»

«Just try not to slow me down. My grades are already not good.» Irissa grumbled.

«Aye, I noticed.»

«You're not very soft, are you?» Irissa gleamed at her, while they started to take from the cabinets what it was needed for the little ritual the teacher wanted for them to perform

«I like to say things as they are. I wasn't judging. My grades are sinking by the minute. Let's hope this helps.» Banshee replied, laying down the ingredients and objects and frowning. Irissa took a second to take in her words before noticing her gaze.