Page 2 of A Drop of Anguish
And truthfully, they’re not wrong.
But that’s what I’mnotsupposed to be thinking about. I take in a deep breath.
When I’m brewing, my brain focuses on only the cauldron, books, and ingredients. They speak to me. Lull me into a quiet ease.
It’s addicting.
The tension in the hall dies down as the streaming smoke settles, and the chattering builds. Eventually, the bell rings to signal the next class, and the hall is filled with even more bodies. I stay, waiting for my best friends to join. They’ll want to see the chaos anyway.
Potions mishaps are exciting events, even in a magical school.
“Whose hair is on fire?” a tiny chirping voice singsongs. A purple pixie with black skin and two puffy pigtails drops onto my shoulder.
“No one,” I say with a chuckle.
Lola pouts.
“What happened?” Janet asks when she arrives moments later. She stares up at the white steam still settled like liquid on the ceiling of the hallway.
“Teacher set us up for failure, supposedly.” I shrug.
Janet’s smile is wide. “But you passed it, didn’t you?”
My lips twitch, but I manage to hold back the smile. “I don’t know.”
Lola nuzzles into my neck and whispers, “Yes, you do.”
Still, I don’t answer. We walk together toward our next set of classes. Lola has the farthest to travel, but she’s also the fastest of us three, so she generally chooses to take the chance to socialize between classes as much as she can.
Janet and Lola chatter about Marcus, Janet’s boyfriend. They were only talking before the break, but they became official during our time off.
He’s a mage in Major Hall, a year younger than us, and they’re sickeningly cute together.
“We went for a walk in the courtyard yesterday, and he picked me this daisy. It was the most amazing thing ever.”
I force a smile, even as my stomach sinks. “Did you keep it?” I ask cheerily.
“It’s sitting on my nightstand.” Her cheeks flush.
I press my lips together and try my absolute best not to show her my real emotions. I wish I still had the dark purple flower Jarron picked me not long ago. “You should press it. In a book maybe? Do you keep a journal?”
She nods.
I bite the inside of my lip and ignore the pit in my stomach. Jarron had my journal delivered to my room in Minor Hall sometime during the break. I guess he knew I’d be back here, even if he didn’t intend to return himself.
“You okay?” Janet says softly, eyes darting to the ground then up.
“Yep,” I say, trying for a cheery tone. She curls her arm in mine and forces me closer, so our sides touch.
“You can be honest, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” I say quietly, face falling. “I just, uh, I’d rather be distracted than talk through my feelings.”
She nods. “Yeah, I get that.”
“It’s just, too many things remind me of—things.” Journals and headmasters remind me of my dead sister. Boyfriends and flowers and chai lattes remind me of Jarron.
“You’ve had a rough couple months,” she says soothingly. “It’s okay to not be okay.”
