Page 18 of An Arcane Education
“What about the other one, Dr. Vale?”
“Never had him before, but I’ve heard of him. He started teaching here last year. Strict, take-no-shit kind of guy. I’m not sure what the workload is like, though.” He hands the schedule back to me.
“Let’s hope I don’t fail miserably at all the magical stuff.” My half-hearted joke falls flat.
“Honestly, don’t worry too much. It’ll probably be hard at first, but you’ll catch up, and most people are pretty understanding. I didn’t know I had magic until I was seventeen, which is how my brother also discovered he had magic. We were adopted as babies, so our parents still have no clue. I assume your family also doesn’t know, given the circumstances?”
“That would be correct. How did you end up here, then?”
“Same as you, probably. The board has some sort of system that monitors for accidental magic manifestations that are strong enough to be anomalies. One day, my brother and I got into an argument with my dad abouthim wanting us to stay there in Iowa and work on the farm, while we wanted to go off to college. I ended up storming out of the house, and when my dad tried to follow me, I just got so angry. All I remember thinking was that I wish he’d leave me alone. Then, before I knew what was happening, rows of corn stalks just popped up from the ground between us like… well, like magic,” he laughs. “We were both shocked, but somehow I knew I was the one who had made it happen. Got a call that night from the academy, and I probably wouldn’t have believed them except for the fact that they said they’d erased the event from my father’s memory, and sure enough, he had no clue what I was talking about when I mentioned it.”
“That’s so crazy.”
“Yeah, nothing more Iowan than discovering you have magical powers via corn,” he laughs. “How’d it happen for you?”
My stomach twists with the memory, the one I’ve almost been able to forget over the last couple days. “Something similar,” I answer vaguely, “but with tree roots instead of corn.”
“Nice. After I told my brother what had happened, he didn’t believe me, so he and I went outside the next day and tried to make something happen again. I was able to make the corn grow again—though it was totally screwed up—but it took a while for my brother to do something. He couldn’t make anything grow, but he was able to move things. Lifted one of the chickens right off the ground with only his mind.” AJ chuckles again.
“So your brother attends here too?”
“Yeah. He’s a Materialist, though.”
I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I don’t want to look even more ignorant than I already do, so I don’t ask. I’m sure I’ll figure it out soon enough.
The phone on the desk rings, startling me as it interrupts the moment.
AJ answers it. “Arcadia Academy library, this is AJ.” He’s silent for a moment as he listens to the person on the other end of the line, then pulls out a notebook and pen. “Yeah, I can definitely help with that.” Looking up at me with an apologetic expression, he mouths the wordsorry.
Taking that as my cue to leave, I smile and give him a small wave as I head back to the staircase.
I meander through each of the levels for a long while, reading the spines of books and noting what sections are where for the future. I walk out of the library an hour later feeling considerably more positive than when I’d walked in. I can already tell that AJ and I will be friends. His lighthearted attitude, sense of humor, charisma, and openness are exactly what I need to balance out my constant underlying worry and lack of socialization skills.
It’s frustrating that cell phones are useless here, because I would have loved to get his number just to have someone to chat with when I’m stuck in my room with a roommate who hates me. But at least everyone here is in the same boat as me, forced to socialize in person rather than over a screen.
I smile to myself as I meander through campus and replay the interaction with AJ in my head, knowing that now, I’ll at least have one friend to get me through the week.
Maybe even two, if the man from the greenhouse—Alaric—is in any of my classes. He and AJ couldn’t be more opposite, but I can’t stop thinking about my interactions with either. And now, with the possibility of actual friendship (as opposed to total ostracization) on the horizon, the thrill of the coming week hits me with full force.
This is a chance at a new life for me, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make the most of it.
CHAPTER 8
The rest of the weekend unfolds in the controlled chaos of student arrivals, and I spend most of my time avoiding Max, eating three meals a day in the dining hall, and meandering around campus. I don’t run into Alaric at all after that first night in the greenhouse, though I do catch AJ in the dining hall one afternoon. We have lunch together, and he tells me about all of the preparation and organization they’re doing at the library, and I tell him about my less-than-ideal roommate situation.
When I mention that Max is a vampire, AJ’s face pales. “Seriously?”
I stab a piece of grilled chicken with my fork. “Yeah? Isn’t that a normal thing with people who know about magic?”
“Normalisn’t the word I’d use. We all know they exist, but they usually keep to themselves. The vampires have their own school somewhere near Japan called Avalon Academy.”
I make a mental note to research more about vampires when I have time.
Before I know it, it’s Sunday evening, and I’m moving with a throng of students toward the massive auditorium on the western side of campus. Tonight is orientation for all new students, both freshmen and transfers.
We all filter in, filling the fold-down theater-style seats, and excited chatter fills the semi-circular seating area, creating a collective low hum that echoes in the vast space. Seven banners hang from the high ceiling above the stage, each bearing the same emblems as the stained glass windows from the castle.
As I look around, I note the variations in the student body. A part of me had worried that I’d be surrounded by hundreds—if not thousands—of eighteen-year-olds fresh from high school. And while that demographic seems to make up a significant portion of the attendees, I note dozens of people who are in their twenties or thirties, and one woman who looks to be in her fifties. She could be staff, but from the apprehension and anxiety in her expression along with the backpack slung over her shoulders, I suspect she’s a student—maybe someone returning years after her undergrad career to get her master’s.
