What she said pulled at my heartstrings. She was sweet. And she cared, which was more than I could say about most people, other than my mother. But she didn’t know what I was up against. And what I’d done so far was nothing compared to what I was going to do next. I snorted. "Like I'd ever want to work for the Pinnacle anyway." That wasn’t a lie, not completely anyway.
"What—you want to work for the norms?" Tia shook her head and narrowed her brown eyes. Her eyeliner was so thick that when she did that, her eyes looked like black streaks, you almost couldn’t see the whites. Creepy.
“Yeah. Have my heart set on being an accountant,” I winked. I felt like ruffling her spikes but resisted.
She laughed. “Yeah, I always pegged you as a number cruncher,” she quipped, flipping off some nitwit first year dude who’d turned to gape at us. When he turned away, she looked back at me and asked, “Are you sure you want to go … there? Metamorphose?” She whispered the last word.
I leaned toward her and nodded. “Still think you can get your aunt to get me in?”
She inhaled and pressed her lips together. “I’ve been working on her. But this bullshit you keep pulling—”
“Makes me a perfect fit. I’m a tortured little rich girl who’s acting out and in need of rehabilitation; and mom can more than afford the tuition—”
Tia shook her head. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. Those kids have problems. Serious problems. Some of them are dangerous.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. We had been best friends since we were twelve. I’d originally been separated from her at fifteen, because I’d been sent to the most exclusive magical academy of them all—Niveus. I’d gradually made my way to Medeis. At first, it had been awesome, reconnecting with Tia. And I had to admit, she made for a great ally. Tia was one of those people who knew people. Car broke down? She had a second cousin. Diamond fell out of mom’s earring? She had an uncle. Her family was like this massive networking association almost by design— like her great-grandmother had been picking careers out for everyone for the past ninety-four years so that none of them had the same job and all of them could keep their cash in the family.
Tia had been more than excited to help me with part of my plan. I hadn’t told her all of it. Couldn’t tell her all of it. I wouldn’t tell anyone the entire plan, because it was crazy, because it was highly illegal, and because I didn’t need anyone trying to talk me out of it. That plan was my only hope.
“You aren’t backing out, are you?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but a little of it leaked through. My chest grew tight at the thought that I might get kicked out of here and not make it to my goal. I needed Tia, desperately, to get to the next stage. Her aunt worked at Academie Metamorphose, which was the prissy name for the school that everyone actually called the Magical Academy for Delinquents or MAD—the magical equivalent of a rehabilitative school for teens with attitude problems, legal problems, natural-born power problems. They called it rehab, but the people I’d spoken to who’d gone there called it a prison. And it was exactly where I needed to be.
Tia worried her lip-ring, and that set off all kinds of alarm bells inside my stomach.
Time to give her the lie again. “Grayson Mars is my destiny, T. I just know it.”
She rolled her eyes. “I never woulda’ pegged you for the lovesick kind.”
“Dude. Trust me. I know. But there was this party …” This completely fictional party, where I met him and we talked, and all our parental issues came spilling out like beautiful little fluttering fairies. And it was magical. Bullshit, bullshit. Bullshit bullshit bullshit. The lie spilled easily from my tongue. I’d practiced it enough that it was almost real in my head, like a false memory.
Tia’s eyes softened and I knew I had to press my point home.
I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Tia, I need to get in there. Now.” Matthew had been gone three years. And after I’d come up with my plan, it had taken me two and a half to get to this point. Who knew how long it would take to get through the rest of it? I needed into MAD. I needed in, like, yesterday, because every night my brain buzzed with anxiety. I was nearly eighteen and I hadn’t gotten halfway through my plan yet. I pulled her hand up and held it between us as nervous sweat started rolling down my back. “Please …”
“I’m not backing out.” She flicked me with her fingers in annoyance until I dropped her hand. She hated when I held her hands or exhibited any kind of PDA like side hugs. "But you and I both know that place is for crazies. You’re better than that. You could do better than anyone else in this entire fucking academy.”
I shoved the last of my books into my bag. There were no kitschy items in my locker as I’d never planned on staying at this prick school anyway. I slammed the locker closed. "Maybe I can't."
"That's a lie! You’re a fucking Darklight,” Tia seethed. “Like one fucking percent of the population—”
“My power has nothing to do with what I choose—” I started.
Tia cut me off. “Don’t give me that crap. Your magic tested off the charts. And you’ve got the fucking rarest strand. You know you get special treatment because of it. Your entire life has to do with your powers. Every natural-born magical’s life does. It’s how it is.”
Her words were a slap to the face. “It doesn’t have to be.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be naive. And don’t throw away your chance. I know you've been in a weird place since Matthew—”
"Don't." The single word warning was all she was gonna get. Tia was sweet underneath her tough-rocker girl, but she wouldn't understand the things going through my fucked-up head. I couldn't trust her with this. I couldn't trust anyone—because anyone else would think I was insane. I could only rely on myself. Because there was no one else in the world who could save Matthew. Even I didn't know if I could. But I'd fucking die trying.
Chapter 3
Before I headed to my dorm to grab my suitcase, I stopped off at the girls’ restroom. I yanked open the door and strode toward the obnoxiously pink stalls. I was pulling open a stall when I heard the telltale signs of two people making out. Gross. Seriously? That happened enough during school hours. But school was out. Find a car, go to the forest, shit—go do it on your parent’s bed for all I care, people, I thought. Just not the nasty-ass, germ-filled bathroom. You’d think rich bitches would have standards. But nope. Half of them were desperate to secure their posh lifestyle with rings during fifth year. Gag.
I bent down and looked along the tiled floor. The third stall was the one with two feet under it. I momentarily wished I had written a spell to stink people out without having to smell anything myself. Why hadn’t I done this? I made a mental note—that would probably be a good spell to have at Metamorphose when I needed to work on plans. I didn’t need everyone seeing my diagrams of the top-secret levels of the Pinnacle.
I was about to yell and tell this couple that they had an audience when the guy’s voice whined.