Apprentices: Third Quarter

Shaken Up

Exam week couldn’t come at a worse time. Like all students aren’t tense enough already, the sky outside is pitch black, making us feel even more uneasy. Monday, first thing in the morning, a girl breaks down before our first test, literature and arts.

Basically, she screams at everyone that is close enough to listen, that she doesn’t understand why we have to take the exams, if we’re all going to die in here soon. What a wonderful start of the day, right?

They can’t calm her down, so they take her to the counselor and let others begin their exam week in peace. No, scratch that, nothing about that was peaceful. I share a look with Marcus, before noticing Katie nearby.

She’s sitting with Jake, but they’re both quiet. Does this mean that they managed to work things out after all? Or are they just staying together because they don’t have the guts to break their mate bond? I’m not sure how I feel, knowing that I’m the cause of that trouble.

Marcus’s eyes follow the direction of my gaze and he all but grabs me and spins me towards the direction of the classroom. I already mean to protest, but then I notice that our supervisors are here. Which means, we’re about to begin. I have to get to the front. Witches are being called in first.

The system at the Seminary is the worst during these kinds of events. Our teachers are usually very stern and unyielding, but when it comes to exam week, there’s a protocol. And they stick to it, even if the sky is falling on our heads. Well, we’re not very far from that now, are we?

We get called in by an alphabetical order. My surname begins with p, so I won’t be in there for a while. But Katie is amongst the first ones to get into the classroom, and she glances at me defeatedly on the way. I feel like someone just clenched my heart with full force as I see the look on her face.

Suddenly, Sheila appears by my side. “You seem to stir up drama everywhere you go. It’s ironic that you’re so bad at potion making,” she remarks in a teasing tone. I glare at her, even if I know I shouldn’t be giving her such happiness. She smirks.

“Did I ask you something?” I respond sharply, hoping that it’s enough to shut her up. But of course, this is Sheila we’re talking about. It seems like she forgot how hard I can yank at that hair of hers.

“You don’t even need to ask, I’ll gladly provide you with my opinion. You know what a generous soul I am,” she mocks kindness, placing a hand on her heart in a dramatic way. In reality, it just looks like she’s grabbing her boob.

I pretend to laugh, then make the smile fade from my face, as I say: “Don’t try to shake me up. You won’t succeed. I’m going to end you this exam week.” Her face darkens. I knew it. I knew this was her goal.

“I don’t think you will. I practically already have one foot in the door for the warrior witches program next year,” she remarks coldly, making me feel like the air just got knocked out of my lungs.

“Miss Norton, Mr. Parker, Miss Patel, Miss Pierce, Mr. Richardson, Mr. Ross and Miss Snyder, come in please,” the supervisor interrupts me before my brain is able to give the command to attack.

I move forward with my classmates, feeling like I’m in a state between living and dreaming. There’s no way Sheila’s telling the truth. I know she wanted to become a warrior witch too, but to be honest, I couldn’t see her in that role. Ever. Now? Now I know she wants it just as badly as I do.

I stare at her long black ponytail, swaying from one side to another like a horsetail as she walks in front of me. I grit my teeth together, overhearing where I’m supposed to stop and sit down, because I keep moving even as Sheila already sits down.

I’m just one seat away from her. Just one seat and I can do some serious damage. But in the next moment, I freeze as our literature teacher calls my name in a not very gentle way. “Miss Pierce! There have to be three empty seats between you and your classmate,” she informs me.

I nod, not saying a word as I force myself to get away from Sheila and sit down. I can see her watching me with a smirk on her face, while all I am able to think about is a way to wipe it right off.

It takes at least half an hour for the rest of our class and the werewolves to take their seats. f*****g Seminary and its system. As Marcus walks through the door, he’s amongst the last few groups to get called in. Our eyes lock and I know he can tell that I’m furious.

He sends me a reassuring gaze, trying to calm me down with it, but it’s not even nearly enough for making me forget about Sheila’s words. And to top it off, there are narrow windows on top of the classroom, making me stare straight into that blackness.

I wonder how Cyrus and the Elite are doing. I hope they’re making progress. Damn, I should be down here right now, instead of here! We all should! Maybe then we wouldn’t be staring at complete darkness whenever we looked out of the window anymore!

I’m so preoccupied with my thoughts, that I skip half of what the supervisors tell us. But it’s not like I don’t know the drill. No phones, if you cheat, you get thrown out without a second glance. You can only have one pen on your desk and nothing else. And you have … “…forty-five minutes. We shortened the time, based on a decade of students, trying to walk out of the classroom at least fifteen minutes before the time was up,” one of the teachers explains.

My mouth hangs open and quiet protests slowly arise in the form of murmurs. Are they insane? Those that were trying to leave first were usually the ones who didn’t study at all!

“Quiet! It’s the new rules format, end of discussion. We’ll give you the sheets now. You can only start writing when the clock turns nine. You won’t be able to open the sheet until the time comes. They’re enchanted, and we’ll know who tries to cheat,” the teacher continues, making the classroom quiet down.

This is going to be a disaster. I put my hands together in my lap, to prevent them from trembling, because I can already feel my magic starting to do something strange inside me. I can’t let it slip out of my control, I have to pull myself together.

“Are you feeling alright?” I suddenly hear someone ask, looking up to see one of the supervisors searching me with an inspecting gaze. I quickly nod, not wanting to miss this exam. If I do, I might as well kiss my exam week goodbye.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I tell the teacher, forcing myself to look normal. Or at least what I think makes me look normal. She doesn’t seem convinced.

“I don’t think you are. You look sick,” she insists, almost making me grab the damn sheet out of her hands.

“I said I’m fine,” I grit through my teeth, then feel my magic jump at the teacher, bending her to my will and make her understand, that I’m not sick. I widen my eyes in terror, as she smiles, puts the sheet in front of me and moves on.

“If you say so,” she tells me in a friendly tone, almost making my jaw drop. What the hell just happened?

I stare at her as she continues down the line, giving a sheet to Sheila, while I try to comprehend what I did. Oh s**t. I think I just used blood magic on a teacher. Does she know what I did to her? Can she figure it out? Can anyone else?!

Okay, Evelyn. You need to f*****g breathe. I take a deep breath in, then let it out. I repeat it probably for five minutes, until I hear someone starting to laugh hysterically somewhere in the back of the classroom. And soon, it seems like everyone is laughing.

I turn around, just to see one of the werewolves with a blue face. Literally blue. Like someone just splashed ink all over it. He looks confused as hell. As I turn back around, one of the supervisors in the front is already shaking her head at the boy. “I told you we’d know, if you tried to open the sheet before nine!”

But I don’t pay attention to her. I look at the other supervisor. The one that I forced into believing that I’m fine. She seems perfectly content and doesn’t have a clue that I did anything to her. I can’t tear my eyes off her.

Cyrus warned me about this. He warned me how dangerous blood magic is, if you cast it without an incantation. I can’t let this happen again. And I’m not going to worry my mentor with this right now. He has enough on his plate already.

“You can begin now,” the first supervisor says, and I hear the rustling of paper all around me, while I keep staring at that other teacher, trying to make sure that I didn’t harm her by using blood magic on her.

It takes me a moment to realize my behavior is even more suspicious this way, so I avert my gaze into the sheet in front of me and do as I was told. But as I open the paper and start reading the first question, I realize I have no idea what I’m reading.

Then the same happens with the second question and every next one that I read. Words dance in front of my eyes, and I can’t seem to make any sense of them. I feel like I’m suffocating!

I close my eyes and force myself to take a few deep breathes. Stop it, Evelyn, you got this. You studied for this damn test so much, that your eyes stinged and your brain hurt. You’re not going to give it all up now.

I look at the sheet again, deciding to start from the beginning. It’s a struggle, but I manage to dig through the questions, one by one, and give the answers that I remember. I know this is not it. I know that I have way more knowledge in my head than the one I’m showing right now, but it’s the best I can do.

Anxiety is pressing at my chest as I try to race with time, not wanting to turn in only a half-finished sheet. But as the time strikes nine forty-five, the sheet simply closes itself up. And I’m unable to open it again, or even lift it off the damn desk!

“Alright students, leave your sheets on the desk and leave the classroom, line by line. No scuffle, please! Show that you’re responsible young people. Thank you,” the supervisor tells us, and I sit in my place, waiting for the first lines to empty.

“Psst!” I hear someone hiss, but I don’t pay attention to them. Surely they can’t mean me. But as the sound repeats, I start turning my head, to find whoever is trying to call me.

To my disdain, it’s Sheila. She’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, putting me in an even worse mood. “What now, Pierce? I thought my words couldn’t shake you up,” she mocks me. My patience for this b***h flies through the roof, and I flip her off, then stand up, marching out of the classroom before anyone can stop me.

I can hear the supervisors calling after me, but I don’t care and I sure as hell don’t stop. I want to get away from her as soon as possible. Even if I know that I won’t get rid of her very soon. Our surnames put us sitting together in basically every exam we’re going to take this week.

I groan at the thought, almost finding myself hoping that the infected wards decide to kill us, before this week ends.