Deviant Academy

Tourney Class

Will’s POV

When I walk into tourney class the next morning, I’m sweating bullets, shaking, and questioning whether I might have developed asthma in the past twenty-four hours.

In case you haven’t figured this out yet, I’m not exactly heavily experienced with women.

I do it, though. Something about my conversation with Dash gave me courage. It’s the fact that he felt sincere, I think—like he actually wanted to have a real f*****g conversation with me, unlike all the other fake, facey assholes out there.

He gave me enough confidence to set out on this suicide mission.

Tourney class, if you were wondering, is basically the class where we get together and practice our abilities on each other. Most days are practice for the “main event,” which happens at the end of each semester—where all the students fight for the gold in a big, Academy-wide tourney. On the practice days, Seth just pairs us up, two against two, and critiques us as we fight each other.

Yeah, yeah—it’s a little violent. We go easy on each other, though. Usually.

Tourney class is held in a relatively normal classroom about three times larger than average, though the official, school-wide tournaments are held in an outdoor stadium a few blocks away from the main Academy campus. I spot a handful of students when I arrive, along with Seth, the tourney teacher. I recognize the look on his face from the way he used to eye Rachel Rosario. When I follow his gaze, I find exactly who I was looking for: Harley and Payton.

Poor Harley, I can’t help but think as I start to edge my way over to them. Seth has a very creepy side; I hope he doesn’t take it too far with her.

I stop a few feet away from them, hovering awkwardly on the side lines as I consider my next move. It’s weirder not to say anything, right? But if I introduce myself to Harley, will Payton get the wrong idea and assume I’m as in love with Harley as the rest of the student body seems to be?

I feel Payton’s gaze on me and realize I need to do something, and fast.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly, sticking a hand out in front of her. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually met before. I’m Will Tinsdale.”

She looks amused—which, frankly, is an adorable expression on her. “I’ve been going to this school for two years, Will. I know who you are.”

I’m not sure whether I should feel more flattered or embarrassed. “Right—sorry. I know who you are, too. Payton.”

Her smile fades slightly, but she doesn’t look pissed; if anything, she looks curious.

“I’m Harley,” says Harley after Payton and I stare at each other for the most glorious two seconds of my life. “Harley—”

“—Harris,” Seth finishes for her, stepping over to our little circle. “Glad to see you in class, Harley. How are you feeling?”

I break eye contact with Payton long enough to glance at Seth, who’s nearly drooling all over poor Harley. She doesn’t exactly look like she minds, though it’s hard to tell what she’s thinking. “Fine, thanks.”

He reaches out to give her shoulder a squeeze. She jumps a little, but doesn’t stop him. “Glad to hear it. I think I’m going to pair you with myself today—just to make sure you get off on the right foot here.” He glances at Payton and me for the first time, nodding briefly. “You two will be partners, then. Go ahead and get started.”

Holy s**t, I can’t help but think. It actually worked.

Mainly because Seth’s the biggest creep in the world, but it still worked.

“Sorry,” I say awkwardly to Payton as Seth’s hand sinks deeper into Harley’s arm and he drags her away from us. “Didn’t mean to take you away from your friend.”

She glances at Seth, looking about as disgusted as I feel. “It’s okay. He would have forced a partnership with her whether you were here or not.”

I blink, surprised by her awareness of the situation; usually the girls are too smitten with Seth’s good looks to notice his creepiness. “You’re suggesting he has… ulterior motives with her?”

Ulterior motives? What am I, eighty years old?

“Honestly?” she asks, reaching out to gently push me a few steps further away from them to be sure she’s out of earshot. I melt at her touch, knowing perfectly well what a p***y that makes me. “I’m an Empath, Will—reading desires is my specialty. And I get nothing but horndog from him when it comes to her.”

Well, s**t.

I knew she was a Psychic; we all learn about each other’s abilities pretty quickly here at the Academy. But an Empath? Specific to reading people’s desires?

She must know about my crush on her. Right?

Given that I can't exactly ask her that, I ask her the next-best thing. “Did you sense it before? When he was with Rachel?”

She blinks. “What do you mean, with Rachel? He actually had an affair with a student?”

She really doesn’t know that? I thought everyone did. “Well… yeah.”

“But that’s… I mean… did she tell anyone? Report him? Is it over now?”

“I don’t think she told anyone. Not from the faculty, anyway. Think it ended pretty mutually.”

“Mutually? He’s a teacher, Will. She’s his student.”

Do we go to the same Academy? Is she really not aware that certain things just... fly here? “I mean… I guess. But she was of age, and it was consensual. And she’s not exactly picky about who she sleeps with, if you catch my drift.”

Abso-f*****g-lutely the stupidest thing I could have said; I know it the second the words come out of my mouth.

She’s so pissed, she tries to turn on her heel and walk away. Unfortunately, Seth, from his spot behind Harley—and yes, I do mean behind, holding her by the waist as he whispers commands about her abilities into her ear like a f*****g perv—sees this and barks at her, “No changing partners, Shields. Get to it.”

Payton’s cheeks are a deep scarlet when she turns back to face me, but it’s not embarrassment coloring her cheeks; it’s rage.

“Okay, then,” she says, locking eyes with me. “You’re in pain.”

Instantly, I gasp out loud, clutching my head as a searing headache shoots through it. “Stop!” I wail as I drop to my knees. “Please!”

As suddenly as it began, it’s gone.

Shit, she’s powerful. I’ve seen Compulsion before—Rachel Rosario is particularly good at it—but never specific to pain like that. I didn’t even know it was possible.

“Your turn,” she says evenly. “Hurt me.”

Hurting Payton Shields is the last thing I want to do, angry as she is at me. Still, for the sake of not failing the class, I do what I usually do and shift into a wolf—my usual go-to.

I spot admiration in her eyes for a split second; if she’s ever seen me do this before, it wasn’t up close. 

I lock eyes with her for several seconds before hopping onto my hind end and taking a swipe at her. She dodges it easily, and I shift back.

“Why do you do that?” she asks me when I’m safely in my human form again. “Barely even try to inflict harm.”

I’m curious what she means by that. “You talk as if you’ve noticed it before.”

She shrugs. “A few times. Even at the tourneys. You don’t even try to win.”

“I never really got the tourneys,” I admit. “Do you? I mean…. Trying to pick each other off like gladiators? What’s the point?”

She eyes me thoughtfully for several seconds, then turns back toward Seth and Harley without answering me. I follow her gaze to them and cringe to see that he’s even closer to her now—one hand flattened against her stomach, the other guiding her wrist as he “helps” her work on her Telekinesis.

As if the most powerful Magic in the world needs Seth Oliver’s help with anything.

“It doesn’t matter that she’s of age,” Payton finally says, turning back to face me. “And it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t picky about who she slept with.”

“I know.” I run a hand through my hair, cursing the version of me that said that. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t—”

“He’s a predator,” she interrupts. “Taking advantage of his authority over young women. It’s not okay.”

“I know,” I say again. “I’m sorry, Payton.”

She crosses her arms, boring into me with those unfairly green eyes of hers.

The next words she says are in my head, not out loud.

Don’t be sorry. Do something about it.