I slammed my locker shut, yanked on my coat, and slung my backpack over my shoulder. It felt like it was stuffed with boulders—or books. Which, of course, it was. One book in particular weighed on me, as thick as it was old.
At least it wasn't as heavy as it had been in the library, before I'd zapped whatever lurked in there with my improvised "happy thoughts" taser. Too bad I couldn't use one on myself.
My thoughts were anything but happy as I stomped toward the exit, bracing for the bite of winter air.
Footsteps pounded behind me. I turned, half-expecting trouble, but it was Malcolm—skidding to a stop, breathless.
"Mira," he said, catching his breath. "I'm sorry. I know you didn't do it on purpose. Any of it." His eyes were bright with sincerity.
Suspicious, I narrowed mine. "What changed your mind?"
"I saw you draw the spell today. You did everything right. Perfectly right. I didn't believe you before about your chaos magic, but now I do."
I snorted. "You think I wanted to pepper Duncan with rubber chickens and turn him into a piglet?"
"You turned Duncan into a piglet?" His grin spread. "That's kind of awesome. Are you sure you didn't just change him into his true form?"
A laugh escaped me. "Don't tell anyone. If Duncan finds out I told you, the piglet's wrath will be upon me."
"Well, it suits him." Malcolm sighed. "Can we… start over? Forget the meowing madness?"
"No more cat fights?" I teased.
"I'm being purr-fectly honest." He tried to keep a straight face, but we both cracked up.
"But where are you going? Not back to class?" he asked.
"Home. It's only a couple miles. I like the walk." The truth: I could've called for the driver, but I didn't need to flaunt my family's wealth. I stood out enough already.
"Let me give you a ride," he offered. "I can miss one class."
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. First Duncan, now Malcolm. Maybe I was having an unusually good hair day… or maybe I was just lonely. My parents had set me up once with the most boring guy alive—kind, polite, humor buried six feet under. Since then, my love life had been hibernating right alongside the bears.
"You're really not going to ditch me at a cat lady's house?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.
He grinned. "Promise. Straight home."
"Okay."
We headed out. His jeep was an older model, rusty with a muffler that had given up years ago, but it had character. I buckled in, half-waiting for the punchline.
He started the engine, set his GPS, and we drove mostly in silence. I tried to say something a few times but only managed awkward "never minds." Smooth, Mira. Real smooth.
My phone buzzed. Duncan: Can't meet tonight. Maybe tomorrow. No explanation. Maybe the piglet was scared.
"Wow," Malcolm murmured as we pulled into my driveway. "This is… wow."
The sprawling red-brick mansion loomed, white pillars and massive windows glowing against the gray sky. Old money written all over it.
"You want to see inside?" I asked before I could overthink it.
"Why not?" His grin widened. He hopped out, opened my door, and held out his hand. "My lady?"
I placed my hand in his, rolling my eyes but secretly thrilled.
As we walked toward the doors, thunder rumbled in the distance. I froze.
Thunder. In the middle of winter. In Meridian.
Clouds swirled, dark and roiling, and for just a second, I swore I heard laughter threaded through the rumble.
"We'd better get inside," I said quickly, and we dashed for the doors.