The next day arrived like a punch to the teeth—early, rude, and with terrible intentions.
I stood at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, watching my brilliant collection of future disappointment slump into their seats one by one. Mira and Cassandra were still absent, supposedly attending an advanced magic review or secret girl meeting to avoid my creative torment. Their loss.
The rest of the circus had arrived.
Leo was limping. Garrick had an arm sling, which he insisted was "just for the vibe." Wallace's hair had not recovered from the steam explosion he called an 'engineering success,' and Felix… poor, sweet, perpetually cursed Felix… was wheeled in by Julien on a rusted cart.
"Permission to exist, Professor," Julien said lazily, kicking the cart to a stop.
"Denied," I replied without looking up. "And points deducted for improper wheel alignment."
Felix groaned. "I think I swallowed a bug."
