Chapter 14 #2
I keep my gaze firmly on Aric this time.
And as soon as a Hexrush player seizes control of the sphere, he starts to sprint down the field, along with one other witch on his team.
The player with the sphere passes through an air rune, gaining a burst of speed, and they use that enhanced speed to throw the sphere to Aric with incredible power.
I squeeze the end of my scarf in my hands, afraid the sphere might rip Aric’s arm clean off given how fast it’s hurtling toward him. But he leaps and catches it against his stomach, cradling it to lessen the impact—though it still looks painful.
Then he’s sprinting again, looking ahead to the witch on his team who’s nearly at the end of the field.
With a concentrated furrow in his brow, he drops the sphere and gives it a sharp kick, somehow perfectly angling it so it soars over the head of a Striker who leaps to intercept it.
His teammate catches it, and now she’s running for the goalposts, her long legs moving so fast they’re almost a blur.
She sprints through the goalposts, and before I can think to stop myself, I leap to my feet and let out a triumphant cheer—along with Lyra and half of the students and faculty in the stands.
But despite all the people cheering and screaming and jumping up and down, when Aric turns and scans the crowd, it’s my gaze that he finds.
And the smile he gives me feels like sunlight, like he could chase a midwinter blizzard away with that one look.
It feels like he was looking for me, and now that he’s found me, his gaze doesn’t stray.
And I smile right back, grin so big that it makes my cheeks hurt.
A tiny voice in my head says, He sees me.
I want to deny it. I’ve had silly little crushes over the years, but apart from an awkward date here or there, usually at the library or Mama’s café, nothing has ever worked out, and I’ve stopped getting my hopes up.
The safest place for me is cuddled up in a comfy chair with my nose in a book.
But now here I am, cheering at a runeball game, and the captain is looking right at me.
There’s no calming the flurry of butterflies in my stomach.
I think I might be falling for Aric Vandermere, whether I want to or not.
I CAN’T REMEMBER THE LAST time I was this stressed.
Maybe last Yule, when Mama and I were so overwhelmed by bakery orders that we had to stay up until the early hours of the morning—multiple days in a row—just to get everything prepared in time.
After that, it felt like I lounged in bed for a week, doing nothing but reading and cuddling with Pepper, our cat, and eating sweet snacks while snow blanketed Wysteria outside my window.
But right now, watching as Hexrush and the Sigil Strikers battle to win the match, I feel extremely stressed out. Like I might start biting my nails at any moment—and it took me a long time to break that habit.
The game is tied, and we’re down to the final minutes.
The players are coated in sweat, and a few substitutes have come in for each team.
Raelan calls them fresh legs. Until today, I had no idea he was so passionate about runeball.
But he’s standing right alongside Lyra, cheering for Morgan’s team while Lyra cheers for Aric’s.
I twist the fringe at the end of my scarf around and around my finger, my gaze flitting across the field, following the movement of the arcane sphere as it flies through different runes and responds accordingly, whether that means catching fire, becoming coated in a glistening layer of ice, or getting a boost of air speed.
My stomach clenches hard when Morgan intercepts the sphere from a Hexrush player near the center line.
She’s done that a few times now, but Hexrush haven’t been able to adapt quickly enough to stop her.
Rather than trying to pass to one of her teammates and risk losing possession, she makes a break for it.
And she’s fast. It seems like Hexrush didn’t anticipate this, and Morgan slips through a couple of their defenders.
But Aric is running for her, his arms pumping at his sides, his legs tearing up the distance to his opponent.
Somehow, I find myself on my feet, along with almost everyone else in the stands. Some scream Morgan’s name, others scream Aric’s. I remain silent, focusing on him, twisting my scarf until it tightens around my fingers.
She’s gonna score, I think glumly. She’s just so fast.
But at the last moment, Aric dives, shooting a blast of powerful air magic at Morgan just before she can pass through the goalposts.
She loses her grip on the sphere in the onslaught of wind, and it tumbles from her hands just before the whistle blows, signaling the end of the game.
The Hexrush fans cheer, and even though it’s a tie, a horde still surges down onto the field, sweeping Aric up in their chaos.
I finally let out the breath I was holding, my lungs sore from being so tight for so long.
“That should’ve been a point,” Raelan grumbles. “She was right there.”
“Right there wasn’t close enough, dragon boy.” Lyra slaps a hand down onto Raelan’s shoulder, ignoring the simmering glare he gives her. Maybe she’s not afraid of his dragon fire since she’s a fire witch; I’m pretty sure I’d combust under the heat of the angry look he’s giving her.
“So, what did you think?” Alina asks, ignoring Lyra and Raelan like she’s used to their bickering. “Did you have a good time?”
I nod, then say, “It’s a lot more intense than I remembered. Is it always this way?”
Alina shakes her head. “No, not really. It’s just like this when Hexrush and the Strikers play. They were the two teams in the finals last year, but the Strikers took the trophy, and now Hexrush fans are eager to win it back.”
“I really hope they do,” Maeve says. “I won’t be able to survive another summer with Aric moping around. He was hopeless.” Her gaze slides toward me, and she tips her head, giving me that catlike look that means she’s up to something. “Maybe I can kick him out and he can stay with you instead.”
Heat rushes through me at the thought of Aric Vandermere being at my house, in my room. I open my mouth, but no words come out.
“Stop teasing,” Alina says, but even her tone holds a hint of playfulness.
Maeve pushes to her feet and pulls me in for a hug. “Sorry, Pops. I can’t help it.”
I lean back from her and smile, trying to shake off the nervousness that the mere mention of Aric causes in me. “Isn’t he the one who cooks for you? Maybe he should come stay. He’d be a big help at the café.”
Lyra calls from behind me, “Hey, Pops, he could probably help you out in some other ways too.”
I whip around to face her, horrified that she’d say something like that in front of everyone, and she’s giving me her mischievous little smile.
“Okay, both of you, quit it. You’ve been nettling Poppy incessantly about him.” Alina stands, putting herself between me and Lyra.
Maeve twists her lips into a smirk but says nothing.
The crowd is thinning out a bit now, probably all in a rush to get to the dining hall for post-game lunch, and we start to make our way down the stands and along the runeball field. When I glance up, I catch sight of Aric—and Morgan.
They’re standing close together in the middle of the field, and he says something that makes her laugh. She reaches out to touch his arm, and the familiarity in the casual contact makes jealousy spiral through me.
She’s the type of woman I’d expect Aric to be interested in—outgoing, beautiful, a powerhouse player on the field. I wonder what didn’t work out between them . . . and whether they’re looking to try again. Not that it’s any of my business, of course.
I’m still watching them when Morgan glances over and catches my eye. I don’t look away quickly enough, and Aric turns and sees me before I can duck into the crowd or try to shield myself behind Raelan.
I tear my eyes away, hoping they were looking at someone else and didn’t just catch me staring at them.
We shuffle along slowly, stuck behind a cluster of first-years who’re slowing down our pace as they giggle and try to catch the eye of a few Hexrush warlocks nearby, mopping their faces with towels and pretending like they don’t love the attention.
We’re just about to break free of the crowd when a voice calls, “Poppy!”
And my whole body heats up hearing him call my name.
I turn slowly—along with the girls and Raelan—to find Aric leaning on the fence, arms crossed, smiling right at me. He waves me over, but I remain rooted to the spot.
“Go on,” Alina whispers, giving me a gentle nudge. “We’ll wait near the benches by the flower beds.” Then her gaze cuts to Lyra and Maeve. “And you two, not a word.”
They exchange smiles but do as their princess commands.
Alina nudges me again, and this time, my feet move, carrying me right over to where Aric is standing. He’s hunched over a bit, leaning on the fence, but even so, he’s still much taller than me.
When I step up to the fence, he says, “You came. I didn’t know if you would.”
“You invited me,” I say, then glance away from his intense hazel gaze. “Of course I came.”
The words slip right out, more truthful than I meant them to be, and I want to gobble them back up like I gobbled that cake we baked in class, but it’s too late.
Aric laughs, and it’s such a wonderful sound, all warm and buoyant and comforting. It makes me wish I were funnier, just so I could draw that laugh out of him more often.
Does Morgan make him laugh like that?
I mentally slap the thought away.
“So, if I invited you to go somewhere else—say, a cookie shop—does that mean you’d say yes?” Aric asks.
I’m so surprised that I snap my gaze to his. Is that a joke? “A cookie shop?”
“Yeah. Have you been to Sweet Crumbs? In Wysteria?”
The blood is rushing so loudly in my ears that I’m having a hard time hearing him. Is he asking me out? Like . . . on a date?