6. Zair
Zair
Flirting with Disaster
Thea is definitely not giving me an easy A, but I’m pretty certain it will be one.
She’s explaining to me the importance of each ingredient, distilling the book into clean, clinical bullet points.
It’s the most I’ve ever learned about a potion, that’s for sure.
I place my hand on the back of her seat as we work, so close we’re almost touching.
But I can’t help myself. It’s not her broken soul pulling me in this time.
It’s the way she carries herself, all sharp edges and cold confidence.
A pungent wave of perfume announces Sloane and Lillian’s arrival before I even look up. They stand over us, every detail of their posture curated for maximum attention.
“Zair,” Lillian purrs, leaning in a little too close. “Didn’t know you were slumming it with Adora. I thought someone like you had better sense than to get stuck with this… loser.” She lets the word linger, savoring it like candy on her tongue.
Sloane’s smile is razor-sharp. “Honestly, Zair. If I’d known you were looking for a lab partner, I’d have volunteered. I’m far more… experienced than she is. And who wouldn’t want someone who knows how to handle a potion properly?”
Lillian leans in further over the desk, pushing her breasts together so they nearly pop out of her shirt. She’s so close now that her overpowering scent fills the space. Thea lets out a small snort. They round on her instantly.
“If it isn’t Adora. Did you get lost? This is Advanced Potions, not remedial,” Sloane sneers.
Thea’s gaze sharpens to a blade. “The name is Thea, and if you’re done embarrassing yourself…” A glimmer of a smile touching her lips. “We need to add our Violet Essence of the Moonflower.”
We added that twenty minutes ago.
Lillian’s hand trails dangerously close to my chair, and I instinctively jerk away from her reach.
“Don’t touch me.”
Lillian lurches, knocking over the vial of Violet Essence of the Moonflower. The bottle hits the desk with a crack, the lid popping off and spilling the liquid in a slow arc across Thea’s meticulously organized notes.
Thea’s eyes flick to the ruined pages, then back up to Lillian, her expression completely unbothered.
“Well, that was a lovely touch, Lillian,” she says dryly.
“Professor Sinclair,” Lillian calls with way too much sugar. “Adora is wasting the… the… the purple moon essence. She spilled it all over!” They share a look of victory.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to see how Thea gets out of this.
“Adora!” he yells, even though he’s only two feet away. I can feel every eye in the class turn to watch. Prick. “Did you not hear me expressly tell the class that it’s expensive, or were you too busy making googly eyes at Mr. Brennan?”
“I go by Thea.” Her tone is scary polite. “And there’s no way I could have spilled it. There’s a potion between me and the moonflower. It would be impossible without also knocking over my cauldron.”
The professor’s frown deepens. “You’re disrupting the class, making a mess, wasting valuable ingredients,” he mutters, like he’s going down a list of possible infractions.
His gaze sharpens, and his lips curl into a smug smirk.
“And let’s not forget your lab partner, Zair, is doing all the work, isn’t he?
You’re just sitting there, watching him handle everything.
Were you too busy staring at Zair to actually participate? ”
The whole class watches with rapt attention.
“With how hard you’ve been staring at us all of lab, I figured you would’ve noticed me working,” Thea replies coolly. “Or were you too busy making googly eyes at him to notice?”
Ew. Please tell me that’s a joke. The blush that creeps up Sinclair’s neck suggests it’s not.
“Don’t worry,” Thea adds, her tone sugar-slick and sharp as broken glass. “We all get distracted sometimes. Just try not to project your crush onto my work ethic.”
He’s tried making her a spectacle. Instead she lit the man on fire with words.
Sinclair straightens, his face now a furious red.
“Listen here, you little—” he snaps. Thea only glances behind him and points with one finger.
“You should’ve been paying attention elsewhere.”
The whole class turns to watch an unsettling green potion bubble over the sides of Lillian and Sloane’s cauldron. Panic ripples through the room. Sinclair’s voice cuts through the chaos as he starts barking orders. “Quick, try to stabilize it! Adjust the flame! Add more sage. No, not that much!”
Lillian’s hands fly around, trying to follow his instructions. Sinclair starts yelling for the cooling agent, but it’s clear we’re running out of time. The bubbling grows louder, more frantic, the green hue darkening to a sickly red. There’s nothing anyone can do.
“Move, move!” Sinclair’s voice cracks. Too late.
The explosion shakes the room, the blast of steamed potion hurtling through the air, spraying across desks and soaking us all in the aftermath.
The force knocks me back, and I stumble slightly, stunned.
When the fog of steam clears, I realize I’ve somehow grabbed onto Thea, pulling her close and putting myself between her and the blast. My hands are on her bare arms, fingers tight.
We share a look, the kind that says ‘I saw nothing if you saw nothing,’ and I quickly step away, pretending it never happened.
Lillian stands frozen, her hair singeing at the edges, her eyebrows completely gone.
Sloane’s clothes are charred as she scrambles to regain some kind of composure, but the damage is already done.
The ceiling is scorched, blackened marks spreading from the epicenter of the explosion, the room itself bearing the brunt of their failure.
The smell of burnt rosemary fills the room.
I summon a fresh bubble of air around us, shielding us from the remnants of the disaster.
Thea ignores all of it as she cleans up the mess of her notes, tossing them without ceremony in the trash. All her hard work gone in an instant. She wipes down the table, an amused glint in her eyes as she sings Sweet Dreams under her breath.
I laugh as it dawns on me that today’s potion was for a dreamless sleep.
“You’re something else.”
“Sure you don’t want to join their group? I’m positive you’d double the IQ in it,” she asks.
I raise an eyebrow, giving her a sly smile. “I’m not sure who you just insulted more, them or me.”
Thea laughs quietly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Look at that you found an inch.”
A smile overtakes my face as I stand taller. There’s something about her that’s starting to make sense now.
“Yes! I got an inch!”
Thea snorts and gives me a look. “Most guys wouldn’t be proud of an inch. But hey, more power to you.”
I freeze for half a second, then throw on the dazzling smile. The one that usually melts resistance, turns annoyance into something else entirely. Two can play this game.
“I’d be happy to show you how I use it.”
She raises a brow, utterly unimpressed. “Is this the part where I swoon?” Then, like I didn’t just flirt with a witch, she turns to the cauldron.
“Can you grab some bottles? The potion’s ready to cool.”
I stand there, bottle-less and dazed. What the actual hell just happened?
Did I get shot down? By a witch? And more importantly, why was I even flirting?
No witches. That’s the rule. The one I don’t break.
If I’d said that line to anyone else, they’d already have dragged me into a closet and blown up GhostChat with it.
But Thea? She looked at me like I asked her to pass the salt.
I grab the bottles, still recovering. Either she’s playing hard-to-get or I broke my cardinal rule for someone who genuinely couldn’t care less. I don’t know which possibility is worse.
She’s not just a mystery. She’s a full-on opponent. And I’m already losing.
We bottle the potion, standing close enough to touch. But she doesn’t try to. I haven’t had to jerk away from her in the whole two hours we’ve been here.
I’m the one who touched her.
Does she not like touching witches either?
She’s moved on, scribbling in her notebook.
“Do you remember what happened after we added the mugwort? Did it bubble, or was that the one that shimmered? Or was it the lavender that shimmered?”
I hope she’s talking to herself, because I’ve got nothing. I scan the room, trying to figure out who might have the best notes. Because whatever game we’re playing, it’s clear: she’s already two moves ahead.
“Everyone, turn in your potions. Professor Smith will collect your lab reports next class,” Sinclair announces, his voice flat.
I notice he’s missing half of his mustache, but hasn’t seemed to realize it.
Thea and I walk up together to hand ours in.
Only Mila and Anna’s potion is the same color as ours, and I’m starting to feel a spark of concern when Sinclair walks over to me.
His swaggering movement makes my skin crawl.
“Good job on the timing, Zair,” he says it like he thinks it’ll give him a shot. I’m a witch. I’ve tried almost everything. But creepy teacher? That’s a hard no.
He looks down at Thea. “Adora, I’m going to have to tell Professor Smith that you caused an explosion and should be removed from this class.”
“I caused the explosion, at the end of the class?” Thea asks, her voice unnervingly calm.
“Yes. That’s what I just said,” he growls.
“The moonflower should have been added during the first five minutes. Guess it wasn’t me,” she says simply, turning to leave.
“How do you know it was the moonflower?” Sinclair accuses.
Thea pulls out her handout and shows him a bold, clear note: Forgetting the Moonflower will cause a violent explosion. Sinclair narrows his eyes. He doesn’t have a response.
“Hope the rest of your day goes as smoothly as this has,” Thea says brightly, before turning and walking out the door.
“Hey, Thea, wait!” I call after her. She stops, turns to look at me, and waits for whatever I’m about to say. What was I going to say? Why did I stop her?
“Uh, can I get your number? I mean… for the lab report. You know, so we can talk about it?” Seriously, Zair. Have you never asked a girl for her number before?
She cocks an eyebrow but hands me her phone. Careful to offer it without making me touch her to take it. I quickly call myself and save her contact. Before I can say anything else, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, still trying to figure out who this girl is.
I shake my head to try to clear it before making my way toward my next class. After a few turns, I realize I’m following her. Not that odd, plenty of classes in this building, but when it’s clear there’s nowhere else she could be going, I pick up my pace to catch up.
“You’re in Spiritborne History this hour too?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
She glances at me and nods. “Yeah, same place I’ve been all semester.”
Right. Shot myself in the foot again. I need to give up on trying to charm this girl. She doesn’t fall for any of it. We step into the classroom and she doesn’t even glance my way. Just drops into a seat like I’m already forgotten. Cool. I guess I was the only one who thought we had a moment.
But I did get her number.
I try to shake her off as I head for my usual spot, Tomo and Bernard sit on either side of me. The lecture starts, and I try to focus, but my mind keeps drifting to her.
She writes five pages of notes. Five. On this mind-numbing lecture.
I stare down at my own notebook: six words.
“Don’t tell the nightblinds about magic.”
If that isn’t the least useful note I’ve ever written. It’s literally our number one law, ingrained in us from the moment we can talk. Yet there she is, filling five pages.
What am I missing?