Cursed to the Bone

11. Becoming Friends

Mondays were fun because I could compete with Rhett, but he loved Tuesdays because he could wipe the floor with me. Don't ask me why, exactly, I felt this way, but I hated Elemental magic. Tuesdays were best for that class because it was early in the week and once that was over, I was free.

Our professor, Christine Waters, had an especially fitting name for someone who taught the Elemental branch of magic. In truth, it wasn't all about elements. There were often wild debates on why it wasn't just called offensive magic, or combat magic. The same could be said with Distortion and its defensive nature. No matter what they called it, I wasn't a fan.

"It's like this," Rhett said indifferently, his elbows perched on my desk and his chair pulled up beside mine. His palm cupped a tiny ball of flame.

"I'm doing that."

"No, you're not." The flame in his hand dispersed as he took mine, forcing it to curve more, and pushed my fingers higher. I could feel the difference in the way the magic spiraled in my palm. It'd been choppier, before, and now it was smooth. "Try it."

Ignoring the warmth in my cheeks, I willed the magic to burn. Two strings of magic flickered to life in my hand, twisting around itself until forming a wispy ball of tame fire. "I see."

Rhett dropped his hand and flashed a smug grin. "You're welcome."

"Don't be smug," I said, releasing the fire into a tendril of smoke.

"I'm not smug!"

"You are."

"Why must you wound me, so?"

I looked around. The classroom was packed. Everyone loved having the power, but they all sucked at it as much as I did. Some glared at Rhett. I could commiserate. It was a good thing he and I were whatever we were because I needed all the help I could get and he was spectacular at Elemental magic.

"When you've finished fire, move on to the next element, wind." Christine's icy-blue stare fell upon us from the front desk, her umber fingers striking the table in a contemplative pattern. I was almost sure she liked the sounds of frustrated huffs and hisses from magical burns and loathed the sounds of victory. We were kicked out last week because of our success, and the only reason I think she let us stay so far was because of Rhett's natural talent.

"Easy," Rhett said, cupping his hand in a wider gesture. A twist of air spiraled in his hand, flexing higher and higher and floating back down before it could transform into a little twister. Easy? I wanted to laugh. As he dismissed the wind, he stared expectantly.

The idea of conjuring wind made me sweat. My curse was delivered on the air, my bones carved and broken by wind. It left me with a ridiculous phobia. Some days, when it was particularly breezy, I could swear I heard whispers of my curse. I tried to spend those days curled in bed with a book, but I loathed to fall behind.

I cupped my hand as he showed me, but it shook like a leaf and I couldn't get the magic to form.

"Why are you trembling?" Rhett whispered.

"It's nothing."

Rhett didn't say anything if he doubted me. He stilled my hand with his warm ones, sending my heart into a frenzy. "It's almost the same as the fire, Vee. The fire was actually more difficult than this."

My fear was overruled by surprise. I glanced at him, head tilting. "Vee?"

Rhett shrugged, pointedly refusing to look at me. "Nicknames are common amongst friends."

Friends. My stomach didn't curl in discomfort as it usually would. I wasn't sure what caused the change in him, but it was welcomed to the point that I would miss him if he were gone. How did that happen? The tension in my shoulders eased as I refocused on my hand. Magic twisted up, spiraling as it had with the fire into a visible curl of wind. Content, I readily flicked it away. "There."

"See." Rhett's smug smile was back. "Easy."

"Well." Christine leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Water and earth can't be conjured. Only manipulated. Go to the lake or something. I'm done with both of you for the day. Miss Vega, start on wind."

Rhett was eager to stand. He pushed his chair in and took up his book. "Great. When we're done with these, I have some spells I want to try."

"Sure."

We walked down to the lake and set to task, starting with the obvious choice of Water. It was, surprisingly, easy for both of us. Then came Earth. It may have been a lack of imagination, but manipulating earth was difficult. We tried holding it in our hands, dry and wet, but that came with dismal results.

"Let's take a break," I said, rinsing my hand in the lake.

"Yeah." Rhett did the same, his cheeks puffed and his brows knit. He dried his hands in his cloak and sank dejectedly to the grass.

Sitting beside him, the start of annoyance tightened in my chest. Was he seriously being so hard on himself? I huffed and gazed at the sky, torn between saying something and staying quiet.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, tell me," he said, voice sour. "Something's on your mind."

"It's just stupid. You're so hard on yourself even though you're an absolute natural."

Rhett stared at me with wide eyes and his mouth propped open. Then he squinted. "Like you're one to talk. You get frustrated the moment a spell doesn't work."

A rush of blood warmed my cheeks and I shrugged. He was right. It was hypocritical, but seeing him so down on himself didn't sit right with me. It didn't suit him. I didn't like it. "Take a compliment, Collins."

"Back to Collins, hm?"

In the sunlight, the green of his eyes brightened enough that I could make out specks of gold. Pretty. Maybe the prettiest I'd ever seen, but that was too embarrassing to think about. Shaking my head, I said, "Rhett."

A warm grin slid across his face. "So. Did Vera Tate really just pay me a compliment?"

I glared. "Don't push your luck."

"Okay, okay," Rhett said, chuckling as he dug up a handful of earth. He stared at it a minute, shaking his hand to make it shift. "Dirt, huh?"

"Yes." I took up my own handful and tossed it into the air, watching as it sprayed out upon the grass. "Dirt."

"Oh." Rhett laughed like he couldn't believe it. The earth in his hand shifted, pulling apart and tightening into a ball. He grinned at me. "I figured it out."

"Oh, did you? I hadn't noticed."

"Shall I tell you how?"

"Of course," I said, grabbing another handful.

"It won't keep a shape because it's made up of parts. You have to condense it into one piece. Squeeze and then shape."

That made sense, I thought, feeling dumb. I stared at the dirt. My magic pulled, tugged, and shifted the earth in a way that I managed a sloppy form of control. In the end, it was far from perfect, but I figured what I had was enough. I could perfect it later, right?

It wasn't like I'd need it anytime soon.

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