got to know me better, Lia.”
I ignore the fluttering in my stomach for the second time today. “I’m sure I will. I’d love your help.” His bright look disappears as I hand him a wooden-handled mop and point to a bucket half-filled with soapy water.
“Are you kidding me?” He holds the mop and glowers at it. “Sofia told me to help you backstage. I didn’t think she meant cleaning.”
“Everybody’s leaving now. I usually stay to clear up.”
“The school has cleaners,” he protests.
I hold a hand over my mouth, unsure what to say. Ash and Jamie know I do this, but I’ve never spoken to anybody else. I’m not ashamed that Sofia pays me to help out, even when the academy cleaner can do the job, but I don’t advertise the fact.
“I need the money,” I mumble.
He stares at me as if I told him I’m actually a shifter and not a witch. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s confusing? My dad’s on a military pension and can’t work. I need a lot of help to become a decent witch and graduate, which means I can’t leave the academy for a lesser school. Sofia pays me to clean.”
I burble the words as the shock in his face grows. “But this is a human task, Lia.”
“Exactly. I’m not academic either, and I don’t want to end up stuck in this kind of job for real. So, I work to help pay my tuition fees.”
He rests against the mop, supporting himself as he continues to regard me like I’m a different person. The heat on my cheeks spreads down my neck. Is he judging me?
“I didn’t think poor people came here.”
I choke out, “What the hell?”
He straightens. “No. I didn’t mean that to sound bad. I never thought that—”
“People have hard lives? That poor Amelia who struggles to control her magic is also struggling to keep her place here?”
“No. You have this wrong.” Matt sets the mop against the wall and swipes a hand across his hair. He’s focused on me, but his look is pitying.
I swallow away the embarrassment. “We can’t all be perfect witches from perfect Confederacy families,” I retort. “Perhaps if you had to struggle with something, you might be a nicer person.”
“What? I’m not a bad person.”
“Really?” I grab the mop from the wall. “You borderline bullied that girl. You walk around the school like you know better than everybody. Yes, we’re aware your skills surpass some of the professors, but look where it’s landed you.”
His face is a mixture of confusion and surprise at my words.
“The embarrassment at being demoted from the rugby team and forced to help with the musical isn’t the worst that could happen,” I continue and shove the mop hard into the bucket. Water splashes over the edge.
“I know. Theodora threatened me with Ravenhold.”
I freeze and turn back to him. That rumour is true? “What?”
“The academy can’t handle my skill. They’re frightened of me.”
I ignore his high opinion of himself. “Matt. Everybody knows how unusual your talents are for somebody your age, but you’ve chosen to put the target on your head.”
“Huh?”
“You could work on developing the spells we’re taught instead of showing off with ones you shouldn’t. Haven’t you realised how much trouble that can get you in?”
“Yeah. I have now.” He chews his lip. “I won’t have as much magic energy anyway.”
“Why not?”
“One of my punishments is to help students who need extra magic practice. I’ll waste my spell energy on teaching them and won’t be able to ‘show off’.”
As witches, we draw from our body’s physical energy to perform spells the same way humans do to work every day. If we don’t rest, or spend too much energy casting magic, the spells grow weaker. Sometimes we can’t cast at all. If Matt’s forced to spend his magic on helping lesser witches, he won’t have as much left for himself.
Theodora chose an apt punishment, but I don’t tell Matt this.
“And as if that’s not enough, I’m forced to spend time here so Sofia can watch me. I’ve no free time.”
“She isn’t here now.”
“True.” He tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth.
“What?” I demand.
“You’re supervising me instead. I didn’t think you were the sort of girl who’d take charge and tell a guy what to do.”
He hits me with his signature smoulder, complete with charming smile. Ugh, Amelia. Don’t react. I switch my attention back to the mop and slop water onto the floor.
“You’d better behave, then.” I thrust the mop at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he