"I won't," she promises.

  I glance at my phone, surprised to see the time. "We need to go." I get up quickly. "Economics starts in fifteen minutes and we still need to get across campus."

  Thalia groans, echoing my sentiments exactly. "I don't even like Economics."

  "You still have to go. Come on." I gesture to the door and pull my coat back on while Thalia grabs her spare one from her wardrobe.

  We hurry out of her flat, making our way quickly across campus so we don't end up late for our lecture. I don't think anything would happen if we were, but we also don't want to have to walk into a room where everyone already knows we're late. That doesn't sound fun.

  It seems that the excitement of our dating lives is going to have to wait until after we've been bored to death by a lecturer who doesn't seem to like his subject very much.

  13

  Michaela

  * * *

  In an almost strange twist, the lab looks exactly the same way it did before, and I'm not sure why that surprises me.

  "Hello?" I call out.

  Owen pops his head out of the storeroom, his face lighting up when he sees me. "Out of hangover cure so soon?" he quips.

  I chuckle. "Not at all. I actually came about more gorgon potion."

  "I should have known." His voice doesn't sound too annoyed, which is reassuring. The last thing I want is for him to be annoyed at me and not make the potion that could help Thalia get to the point in her relationship where she's confident in telling Evander how she feels. "I'm guessing your friend's dating is going well?"

  I nod. "Very, I think. I've never seen her like this."

  "And I guess I can be confident she's not dating you now too."

  "Considering I was on a date with you last night, I'd certainly hope so. I know not everyone sees dating as something exclusive, but it is for me."

  His grin widens. "Good to know. I'm the same."

  I breathe a sigh of relief. It matters to me what he thinks about these kinds of things.

  "So, more potion. You're in luck that I actually started a batch yesterday."

  "You did?" My eyes light up. "What made you do that?"

  "I had a feeling I'd need some more. And it keeps, so it seemed like a good idea. I'm running low on a couple of the key ingredients though, so it might be a while before I can make another batch."

  "Not ginger."

  He chuckles. "Thanks to you, I don't think I'll be running out of that for a while."

  "You can never have enough ginger."

  "Unless you're allergic."

  "True. But is a ginger allergy possible?" I've never heard of anyone having one, but that doesn't mean anything."

  "I assume so. It's got to be possible to be allergic to anything, I think."

  "Like I'm allergic to potion making," I quip.

  Owen lets out a good-natured laugh. "Exactly like that. Though admittedly, that's not the best allergy for a witch to have."

  "It depends when the witch was alive. Can you imagine having an allergy to a certain kind of wood and only being able to find those specific wands."

  "Oh, that would be bad," he acknowledges. "Suddenly, I'm grateful for my lactose intolerance."

  "Milk is easy to avoid," I say.

  "It is, but I do need some cream from the fridge for the potion," he admits.

  "I'll grab it." I head over in that direction, somewhat enjoying the role of fetching and carrying potion ingredients. He's the first person in my life who has given me a chance to even be near brewing. My family, and most of the witches and warlock I grew up with, don't even let me near the ingredients.

  Not that I'm going to tell Owen that. I don't want him to think I'm completely useless.

  "You said you gave your half of the potion to your gorgon friend, right?" I ask him as I hand over the cream.

  "I did."

  "Did you get them to test it on you?" I'm not sure why I'm asking, but it feels like it's important to.

  "You mean did I let him test whether he'd turn me into stone afterwards?"

  "Yes."

  "I did. How did you know?"

  "I did the same for Th-my friend. Is it bad that I was a little bit disappointed that it didn't work?" Not that I'm ever going to tell Thalia that. It's going to remain a secret until the day I die and even after that too.

  Amusement dances across Owen's face. "A little bit. I was curious about what it might feel like to be turned into stone. Not enough that I want to ask him to do it on purpose, but I wouldn't have been annoyed if it had happened. Well, beyond the fact that it would mean our potion didn't work."

  "Would we even be able to think if we'd been turned into stone?" I ask.

  "I'm not sure. But at least we'd probably both have missed our date and needed to reschedule."

  I snort. "True."

  He unscrews the cap of the potion and pours in the cream. To my surprise, the potion barely reacts at all. Is it supposed to do that? My knowledge of all of this is very limited.

  "Okay, so I have to ask, why aren't you spending more time in the culinary school if you want to be a chef?" The one here at obscure academy is supposed to be very good. Bernie said that they taught her a lot about how to cook with blood, even though she doesn't like it.

  "They're too focused on the dietary requirements of different supernaturals and don't focus enough on the challenges facing people who can't eat standard ingredients. that's what I want to tackle." He sets the bottle of cream down next to him and I pick it straight back up to take back to the fridge.

  "So you want to make human food but with a magic twist?"

  "Basically. I've heard about some bakeries that do that kind of thing already. They add magic into pastries to make people feel positive emotions, but I guess this just takes it one step forward and makes the magic actually useful in the food."

  "Is it possible to do that?" I've never heard of anyone managing to come up with magically useful food before, but that doesn't mean much. There are lots of things I don't know.

  "I guess I'll find out soon enough," he says. "Will you pass the willow bark?"

  I hop off my stool again and head over to the shelf of ingredients, not minding in the slightest that he's using me to fetch things. Even if I don't know much about potion making, I know that it's better if the brewer is close to the cauldron at all times.

  Unless I'm the one making it, then being as far away from it as possible is the best thing for everyone.

  I exchange a warm smile with Owen as I pass him the bark. I was wrong last night, I have gotten to know him well over the past week, I just didn't feel like it because of all the things he's maintained about me.

  It makes me feel seen in a way I never have before. Most people don't get past the shortcomings in my magic, but it's like he barely notices it.

  There's a small part of me still wondering if he only asked me for a drink because of the situation. But I guess that doesn't matter. Thalia's comment about it not mattering how we meet, just what we make of it rings true now I'm in the lab.

  I just have to stop overthinking everything and trust in myself and the way I feel.

  14

  Owen

  * * *

  I turn the page of my potions book and come across a simple recipe for teaching children. Would Michaela be insulted if I suggest we work on it together? She hasn't said much about our potion making lesson, but she seemed to enjoy it, and it's a good excuse to spend more time with her.

  Not that it seems to be a problem.

  I sigh and lean back in my chair, smiling just at the thought of seeing her again. She even agreed to a second date, though I was foolish enough not to actually ask her for a specific one. At least she came back for more gorgon potion.

  A knock sounds on my dorm room door and it opens seconds later.

  "Hey," Evander says as he steps into the room. "Dev said you were in."

  "Well, I do live here."

  "Sometimes," Evander counters. "You spend more time at the lab than in the dorm."

  "I'm here for my education," I point out.

  "Aren't we all?"

  "You say that like it's a given. I've seen plenty of people who aren't acting like they actually want to learn."

  "Ah, the proverbial bee in your bonnet."

  I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not all about work, you know."

  "Mmhmm."

  I sigh. Should I tell him about Michaela?

  "You're thinking about that girl again, aren't you?" Evander asks.

  "What? How can you tell?"

  "You get this look on your face when you think about her, it's very obvious. If she doesn't like you back, it might be a bit creepy."

  "I think she does," I admit. "But it's hard to tell."

  "Ah, the mysteries of women," he responds.

  "Exactly. But I'm enjoying spending more time with her while we're making the second batch of potion."

  Excitement flits across his face, but I don't think it's anything to do with me getting to spend time with Michaela.

  "So it's going to be ready on time?" Evander asks.

  "Yes, it'll be ready."

  He pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs. "Thanks, man."

  "Any time."

  "Seriously, I know it's a lot to ask for you to keep brewing me the potion. I just don't want to have the awkward I'm a gorgon conversation with the girl I'm dating."

  "I get it, I'd find that hard too. But you have nothing to worry about with the potion. It's not too complicated, and it's good practice for me," I say. "But you're probably going to have to tell her you're a gorgon at some point."

  He lets out a small groan. "I know."

  "Has she told you what she is?" I haven't dated enough to know what number date it's customary to discuss supernatural type on. Maybe it's different for everyone.

  "No."

  "Then you have some time to work out how you're going to do it. If she's not told you what she is, then she can't be too annoyed that you haven't told her what you are either."

  "I hope so." Evander sits on my bed and fiddles with his shirt. "I'm just so nervous. I really like her."

  "Just focus on being you, and it's not going to be a problem," I tell him. "You're a great guy."

  "Thanks, Owen." He puffs out some air dramatically. "Why is it so complicated?"

  "Because women are complicated?" I retort.

  He chuckles. "Do you really think dating is easier for anyone dating guys?"

  "I wouldn't know, but I'm guessing not. People in general are complicated."

  "They really are. Anyway, I have to go, I have an accounting exam tomorrow and I need to do some last-minute cramming."

  "Or you should focus on relaxing. You're not going to learn much more between now and when you wake up tomorrow."

  "Hmm. True. But I need to do something."

  I shake my head, somewhat amused by his insistence. I pull open my desk drawer and locate a bottle of potion, holding it out to him.

  "What is it?" he asks, looking as if he doesn't quite want to trust it.

  I raise an eyebrow. "So you blindly trust me about the gorgon potion, but this one you want an explanation for."

  "Yes."

  "That's the safe approach to potions." And I'm a little surprised, most people don't think twice about them. "It's a concentration potion."

  "Is that not against the academy rules?"

  "During the exam itself, yes. But it'll wear off before the morning, and there's nothing about using it to study," I promise.

  Evander lets out a loud laugh. "Should I be worried by the fact you know that?" Despite his question, he takes the potion from me.

  "I've looked up all the academy rules and policies regarding potions. That way, I can advise people about them when they come asking for something."

  "Have you ever said no to someone?"

  "Once. They wanted a potion that could have had the Supernatural Retrieval Agency banging on my door in the middle of the night."

  He grimaces. "That bad?"

  "Highly illegal unless there are extenuating circumstances, and even then, they wouldn't allow someone like me to brew it."

  "But could you do it?" he asks.

  I shrug. "There's a good chance I'd be able to, yes. Most potion making is just about looking at things logically and going from there." Other than poor Michaela. I wonder what causes potions to go so badly for her? It has to be something inherent in her magic because it's a rare affliction.

  "It's a good thing you didn't brew it, then."

  "Don't worry, I plan on keeping myself a free man so I can make you lots more of your potion," I promise.

  "That's not what I worry about," Evander responds. "I don't want you arrested because it would be bad for you, not because it means no more potion for me."

  I smile at my friend, pleased to have met someone like him.

  "All right, I need to go study." He sighs and gets to his feet. "Thanks for this." He lifts the hand with the potion.

  "No worries. I have more."

  "And if this works, I may be back for more."

  "I'll make sure I stock up."

  He pulls open the door and disappears towards his own room. I swing back and forth on my chair, thinking about all things potion brewing. I wish there was more time before the gorgon potion is complete so I can spend it with Michaela, but maybe I can think of another reason to.

  Or actually pluck up the courage to ask her out on a second date. I'm not sure why it's so hard, especially after I asked her on the first one.

  Kind of.

  And we had a good time. But for some reason, it's difficult to find the moment. And I worry that she's not actually interested in going out with me again, and is just humouring me to get the potion for her friend.

  No. She's not like that. I may have only known her for a week or so, but I know enough to be certain that she's not that kind of person.

  I'll ask her when she comes to collect the gorgon potion. I have to if I want to see her again.

  All I need to do is work out what to say.

  15

  Michaela

  * * *

  Friday comes around faster than I expect it to, and to make matters worse, one of my seminar leaders refused to let us go, even though he knew we needed to get to other appointments.

  I hurry along the corridor towards the lab, hoping Owen is still there and hasn't had to rush off to a lecture of his own. I should have checked what his timetable was like. I sent him a message, but he doesn't often check his phone when he's busy creating potions.

  I pull out my own to see if he's responded. The lack of message is both reassuring and not.

  The door clatters in its hinges as I burst through it breathing a little heavily.

  "I'm sorry," I say through my ragged pants.

  Owen looks up from his potion and smiles. "You're just in time. I'm about to add the last ingredient."

  Relief floods through me. "Want me to bring it over?"

  "Sure, I want the fresh flat-leaf parsley from the window box."

  I make my way straight over to it, confident in where these things are now I've helped him a couple of times. The herb box is full to the brim of emerald green leaves of various shapes. It only takes me a minute to find the parsley and pluck out a handful. I pause while considering if I've gotten the right one, but the flat leaves look the way they should.

  I hurry over to Owen and drop them down on his chopping board so he can do his thing.

  To my surprise, instead of grabbing a knife, he pulls out his wand and waves it over the parsley. It twists over the cauldron, turning into a trickle of equally green liquid as it falls into the potion.

  "That's a neat trick," I say.

  "My dad taught me it. He thought it was a timesaver."

  "He's not wrong."

  The potion begins to bubble violently. For a moment, I think it's supposed to do that, especially as Owen doesn't seem to be reacting, but then he waves his wand away, a panicked expression on his face. "It's not supposed to do that."

  Horror fills me and I hurry back to the herb box and pluck another leaf from the spot I got the rest. I lift it to my nose and sniff hard.

  My heart sinks.

  Coriander. I know it's easy to mix it up with flat-leaf parsley, but for some reason, I didn't think to actually smell the herbs before I gave them to Owen.

  "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. I didn't think to check..." I start babbling.

  "Hey, Michaela," Owen says, trying to get my attention as he hurries over to me.

  "I can't believe I made a mistake like that."

  "Mickie!" The firmness in his tone and how close he is to me catch my attention.

  I stop my mumbling and meet his gaze.

  "It's okay," he promises me. "We've all made a mistake like that before. It's not a big deal, we can fix it."

  "We can?" There's so much hope in my voice that it's almost painful.

  "We can," he assures me. "I just need to add a squeeze of lemon and some actual parsley."

  "I didn't realise it was coriander," I say weakly.

  "I know. It's not your fault. I should have checked before I put it in the potion. I didn't think to tell you that we grow them at opposite ends of the box for that reason."

  I bite my lip and nod tentatively. "That makes sense."

  "It does. But not if you don't know about it." He plucks off a few pieces of actual parsley, and grabs a lemon from the fridge before heading back to the cauldron.

  A part of me still worries that I've completely destroyed any chance that Thalia has of going on her date without turning Evander into stone.

  Not to mention whatever Owen's friend needs it for.

  He hums to himself and squeezes the lemon into the potion, followed by the parsley. A loud fizz comes from the potion, but then it settles down into the same colour as the previous batch.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. "It really worked?"

  "It did," he promises. "Now all we have to do is get it into the bottles."

 

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