Page 68 of Self Studies

Chapter 10

I woke the following day to the sound of my alarm. Groggily, I tried to sit up, but my head felt heavy. I reached up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and tried to comb through my hair, but something sticky and crunchy met my fingers.

My remaining morning fog vanished, and my heart seized. A cry escaped my throat as I peeled my hair off my mattress and stumbled to the washroom. The Dealership’s giggles barely registered in my consciousness.

I don’t know how long I stood in front of the mirror.

The sound of a stool scraping across the tiled floor distracted me as Roisin, still dressed in her PJ’s, tucked it under my butt and placed a hand on my shoulder.

I tore my eyes away from my hair to meet her ashen face.

“I’m going to have to cut it out,” she said softly.

My gaze slid back to my hair, and I let the weight of her hand push me onto the stool. Instead of long, thick, wavy brown locks, a tangled wad of bright yellow gooey substance enveloped my scalp. Roisin poked at it. A blob seperated and plunged to the floor with a sickly splat. My stomach churned. There was more yellow on one side than the other; whatever someone poured on my hair in the middle of the night even discolored my skin, adding to the lovely bruise I’d gotten in kickball.

I looked like a freak.

“The Dealership must have spent days working on this. I mean, there are potions and creams that could help,” Roisin said. “But they’ve imbued whatever this is with magic, probably not blood magic, but maybe they got some of your hair or something. You’re going to need a professional.” Roisin made a despairing noise. “It’s going to cost days’ worth of rations.”

The smell of rotten eggs curled in my nose, wafting from the nasty concoction. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to vomit or cry. I’d never considered myself a vain person, but then, I’d never really thought about it either. My hair had always been there for me. Damon had loved it down, and since coming here, I loved braiding patterns into it every morning.

Roisin picked up my phone to take a few pictures of the mess. “Do you maybe want to tell Beryl or Saffron, is that a thing now?”

Silent tears dripped off my chin. I scrubbed them away, tired of crying.

I shook my head. “Beryl would go after Mercedes, and I don’t want him to get into trouble.” I tried to pull on my braid, but it was gone. “Saffron’s been preparing for Aptitudes all week. He’d probably tell me to suck it up. Professor Garnet too.” I paused and grimaced. “This is probably helping me build barriers.” I made air quotes with my fingers as I said the last two words.

Roisin rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you’d tell a professor, but even if he did care, this is a step past building barriers.”

I nodded, pretending I’d not slipped up and talked about the professor like we were an item.

Roisin took a breath and pulled a pair of clippers out of a drawer. “Let’s stop talking and do this. Better to rip the bandaid off fast and clean.”

I closed my eyes and replayed last night in my head in an attempt to drown out the sound of scissors and the tugs on my scalp.

Professor Garnet had returned from his meeting with food. Although an uneasy tension filled the air from start to finish, I’d enjoyed having all three of them together. We’d eaten around the low table in his office in complete silence. They reminded me of the stray cats that lived outside my window. The mangy beasts would converge on the trash can, each puffed up and trying to pretend the others didn’t exist until they were forced to acknowledge each other. A series of dramatic hissing usually ended with cats licking their butts on opposite sides. One cat always stayed out of it and ended up with all the food to himself. Last night, that was Professor Garnet.

I snorted, the analogy a little too fitting.

After the meal, the three explained barriers: layers of magic and focus built around the mind.

Non-magical people developed them, like calluses, in response to being teased or having their feelings hurt. It was an inner strength they didn’t consciously work on but built over time. Mages could transform those barriers into walls of magic to defend themselves from assaults from other mages. Again, something which normally built up over time.

But like everything else, I’d never been bullied. Damon made sure I wanted for nothing and showered me with compliments. Although he’d occasionally chastised me for doing something wrong, even in those moments, he carefully manipulated me so I learned from them, grooming me to be exactly what he wanted. And now, I understood why. Just as he’d kept me physically exposed, he wanted my mind pliable.

I swallowed hard.

“You didn’t deserve this, but you can’t be surprised,” Roisin said as she snipped.

I wrenched myself back to reality. Another tear leaked out of my eye. This one had nothing to do with my hair.

When my roommate dropped off my bookbag, she’d seen me under the covers in the professor’s bed. Alone with Saffron and Beryl. “Did you tell her what you saw?”

Roisin locked her gaze with mine in the mirror. “No.” She cut out another piece. “Mercedes was upset yesterday after Saffron carried you off. Her tantrums when Saffron ditches her for Professor Garnet are legendary. He ditched her for both of you. She can’t touch the professor, but you’re fair game.”

I took a frustrated breath. “Isn’t Professor Garnet a part of Saffron’s harem?”

Roisin paused and gave me a puzzled look. “That would be a no. Teachers and administration can’t be a part of harems. Professor Garnet has taken Saffron under his wing as an apprentice. Their relationship is academic. Mercedes is a jealous bitch.”

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