Page 70 of Self Studies

“Relax, Aphrodite,” Roisin said, grabbing my hand.

Nurse Norah and another man dressed in scrubs came into the Sphérique and gently checked Derek before carrying him off the screen.

“He’s probably fine,” Sandy added. “They’ll take him to the medical wing. No visitors there until the Aptitudes are over, though. Sorry.”

I took a deep breath and tried to pull on a braid that didn’t exist anymore. Unsettled, I opened my book and copied the rest of the girls, focusing on the screen every time a new student lost control. And they all did. Some of them stumbled out on their own but most went into the care of Norah. Dead or alive, I couldn’t tell.

After about an hour, chatter and rustling swelled around me. I recognized the newest student on the TV from my Practical Magic Application class—the one who’d drowned her stepfather. Around me, girls shushed each other and watched.

Slowly, the student took her spot in the center.

Whatever they did to her, moments after kneeling, water pooled around her knees. It poured out of her mouth, eyes, ears, and down her body. In seconds, her gaunt husk fell backward and splashed into a deep puddle. Shriveled lifeless eyes looked directly up at the camera.

Silence filled our lounge. I didn’t know how to react. Shock, regret, and pain swirled through me. They’d let her die. Broadcast it to the entire Institute.

Talking suddenly resumed. A few girls made excited noises as their gems’ glow intensified.

“People bet she would die?” I asked, trying to understand.

“Death’s a part of being here, part of control,” Sandy explained casually. “As I said, it sounds cold, but you’ll get used to it.”

I rubbed my chest and tried to adopt the same nonchalance the students around me showed. But my memory focused on the girl's dead eyes, which melted into Damons.

I stilled. Breath in. Hold. Out.

“Hand me your phone,” Sandy commanded.

My gaze focused back on the real world. Robotically, I did as Sandy asked before turning back to the TV. Nurse Norah picked up what looked like Magnus’ Tera’s mop and started cleaning while her assistant carried the girl’s corpse off the screen.

A new student walked into the Sphérique, and the cycle began again.

I took my phone back from Sandy and looked at the bright orange app. Rows of names had unique runes, numbers, and percentages next to them. Between the video cameras and Mêler, there had to be unreal amounts of data on each of us.

“What are the runes?” I asked.

“Oh, we’re assigned one when we come in. It’s on the back of your gem,” Sandy said.

I flipped over my gem. It did indeed have a unique rune on the back.

Focusing on my phone again, I tapped on the ‘register’ button. A drop-down menu appeared, and I easily found my name. Once selected, my Mêler profile popped up confirming I wanted to register. Sandy snuck her hand in and pressed confirm before I could blink.

She smiled brightly. “There, now you can bet too. It’s Beryl’s app.”

My stomach twisted.

“Though I think it’s his friend who runs it. ” Sandy said, noticing my discomfort. “I can’t remember his name, but he’s got great pecs. I’m pretty sure he waxes them, though.”

Roisin shook her head. “Really? That’s what you remember about him?”

Sandy stuck her tongue out at Roisin before opening up one of her textbooks.

Once again, pushing Beryl from my mind, I started scrolling through the app.

“Looking yourself up?” Sandy asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

I grimaced, finding my name and the stack of odds against me.

Roisin put her hand over my phone screen. “Ignore her. I don’t participate in betting. Watch and study; there really isn’t anything else we can do. They lock the classrooms and activity rooms.” She sighed. “The TVs are stuck on this channel, so the only thing to do while we wait for our turn is watch. I think it’s part of the stress test.”

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