Page 23 of Magic in My Bones

I woke to thefamiliar chiming of distant bells. I blinked, groggy and disoriented, then shivered and pulled my blanket closer around my shoulders. As amazing as it was to have Luca as a roommate, he had the annoying habit of sleeping with the window cracked open. Over the last few weeks, the temperature had dropped, and I wasn’t used to the New England chill.

I sat up slowly, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the window. Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden glow across the frost-covered campus. The ancient oak trees stood like silent sentinels, their leaves the color of fire. In the distance, I could see the spires of the academy's front gate, the stone facade bathed in the warm light of dawn.

My thoughts drifted to my family back home. I wondered how the twins, Lily and Ashley, were doing. Were they bickering over who got to use the bathroom first? Was Mom making them toast and jam or scrambled eggs with ketchup? Would she remember that Ashley liked her eggs runny and Lilly wantedthem practically burnt? How was Genna doing in her algebra class? I knew she struggled with math. Maybe Denise was helping her. She’d always been better at math than me. A pang of homesickness twisted in my chest.

It had been hard, leaving them behind to come to Blackstone. But after years of feeling like an outsider in my own home, I knew I needed a fresh start. A place where I could be myself without the weight of my family's expectations and misunderstandings.

I watched frost patterns form on the half-open window. They reminded me of the way Lily and Ashley used to draw on our apartment windows in winter, their small fingers tracing pictures in the condensation while I made sure they didn't press too hard and crack the thin glass. Being the oldest of six meant always watching out for something. Even now, miles away at Blackstone, I couldn't shake the habit of worrying about them all.

I remembered the countless nights I stayed up late, helping the twins with their homework or reading stories to Genna until she fell asleep. I'd make sure they brushed their teeth and got to bed on time, then I'd pack their lunches for the next day, carefully dividing whatever food we had, so everyone got a fair share. Mom was always working, trying her best to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. She'd come home exhausted, her eyes weary but always filled with love for us, even if she didn’t always understand.

It wasn't easy, but we made it work. Denise, the second oldest, was my rock. She'd help me wrangle the younger ones, making sure they did their chores and stayed out of trouble. She had a way with them, always able to make them laugh and forget about our struggles for a little while.

I worried about them constantly now that I was gone. Were the twins remembering to do their homework? Was Gennamaking friends at her new school? Did they miss me as much as I missed them? The questions swirled in my mind, an endless loop of worry and longing.

But deep down, I knew I was in the right place.

I still couldn't quite believe I was here at Blackstone Academy. When the gilt-edged invitation first arrived, my hands had trembled as I opened the heavy envelope. The creamy parchment inside was embossed with the school crest, a soaring raven with a key clutched in its beak.

At first, I'd been wait-listed as an alternate candidate if someone else declined their spot. I'd tried not to get my hopes up. After all, what were the chances of a poor, transgender kid from the wrong side of the tracks getting into the most prestigious necromancy program in the country? It seemed about as likely as Grim turning down a snack.

But then, miraculously, a spot had opened up. Someone else's misfortune became my incredible stroke of luck. Not only was I accepted, but I was being offered a full scholarship that covered tuition, room and board, even a stipend for books and supplies. It was like something out of a dream.

Mom had cried when I told her, tears of joy and pride streaming down her face. She'd hugged me tightly, her strong arms enveloping me like they always had. Even though she struggled to understand what it meant for me to be trans, she'd never wavered in her love and support. She’d always pushed me to be true to who I was, and coming to Blackstone felt like the next step in becoming the version of me I was meant to be.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet flinching as they touched the cold hardwood floor. Luca was still snoring softly, his curly hair peeking out from under his quilt. I envied his ability to sleep through anything. Shivering, I grabbed my fluffy black robe from the hook on the wall and shrugged it on, wrapping it tightly around myself.

“Grim, breakfast time,” I called softly. There was a rustle from the small nest of shredded papers and scraps of fabric in the terrarium, and Grim's furry head popped out, antennae twitching. His caterpillar body had grown considerably, thanks to his voracious appetite for enchanted texts.

I rummaged through the stack of grimoires on my bookshelf until I found the one I was looking for: a tattered volume bound in dark blue leather, its pages worn and musty. I'd picked it up for a steal at the used grimoire store tucked away in a cobblestoned alley near campus. The proprietor, a hunched old man with a wiry beard, had raised a bushy eyebrow when I brought it to the counter. If only he’d known I’d meant for it to be caterpillar food.

I flipped through the grimoire until I found a promising page, the runes shimmering with a faint indigo light. Tearing it out carefully, I crumbled it into Grim's food dish. He scurried over, his mandibles clicking excitedly as he began to devour the enchanted paper.

As Grim munched away, I got dressed, pulling on a thick charcoal sweater and my favorite pair of soft black jeans. I ran my fingers through my sleep-tousled hair, trying to tame the unruly waves into some semblance of order. Catching my reflection in the mirror that hung on the back of the door, I paused, studying my features. The changes from the potions were subtle but undeniable. My jaw was a bit sharper, my brows a touch heavier, my voice incrementally deeper. Each small shift brought me closer to the man I knew myself to be.

Even if I couldn’t convince my stupid face to grow more than a little patchy stubble. Oh well. At least I only had to shave a few times a week. Unlike Luca, who seemed to have given up on taming the goatee that insisted on attaching itself to his face.

Satisfied, I grabbed my leather satchel and slung it over my shoulder. The bag was a gift from Denise, the rich chestnutleather buttery soft from years of use. She'd pressed it into my hands the day I left for Blackstone, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Something to remind you of home,” she'd said, her voice thick with emotion. Now, I never went anywhere without it.

I glanced over at Luca, debating whether to wake him. He looked so peaceful and cozy, though, that I didn’t have the heart to do it.

I left Luca snoozing and slipped out of our room, Grim perched on my shoulder. The dormitory was quiet, most of the other students still asleep at this early hour. I made my way down the creaky wooden stairs, the floorboards groaning softly beneath my sneakers.

Outside, the crisp autumn air nipped at my cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. I pulled my scarf up higher, burying my nose in the soft wool. Inhaling deeply, I caught the scent of wood smoke and decaying leaves, the quintessential perfume of a New England fall.

The walk into town was short but scenic, the narrow path winding through a small wood of towering maples and ancient oaks. Their leaves were a riot of brilliant crimson, sunset orange, and golden yellow, like a patchwork quilt stretched across the landscape. A few leaves drifted down, dancing on the breeze before settling on the damp earth.

Grim chittered excitedly, his fur fluffed up against the chill. He kept sniffing the air, his antennae twitching as he took in all the new scents.

The cafe was a cozy little spot tucked between a used bookstore and a pharmacy. The faded wooden sign above the door read “The Black Cat” in curling script, a small silhouette of a cat slinking along.

I pushed open the heavy wooden door, a cheerful bell jingling to announce my arrival. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baking scones enveloped me like a warm hug. Thecafe had that particular magical ambiance that only came from being frequented by witches and warlocks for generations. The ceramic mugs were all mismatched vintage pieces, each one enchanted to keep drinks at the perfect temperature. Even the resident black cat—a rather plump familiar named Fat Tommy—had a way of appearing and disappearing between tables like smoke.

Behind the counter, the barista was crafting drinks with both mundane and magical ingredients. I watched as she sprinkled what looked like crushed starlight into someone's cappuccino, the shimmer settling into the foam like early morning frost.

I joined the short queue, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet as I waited my turn. When I got to the front, I ordered a large pumpkin spice latte and an apple cider doughnut, collecting both before finding a cozy corner spot to sit for the morning’s studies.

I settled into a worn leather armchair by the window, setting my steaming latte and doughnut on the scuffed wooden table. Shrugging off my coat, I draped it over the back of the chair before reaching into my satchel for the sheaf of papers Professor Crowe had given me the day before.

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