Page 50 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

Chanelle painted imagery with her words, conjuring the best sales pitch when tricking them into treating the game like a battle. In the minds of each teen, they waged a delicate war against an unsuspecting foe.

Emmanuel weighed the amount of luck he’d need to unleash to better his chances while still holding onto enough magic to last several rounds. I didn’t realize how finite his hexing magic was in a day.

Tiffany didn’t bother with her aloof tricks, something I’d seen her use on Gael and many others during her time at Gemini. As a tiny blonde with a cute face and high-pitched voice, she’d gotten used to being shrugged off as dim. Instead of proving them wrong, she had more fun playing the part. That wouldn’t work with her coven since she’d lulled each of them into a trap on more than one occasion.

So, in this match, she prioritized working with Duchess, her beaver familiar with whom she shared a telepathic link, one even my magic couldn’t glean both sides of the conversation. This helped the duo practice their strategizing, predictions, and plotting. A skill Chanelle wanted to further mold.

Much like how I didn’t have experience with Emmanuel, I didn’t know the next student at the table either. I’d never had her in any of my classes, but I thought maybe I’d seen her hanging around some of my students before. It was hard to recall. It was hard enough keeping track of the hundred-plus kids on my roster, let alone the nearly two thousand roaming the halls of Gemini Academy.

“You all realize I’ve seen every possible outcome to this little game.” Olivia pouted her lips, attempting to add a layer of mystique to her expression, a hint of secrecy, but immediate flashes of the ditzy girl who often tripped over her own feet while laughing at something on her phone appeared in Emmanuel and Tiffany’s surface thoughts.

It didn’t stop Olivia from continuing to have a cocky attitude as she held her cards close to her chest and performed a three-card spread with a separate tarot deck.

“Hmmmm.” She studied her cards, thoughts wrapped in predictions.

“I’ll take two.” Olivia tossed cards from her hand into the discard pile and grabbed two more after gauging the potential outcomes from her tarot spread.

Though she possessed the same branch magic as the great Enchanter Evergreen, they each accessed future images in very different ways. In order for Olivia to glimpse future outcomes, she required the tarot deck as a support tool. If she wanted to predict the future outcomes of others, then she needed them to come into contact with her cards, too.

“This round is mine, so bluff away. I’ve seen everything you have or will have or could have or might maybe get at some point.” Olivia squinted while attempting her most intimidating gaze.

She was quite possibly the only one at the table to actually believe her own bluff.

“Save the heart of the cards bullshit.” Emmanuel tossed three cards into the pile and grabbed new ones. “We all know lady luck is on my side.”

“If only she were lucky enough to find a better job since hanging on your hip has got to be a real drag.” Tiffany fanned herself dramatically, mockingly, and casually showing off two poor cards in her hand to draw attention away from her beaver’s careful snooping of Emmanuel’s hand.

While Emmanuel, Tiffany, Duchess, and Olivia eyed each other for signs of casting, they underestimated the biggest threat at their table.

Literally the biggest, too. Ryan towered over everyone at the table, big and broad and thick even sitting down, which might’ve helped keep him upright with so many extra limbs sticking out of his back.

He’d overwhelmed Gael Martinez with incredible strength during last year’s Spring Showcase, but I didn’t realize his biggest talent came in the form of stealthy subterfuge. Chanelle did, though, helping him hone his branch in ways even his peers didn’t suspect. Sure, every one of them kept an eye on Ryan’s many sprouted arms, suspecting he’d use an extra hand to pilfer from the deck of cards, but in actuality, he used his arms to manipulate the casting at the table.

He’d unleashed arms of every shape, from long and gangly to short and muscular, all the way to fat and all thumbs. Each arm moved suspiciously, drawing attention where his literal sleight of hand desired.

This allowed Ryan to brush a few stray hairs from Duchess, dropping them onto the tarot deck and altering Olivia’s perception of the future unbeknownst to her. She merely assumed Duchess held the biggest threat to her winning hands and made the unsuspecting beaver her target. After all, why elsewould the familiar appear in every reading Olivia performed on the card game?

Emmanuel spent so much time gauging the precise mathematical amount he’d require for each winning hand that he didn’t notice Ryan run his fingertips along Emmanuel’s ankle. That was all Ryan needed. Quick skin-to-skin contact while Emmanuel channeled his luck, inadvertently sending it toward Ryan in waves.

Thankfully, Chanelle made it a rule they explain how they used their magic to outperform each other after the game, otherwise poor Emmanuel would likely spend weeks befuddled by how terrible his math skills were in conjunction with how much magic he actually possessed and how much casting luck truly cost.

Amani watched a few rounds, making a mental note of Ryan’s skills but finding the challenge limited. Despite how much she enjoyed playing the game during her first year at the academy, most of Mrs. Whitehurst’s review game days left Amani bored. Her illusions were too precise for card games, tricking even her coven mates, who were the most aware of the psychic tells.

She easily won over everyone, especially without Jamie around. Her breathing hitched momentarily, recalling how soft he’d become during their second year and then how suddenly he was gone. It left a sour taste in her mouth, barbs cast toocasually, and compliments never uttered because she didn’t have them at the time. Now, a thousand different things buzzed in her thoughts, but dwelling on Jamie was as exhausting as watching her classmates play poker was tedious.

Ignoring all of it, Amani returned to doom scrolling through her phone, watching videos, and messaging friends.

A message from Layla popped up, and Amani smirked.

Wait a second. I cocked my head, focusing my eyesight primarily on my classroom.

Motherfucker. Layla was in the middle of a test.

I twirled my fingers in Layla’s direction like casting a fishing reel made entirely of telekinesis, and then I snatched the phone from her lap and pulled it toward me. It snagged, halted by Layla’s telekinesis. She practically snarled, eyes a deep golden and filled with fury. Teeth bared and fanged. Claws extended and dug into her desk. She kept quiet, allowing most to remain undisturbed by the slight crunch of her nails.

“Why are you looking around?” I linked my thoughts to the few who glanced up from their desk. “I didn’t realize you had finished your test. Wow. Must’ve aced it if you’re done that quickly.”

And with that, they returned to their own business.

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