"MISS CARPENTER, CAN I go to the library for first prep instead?"

The after-school hours on weekdays went like this: we got an hour of free time right after school, from four to five, though sometimes we had to attend clubs and other activities. Then, we head to first prep, which is monitored in the classrooms, before going to dinner at six. After dinner, there was another prep session from seven to eight, after which we got free time until half past nine. Bed-time and lights out was at ten, though we never really slept until ten thirty.

But the problem was simple and the problem was this: the people in my prep room were loud. And by loud, I meant loud enough that I was starting to find it difficult to concentrate, even with my headphones. I could use a silencing charm, but I didn't work well in complete silence either. I needed just a little bit of noise, just a tiny bit to keep myself in the best position.

And then I'd remembered a little something I'd read in the boarding handbook before I came here last night, and it was that we could specially request to be in the library for first prep.

The library, surely, wouldn't be well-populated at this hour? But to go there I had to ask my tutor, a blonde-haired woman in her twenties in charge of half of my year group of Lok girls. There were ten of us total. Yunji was in my tutor group, Adelina was in the other half.

Miss Carpenter fixed her blue eyes upon me. "Do you not want to go to the classroom?"

I grimaced. "It gets a bit loud, Miss, and I do prefer the peace and quiet when studying."

She broke into a smile. "Honoria. It's September. What on earth do you have to study for?"

The answer was rather simple. My parents were spending a small fortune to send me here, and I was not going to, under any circumstances, let them down. That meant getting the best grades I could, and studying whenever possible to make sure I stayed at the top. It was something I'd promised myself I'd do before coming here, and I wanted to keep that promise.

So. My need to study. Even if no one else understood it. Besides, as a new student this year, I'd missed out on almost everything I was meant to learn last year. I was behind, heavily so, because the curriculum at my old school in Hong Kong was different to the one here.

It terrified me. Back at my old school, I'd almost always effortlessly been top of the class. Here, it wasn't familiar territory. Spells were an universal language for us, and one that wasn't verbal. That wasn't a problem. But English was still a subject, and Human Science was more difficult than I'd imagined.

"I just want to be ready," I told Miss Carpenter firmly. "Just in case. I want to do as well as I can."

"Well, you can go to the library," she agreed, "but don't stress yourself out. Remember to have some time for relaxation."

"I will, don't you worry, Miss."

And that was how, an hour later, I sat alone in the corner of the library, laptop propped up in front of me, the Human Science textbook laid out beside it. Osmosis... osmosis... osmosis. I had most definitely not learnt about this at my old school. I scrunched up my brows, straightening as I pulled my hair into a ponytail behind me. My god, why was the curriculum back home so different from this?

It scared me. Genuinely. I was someone who'd never had to put much effort into my academics to get grades I was proud of. But now, all of a sudden, I felt all this stress on me. Weighing down like stones.

It was fine.

I glanced around the library. I'd guessed correctly—it was sparsely populated. Only five or six people were here. Of them, I recognised one. A dark-skinned boy named James Taylor, who was in my Theory of Magic class. He sat in front of me, and we'd briefly spoken once or twice during class. By no means friends, but we acknowledged each other's presence.

It was a bit annoying, how difficult it was to integrate properly into any friend group here. It felt as if all the "gangs" had already been formed, and while everyone was polite and pleasant to me, I could always feel that lingering sense of me being an outsider.

It was expected, but not appreciated.

There was one other full boarder, a boy, one of Sebastian's housemates. Theodore, I think, though we hadn't talked yet. He was in my Artefacts and Advanced Combat class, and he was damned good at it. Seemed to be the teacher's favourite. He was black haired and pale skinned, with soft yet focused eyes firmly glued to the tablet before him.

I redirected my attention back to my textbook. Right. Osmosis. Potatoes.

I glanced up as James Taylor stood up from his table, picking up his laptop and slowly strolling over to mine. I raised a brow, watching him sit down beside me.

He looked at my textbook and let out a muted, silent bark of laughter. "Why are you studying fourth form stuff?"

"Because I never learnt it?" I asked, offering a shrug. "Trying to catch up, you know."

"Oh yeah, fair enough," he said, tapping on his chin. "If you ever need help, I can try, but I'm not the best at Human Sciences either. I'm more of a Magical Creatures and Herbology kind of guy."

I replied, "Don't take either of those classes."

"Seriously?" he asked, looking seriously affronted. "What do you take then?"

I raised my hand, raising fingers as I listed, "History of Magic, Advanced Combat, Artefacts, Mythology and Geography. You?"

"Magical Beasts, Herbology, Music and Healing. I'm a passive guy, me, unlike you Advanced Combat kids."

"Why not just take it?" I asked, frowning. "Doesn't take up any extra subjects, and it's an extra JCM. You have to take Combat whether you like it or not anyways."

"Well, you see," he drawled, rubbing his chin, "not all of us are good at Combat. Some of us struggle with the non-Advanced version of the class, so why would we want to torture ourselves by signing up for the Advanced one?"

"It's not difficult—"

"For you," James Taylor said with a sigh. "I realised I can't react fast enough, you know, with the spells. It doesn't come naturally to me, and I always need to focus on either just the magic part, or the physical part, which means I'm terrible at it."

"That's annoying," I agreed. "We share no electives, that's funny."

He grimaced. "Most people don't take my subjects. They're not very useful, you see."

"They're very specific," I agreed. "I wouldn't say they're not useful, but they're definitely not the most helpful for the future unless you're certain what you want to be."

"Well, I am certain," he said. "Therefore I'm doing just fine. I hope I'm not interrupting your studies."

I shook my head. "No, no, I was just starting to get tired anyways. This is a welcomed distraction."

"Well. How's school been so far?"

"It's been interesting," I said. "You're in Wadsworth, right?"

"Yeah?" he replied, tilting his head. "Why?"

"Are you friends with James Withington?"

Taylor shrugged. "Not precisely friends. We're not close. Too different, I think. In case you haven't noticed," he said dryly, "I'm a bit of a loner around here. Not very relevant, not very popular."

"I've realised people like to use the word relevant around here a lot."

"Ah, well, yes. You're relevant or you're not. The girls in your house, for example, Queenie Gates, Ella Gallagher, Kate Harper, you know, they're relevant, though whether or not people actually like them is a whole different thing. James Withington is relevant. Me, I'm not. You're not either."

"I realised."

"Do you want to be relevant?" Taylor asked, studying me intently.

"I'm not sure. I didn't come here to be popular," I said pointedly. "I'm here for education. If I randomly become relevant I won't complain, but I won't actively seek it either."

"Well, I suppose that's a good mindset," he hummed. "You're not going to get depressed because no one knows you."

"I don't think I'm particularly interested in that," I replied.

"I have to admit," he said, "most of you full boarders? Not very relevant. Of course there's Sebastian and Theo, and then there's Nadia for the girls, but she's technically still weekly. Nicole, actually, but other than that, the rest of you are completely irrelevant. You might want to keep that in mind."

"Nadia Sorren?" I asked. Of course I'd heard about Nadia Sorren. The Sorren family was famous, and Sorren House was literally named after them. And Nadia was gorgeous, in that way that made her seem completely untouchable. I hadn't spoken to her yet, though Yunji didn't seem particularly fond of her. Sebastian liked her though, as did most of the other girls in house.

I trusted Yunji's judgement more. It was nothing personal, she'd just always been more reliable, and her view of things more in line with my own.

"Yeah, Sorren." He scratched his neck. "She's mixed, ain't she? Part white, part Thai, I think."

"Not sure," I replied. I hadn't given it much thought. Nadia Sorren hadn't been very important in my life so far. She was in my maths class, but that was it, and I was usually too busy talking to Yunji during maths to chat with anyone else. That, or actually doing maths.

But then I'd focused on another name. "Theo's relevant? And Seb?"

"Basically, people find them hot." Taylor flashed a smile. "That's about it. They tend to prefer sticking to themselves and the other full boarding kids, though Seb sometimes hangs out with Withington's gang, I think."

"Ah, I see." The school's social structure had been less rigid than I'd expected, though I supposed it was partially because I'd trusted the novels and shows I'd watched and read a bit too much. It was malleable.

That was nice, because it meant that while it would be difficult to fit into any pre-formed friend group, it wouldn't be impossible. That was all I needed to know. Grades were important, yes, but the people here...

The tuition of Bridewater College was expensive. Most of the kids here had money, influence, and power. My family was upper-middle class at most, able to comfortably supply for ourselves but still nowhere to some of the other students here. Therefore, another part of why I'd come was to build up connections. Meet people. Befriend them.

It would be helpful for my future.

"But yeah, this school? Most of the people are nice. Even the bitchiest of them—which, in my opinion, are the girls in your house—aren't actually bad people. They're just a bit too much at times, that's all. Also, information spreads fast in this school."

My brows furrowed as I raised my gaze to meet his. "Elaborate?"

"Say, if you did something embarrassing during games? Everyone will know by lunchtime."

"Well, I don't plan on doing anything embarrassing."

He glowered. "That kind of shit isn't in your control, Honoria. And people do twist shit."

"I thought you said they weren't mean."

"Well, they're not horrible, but they can still be mean, you know." He scratched his nose. "You'll figure it out as you go along, probably. It's not actually that complicated. It's not Mean Girls or whatever."

"You've watched Mean Girls?" I asked, slightly nonplussed. He didn't look like someone who'd have watched Mean Girls, dressed in a dark green hoodie that fit perfectly with his dark skin, and black basketball shorts. Very dark palette, overall, but there was a slight class to it that showed that he was someone who knew how to dress. And someone with a fair bit of money, considering the brand of the clothes.

"Of course I have," he said, baffled. "Who hasn't?"

"Fair enough," I said with a one shoulder shrug. "Thank you for your help, I suppose?"

"You're most definitely welcomed. Okay. Here's how you can repay me."

Well, that took a quick turn. He shoved his laptop towards me, revealing our Theory of Magic prep. "Have you finished this?"

I had. The prep had been set two days earlier. I'd finished it that night. A simple worksheet, five long answer questions.

"Yeah, it's quite simple."

James' eyes fluttered shut. "Not for me. I don't get it. I don't understand it at all. I swear I've listened so carefully in class and I still don't get it."

"Okay, okay. Which question? Third?"

He nodded.

I scanned the question again. Name two of the most well-known theories on the origin of magic, and explain. My eyes flickered back to him. "You don't know how to do this?"

He seemed a bit offended now. "I have no fucking idea how to do this, Honoria Song."

"Right, right. Okay. So, the most well-known theories, right? So I'd pick two out of the otherly realm theory, the human mutation theory, and the other species theory. Otherly realm, it's just that our ancestors came from another realm and bred with humans. Least evidence, I think. Wouldn't suggest that," I tapped my chin, "Human mutation has more evidence, it's just that we're humans who mutated to have the ability to control magic, which is really just a scientific force that can't be wielded by ordinary humans or something like that...

"And other species theory. Personal favourite. We are a completely different species who just look a lot like humans and interbred with them. Quite similar to human mutation." I tilted my head at him. "Pick two."

He blinked. "Uh, otherly realm and human mutation. The last two are too alike."

"Well, then just write that and explain it. I'm sure there's a couple books in here that can give you the answers," I frowned. "Have you not learnt this?"

"No," he deadpanned. "I mean, I've heard of them, but never actually learnt about them. Have you learnt about them?"

"Yeah, it was in my curriculum two years ago." I flicked my hair over my shoulder. "There. My payment's done, James Taylor."

"You wound me with your coldness, Song," he joked. "But thanks. I have a feeling I'll be asking you for help with Theory of Magic a lot in the near future. Now... I have Magical Beasts prep."

"Can't help with that."

He scowled at me. "I didn't ask for help with that. I'm very good at it, you know."

"How does Magical Beasts even work?" I asked, frowning. "There's only a couple beasts kept on campus, and it's too small for anything major."

"We live in Bridewater," he said with a roll of his eyes. "The city with the highest concentration of magicians in the whole world. We have one practical lesson and one theory lesson every week. Theory's just taken here, but we're portalled to Menagerie for practical ones."

"Ah, fair enough. And Herbology's just in the greenhouse, right?"

"Herbology is in the greenhouse. Also once a week. But the Potions part of the lesson is under the main building, in the cauldron room. I hate it. It's so bloody hot and we're not allowed to cast cooling charms there for some reason, but I like the subject enough I'm just dealing with it."

"Good for you," I said with a smile. "Always hated both subjects at my old school. Just doesn't make sense to me. I hate getting my hands dirty, and potions give me a headache. The measuring and stuff, I'm too careless for it."

"Aha, that's what I love most. You get to experiment with it, for one thing, rather than being force fed information like the other classes."

"You're not force fed it," I frowned. "You do get to explore on your own. Yes, the information is already there, but that's part of the fun. There's a safety net. The answer is out there already, you just have to learn it."

"So what's the fun in that?" he asked, shrugging. "If the information's already out there, why do you still have to figure it out yourself? You can just search it up on the internet or in a book."

"How many of us are actually going to be alchemists or potion makers or zoologists in the future?" I riposted. "The information we learn in my classes are far more useful unless you're certain you want to go down a specific path."

"Which I do, and therefore your point is moot." He offered a smile. I wrinkled my nose at him.

"Oh, whatever. This conversation is getting stupid anyways." I glanced at the time. "Fifteen minutes until dinner."

"Oh, such a long and painful fifteen minutes," he sighed melodramatically. "If I studied at a human school, I'd take drama."

"There is a drama club," I pointed out. Students could pick to attend the clubs if they wanted to take human subjects for human university in the future, though they weren't mandatory and were all a personal choice. I went to the human history club and the politics club. Despite its name, they were basically classes held in the hour after school, right before prep time.

"Too lazy to take it," he admitted. "What's the point? I'm not actually going to become an actor anyways, or anything along those lines."

"Fair enough. It's your life, your choices."

"You know what your problem seems to be?" James grimaced, pushing himself into an upwards position.

"I'm all ears."

"You try too hard. You're a tryhard. You're so fucking sweaty. Why?"

"Why not?" I asked, giving him an incredulous glance. "I'm just trying to do as well as I could."

"It's Lower Fifth," he said, exasperated. "JCMs don't start until next year. This year doesn't matter. My god, you do not need to work as hard as you are right now."

"Lots of people have been saying that time," I mused. "Me, I think it's my personal choice. Also, you have no idea whether I'm working hard or not. None."

He grimaced. "I see you in class, yeah? And some kids talk. Were you in the same group as Casper Robinson during English? He talked about you. Said you basically carried the entire project."

"He was just being an idiot," I replied matter-of-factly. "I didn't carry, I was just the only one actually working."

"Precisely."

"Someone needs to do it, you know," I pointed out. "I might as well be that person."

"Your choice, your loss." He flashed a smile. "Five minutes left, we can leave early if we want to."

"I don't mind," I said. "My friends are in the classroom, I'll need to wait for them either way."

"Well, then," he said, standing up. "I'm going to go first, see if I can get into dinner early with the Fourth Formers. It's probably not going to work, but hey it's worth a try." He offered a quick nod as he packed all his things into his backpack. "Nice chat, Honoria Song."

"You too, James Taylor."

He slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, then. Have fun, try not to become notorious, and stop tryharding. It's making the rest of us look bad." With that, he made a beeline for the library door, leaving me behind with the few students who remained. I released a sigh, my shoulders slumping into a very unladylike posture before I pushed myself back into position, shaking my head.

I wouldn't be able to achieve much in five minutes, so I whisked out my phone and started scrolling through my social media. I'd gained quite a few Instagram follow requests in the past day. James Withington, Tom O'Neill, Clarke Ford and Victor Collins were among the names. A few minutes later, another one popped up—James Taylor.

I clicked accept for all of them before exiting the app and glancing at the time on the top of my screen. Six fifteen. Time to go.