Chapter Nineteen: A New Normal | Part 5
Thirtyx spent most of lunch and his free period addressing envelopes for the apprenticeship applications he’d completed. While most of his law-aspiring peers were just starting to crack open catalogs, Thirtyx already felt behind. He’d chosen a whopping 47 candidates and painstakingly organized them not just by application deadline but by odds of success based on Mrs. Wiggins’ notes.
As he headed toward the rec hall after class, arms laden with thick packets, he considered adjusting his plan. Perhaps he’d overestimated the number of these he could carry comfortably. His arms were already burning, and he was only halfway across the courtyard.
“Need a hand with those?”
Thirtyx’s heart leapt into his throat before crashing back down to his stomach. Perhaps it was best that he couldn’t see Seerla over the mountain of envelopes. It would only make this harder. “I… uh… I think I can manage.”
Seerla ignored him and pulled several packets into her own arms so she could look him in the eye. Her playful condescension made Thirtyx’s stomach flutter. He’d never imagined how much he’d miss her until she was gone.
“What, did you start a side gig selling research papers or something?” she teased, falling into step beside him.
Thirtyx rolled his eyes. “Apprenticeship applications—something you don’t have to worry about as Dexerro’s little prodigy. Speaking of which, aren’t you afraid he’ll see you with me and tattle to your parents?”
“Nah, I just left his office. He’s meeting with Armatrus about extra credit.” Her conspiratorial posture sparked a pang of that weird hunger. Had he grown to miss that, too? “And for your information, smart alec, I still have to apply for my apprenticeship. And he can take it away at any moment, so I’ve planned a few backups. Five in total, I want to say? How many do you have?”
“Twelve,” Thirtyx grunted.
Seerla’s eyebrows flew up, but she quickly wrangled her surprise. “That… is quite a few.”
“Seerla, this is just my first batch. I had to stop because I have a project due in my interdimensional cultures class, but I’ve got three more sets planned with this many apiece.”
Seerla nearly dropped the envelopes. “That’s over forty applications! Thirtyx, why—”
“I need a few more backups than the average person.”
A flush spread across Seerla’s cheeks. She looked to the ground then slowly brought her gaze back up to the uniform packages she held. “I… I didn’t realize you’d need quite that many. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry. “It could be overkill. I could get 20 offers. But given that I’m the first Verith outside of Everis to try this in, like, 25 years, I’m not leaving anything to chance.” He stared across at the rec hall door that still seemed too far away for the continued ache in his arms. “Plus, Rhea and Benn are helping a lot by magically duplicating some of the paperwork. Even my cover letters—they engineered one of my drafts so that, when it’s duplicated, some of the specifics fall out, and I just have to write in those parts.”
They were quiet for several moments, leaving only the sound of their footsteps on the cobblestones. “I see you’re applying to the Lerraine Group,” Seerla said at last. “That’s one of my backups. They have four spots, right? In the worst case scenario where Dexy looks out his window and sees us right now, maybe we’ll get into that one together. That could be fun.”
Thirtyx snorted. “You once told me part of you wanted to live in a Troll hermitage, and now you’re saying you’d thrive in the nightlife capital of Eressee? Raging Selkie parties don’t really seem your style.”
“If you were there, I wouldn’t mind.”
Thirtyx’s stomach did a backflip. There was a taste of that wild, uncharacterizable energy he so painfully craved. His heart pounded. Was she saying what he thought she was saying, or was she simply pointing out the power of their friendship?
She continued with a heavy sigh. “It’s killing me, Thirtyx. Staying away from you. I hope you know that.”
Thirtyx suppressed his innate desire to downplay the statement, and it took him a few fracs to find an appropriate response. “It’s not my favorite arrangement either.”
“I’m serious, though. I even considered taking out a loan to pay my own tuition, but there’s no way I could pay it back on apprentice wages without signing away my soul. Spending time with my old friends just feels so… empty after being friends with you.”
Thirtyx’s brain was suddenly on fire. In one corner, cogs spun to analyze each of her words 74 different ways. Another corner churned out deflecting statements—would he be a jerk if he didn’t self-deprecate? But yet another corner recognized that, if he didn’t show that he hated this situation as much as she did, he could lose her forever.
All three corners coalesced in a terrifying idea to solve the problem: Tell her how you feel.
Calley Jones 