Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

My father had commissioned the school to be built in an old-fashioned style, so although it was less than twenty years old it looked like it’d been around for centuries. The St. Bastian’s crest was engraved into the stone wall above the entrance, depicting the saint the school had been named after.

St. Bastian was a dhampir, just like me, who had lived hundreds of years ago. He was renowned as both a scholar and a warrior and had achieved sainthood by saving thousands of vampires, witches, and warlocks from the gallows during a time when humans hunted them.

The crest consisted of a scroll, a sword, and a heart to represent the good St. Bastian did for our kind.

My first class of the day was Telekinesis, a subject I typically dreaded. Most of the students were already there when Nic and I entered the classroom. Our teacher, Mr Williams, disliked me, probably because of how terrible my grades were in his class. Belinda Williams was his niece, and she always received top marks from her beloved uncle, though I wasn’t sure if it was down to nepotism or genuine talent.

I spotted Peter sitting in his usual seat close to the back. He had a textbook open in front of him, his attention glued to the page. A part of me longed for him to look at me like he had the other night, but sadly, it appeared he was back to ignoring my existence.

It was probably for the better anyway.

I was taking my seat when the new boy, Ren Tanaka, entered the room. He was tall, with jet black hair, olive skin, and brown eyes. He wore dark eyeliner and had several facial piercings. If he wasn’t currently wearing the St. Bastian’s uniform, I had a feeling he’d be dressed in black from head to toe.

“Check out goth boy,” I heard someone say. Belinda and her two best friends, Anna and Liz, sat in the front row. I noticed them take Ren in with interest, sizing him up. He stared at them coldly, sizing them up in return. Oh, I liked his confidence. He wasn’t letting those bitches intimidate him.

Belinda looked away, dismissing his presence.

Having the right name counted for a lot in the magical families and being a Tanaka meant Ren wouldn’t have too much of a hard time fitting in. Still, his alternative style paired with the crazy rumours people were spreading would probably prevent him from being embraced into the popular fold like he might’ve been otherwise.

Ren strode to the back of the classroom. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to Peter.

“Nope,” Peter said, and Ren sat down.

Peter looked up briefly, his eyes meeting mine. I held my breath for a fraction of a second before he looked away again, disinterested.

Disappointment set in as I turned back around in my seat.

It seemed that whatever short connection we’d shared on New Year’s Eve was gone.

“Ah, I see we have a new student,” Mr Williams said, casting Ren a cursory glance. “I won’t do you the disservice of having you introduce yourself to the class. With how quickly gossip spreads around here, I’m sure everyone knows who you are already.”

Mr Williams wasn’t doing Ren a favour. He simply didn’t care enough to give the new boy a few moments of extra attention. Evidently, snobbishness was a trait common to the Williams clan since Belinda had similarly dismissed the new boy.

“I hope you’re all glad to be back and that you enjoyed your holiday,” Mr Williams went on. “Last term, our focus was moving light objects, pencils and pens and such. Most of you managed to pass your practical assignments,” he paused, glancing disapprovingly in my direction. My chest deflated at the memory of my epic failure.

The end of term test had been to use telekinesis to transport a bundle of pencils from Mr Williams’ desk several feet across the room, placing the bundle neatly on a bookshelf. A feat I’d been unable to manage.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I sensed someone’s attention. It might’ve been Peter, but I didn’t turn around to confirm. I was too embarrassed to be reminded of the fact that I’d failed my end of term test.

“This term, we’ll be moving on to a much higher level of acumen. I won’t reveal what your final assignment will be just yet, but rest assured we’ll work our way up to it gradually.” Mr Williams bent to pull a drawstring bag out from under his desk. Opening it, he reached inside and removed bright yellow tennis balls, placing one on each student’s desk.

When he reached mine, he paused, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he dug around in the bag. Finally, he pulled out a tiny tennis ball, about a quarter the size of the regular ones. It was the kind you’d give to a small puppy to play with. My chest seized with more embarrassment as he placed it down in front of me.