This requires very little brainpower, so I spend the rest of my energy on my new and definitely not self-destructive habit: pining after Ana.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her grinding down ingredients with her mortar and pestle. Her arm muscles are super defined. She looks gorgeous, as always. And even if she wasn’t incredibly hot, there’s something about watching her brew potions that makes my heart go all warm and fluttery. My traitorous heart obviously doesn’t understand the current situation. Fuck you, heart.

Suddenly her eyes flick up, and she meets my gaze boldly. “You need something?”

I nearly drop my phone. “Hm?”

“You’ve been staring at me.”

I scoff at that, trying to play it off like I wasn’t staring. It comes out way more intense than I mean it to, so I sound like a jerk. She stares at me, blank faced, and I deflate. “Sorry,” I say. “I totally was.”

A little smile curls at the corner of her mouth. “Creep.”

“You stare at me all the time,” I retort.

She inclines her head, conceding the point, and the smile disappears. I want it back. Before I can beat that impulse into submission, I take a step toward her lab table. “Want help with that?” I ask, pointing at her mortar and pestle.

She looks at me, cool and distant. “Sure,” she says eventually.

What am I doing? If I’m going to avoid her, I can’t be all wishy-washy about it. That’s not fair to her. Even so, my feet are taking me to the supply closet to grab another mortar and pestle. When I return, I set myself up beside her and start grinding down fennel seeds.

We work in silence. It’s not a nice silence, or a comfortable one. It’s a silence that crackles awkwardly in the air between us. A silence that tells me that, yes, I have messed things up between us. Of course I have.

“I heard that Mr. B was thinking of swapping my solo for yours at the scholarship ceremony,” I say, trying to fill this awful quiet.

She stops grinding. “What?”

This was a bad choice of topic. I shrug. “That’s what he said,” I say. “I was just wondering if he talked to you about it.”

She doesn’t reply right away. Instead, she goes back to grinding fennel seeds, with more force than before. A sophomore flags me down from across the room, and I reluctantly leave Ana’s side. He wants my feedback on the Chameleon potion he’s brewed for his honors potion class, so I inspect it and rub a bit on my hands. While I’m waiting for it to take effect, I return to Ana’s lab table.