She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I know.” A few beats of silence go by. Clearly, neither of us knows what else to say. “Okay, I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” I say reluctantly.

She hangs up.

I stand alone outside the fine arts building, feeling heavy and frustrated. I’m filled with a need to smash, burn, destroy something. Anything to make myself feel better.

With a grunt of frustration, I summon a burst of fire to my hands and hurl it off into the distance. It flies along the sidewalk, hurtling past the edge of the building before fizzling out midair. I don’t feel any better.

“Fuck,” I say limply. God, I can’t believe I made Lex feel bad about going to a non-licensing college. What kind of shitty best friend does that?

I grab my phone out of the air, turn off float mode, and shove it in the pocket of my backpack. Then I start to walk across the campus, aimless. Dad hasn’t heard back from my auntie who lives near T. K. Anderson about whether she can pick me up, so I am well and truly stuck here, alone on this mostly deserted campus with only my thoughts for company. I could ask Mr. B for a ride. He’s probably still here having one of his oh-so-important planning sessions with Brittany. But I would rather not spend more time with him.

Instead, I pace the length of the sidewalk that runs alongside the back parking lot, absently tugging on the magic in the air around me to cool things down while I mull over my conversation with Lex. Her words ring in my head. So you think that all the people who don’t get into licensing colleges are stupid and lazy. Of course I don’t think that. But then again, I can’t conceive of someone I care about being cool with going to a regular college. They should keep trying to go for that magical license; it’s a cop-out to go for anything less.

I reach the end of the sidewalk and continue off in the direction of the back faculty parking lot. Under my feet, the ground changes from asphalt to the dirt and dusty white stones that line the parking lot. I kick some of the stones as I walk.

So I guess I’ve been thinking about college like this: It’s fine for other people to go to regular colleges, but not me or my friends. That thought kind of makes me sound like an elitist asshole. Is that how I act?