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How Not To Become Lunch: 83 - Wake Up On Time
Another Monday, another trip through the digestive deathtrap that was high school. Honestly, though, considering he’d spent so many years essentially locked away from the world, Jack was starting to adjust to it pretty well. The long break of the weekend did throw him off his rhythm a bit- this last one feeling particularly long for some reason, probably due to Sarabeth’s very eventful party- but it had only taken the marked boy that morning to settle back into the increasingly familiar pattern. And with Fiona around to make sure he didn’t fill in for anyone’s missing breakfast while he was getting back into the routine, he was now feeling fairly confident he could survive without her at least long enough to make it to lunchtime.
That is, assuming he could make it through his next class- without going through his teacher. It was ironic, really. The vampire who taught his math class seemed to treat him mostly fair, despite his tempting mark, the dragoness who taught history almost seemed to actually like him from what he could tell. In the end, it was his magic class, the most important subject, the entire reason he’d started coming to school in the first place, which held his most dangerous teacher. And not even a natural-born predator, but another human.
So it was with some returning nerves that he found himself returning to the foreboding classroom, stepping inside and glancing around. He knew better than to fully stop just in front of the door, he’d already seen far too many other kids get snagged and scarfed in that very spot, but he did slow up for a step or two as he cautiously took in his surroundings.
Many of his classmates had already arrived, having traveled together in their own little cliques, chatting at their desks, or while standing around the walls for those whose seats were too far apart. Jack spotted his own chair and started toward it, glancing for a moment at the vaguely recognizable kid who had been given Ozzy’s old spot.
Try as he might to keep focused, he couldn’t help but frown. They hadn’t spoken for a week now. He was pretty sure his former classmate had started sitting with the other advanced magic students at lunch- his best guess, since the other boy never seemed to be around their usual table. At least they still both shared math, giving Jack that minimum comfort of knowing his scornful friend was still alive…
His unwanted thoughts were interrupted when he chanced upon another familiar face, just a few seats away from his own. Weighing the risks, both social and mortal, Jack decided to take the short detour. The other boy did seem pretty nervous, after all. Though from the previous times they’d met, Jack was starting to wonder if that was just the usual for him.
“Hey, Arin,” the marked boy greeted socially.
“Made it through the weekend, huh? Good.” He gave an anxious, perhaps vaguely relieved sort of mini-smile. As if the fact that a practical walking snack had managed to survive those two days made him feel better about his own odds.
“Yeah, somehow,” Jack half-joked. He decided not to mention that he’d spent most of that time at a vampire’s birthday party; if Harry was anything to go by, the subject would only make nerves even more tense. So he picked the less-stressful of his two weekend activities. “How’d you do on your sleeping potion?”
Arin tensed up a bit and Jack quietly regretted his choice. Just because it was marginally less stressful than a houseful of hungry predators, didn’t mean that Ms. Caster’s homework was a pleasant topic.
“I think I did well in the end, but I had to start over a few times,” the other boy admitted.
“Oh yeah, me too.” Jack smiled sympathetically.
“I tried again and again and again before I realized I couldn’t just lick a spoon or spit into the pot. I mean, how was anyone supposed to know that ‘drool’ was such a specific requirement, right? How long did you spend trying to figure that out?”
“Actually I, uh, did know that part.”
Arin’s anxiety was briefly overshadowed by surprise. “How?”
“From my aunt, I guess. I think I asked her once why she kept ‘drool’ and ‘spit’ in separate vials and she gave me some big explanation.” Jack only realized now, in retrospect, where that particular bit of knowledge had come from. He couldn’t remember close to half of whatever explanation his aunt had given him, but apparently sleeping in her potion ingredients closet had helped him pick up a few things.
“Was it the lavender that got you, then? The calcium and magnesium were already powders, so I thought it just made sense to try and grind the lavender too.”
“No, I just put it in. You usually add plant ingredients whole unless the recipe has special instructions.” This time, Jack heard himself, as memories of his aunt hurriedly flinging herbs into a cauldron flashed through his mind.
“But then what did you have trouble with? The rest was easy,” Arin asked, perplexed.
“Well, I stirred it too hard once. Another time I almost woke it up by putting it on a stove…” Jack glanced away, embarrassed, as his classmate’s eyes widened at that last one.
“Didn’t you take your time and plan things out? The preparations were so clear and simple. You should have been a lot more careful. I was as careful as I could be and I still almost failed. I thought for sure I’d gotten it right on Saturday, but when I tested it the next morning it didn’t work at all. It’s a good thing this was weekend homework and she gave us enough time to try again. I was pretty relieved when I saw it work the second time. Bet you were too, huh?”
Now it was Jack’s turn to tense up. He’d waited until Sunday to do his and hadn’t even tried to test it that morning. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to try. It wasn’t like he’d left himself enough time to give it another go if he’d somehow screwed it up. He gulped nervously.
“By the way, what did you use for your ‘soft’ ingredient? I wasn’t really sure what to pick with such a vague requirement.” The direct question jolted the marked boy back to attention.
“Oh, uh, actually I had-”
“Alright children, take your seats, it’s time to begin.” Ms. Caster made the announcement in her typical teacher voice, but there was always something off about the way the witch said ‘children’, almost like it was really a different word in disguise. ‘Snacks’ perhaps? After all, it was one period until lunch, and the predatory mage had shown up with a conspicuously empty belly.
Arin instantly turned his full attention to the woman, staring fixedly, as if even diverting his gaze to blink might somehow be a punishable offense. Jack nodded agreeingly and walked quickly to his own desk- careful not to run where it wasn’t allowed.
“Now, where to begin? Where to begin?” the teacher contemplated aloud as her class quietly settled into place. “Ah, yes, last weekend’s homework. Of course. The sleeping potions. Why don’t you all bring them out onto your desks so I can take a look.”
Cautiously, Jack reached down toward his bag. Everyone knew the rules about eating during class, but the marked boy also knew that one of his predatory classmates being punished wouldn’t bring him back from the digestive abyss. Thankfully, no one made a move on him as he took out the small flask he’d prepared that morning.
“Good, good,” Ms. Caster nodded, methodically surveying the room with a discerning eye. “Seems like everyone put in the effort. Show of hands, who’s confident that their brew actually works?”
There was a noticeable hesitation in the air before a few of the brighter students in the room raised their hands, followed slowly by several others when nothing bad seemed to happen. Jack couldn’t help but feel the question was dangerously loaded, and he struggled along with most of his classmates to decide whether Caster would be more likely to pounce on dishonesty or overconfidence. And beyond that, Jack couldn’t even decide how confident he was. He’d followed all the instructions, hadn’t he? But he hadn’t tested it like Arin. For all he knew, that vial he’d been carefully carrying all morning wasn’t even worth the meat on his bones.
“Well, I think it’s best we find out for sure,” the witch replied to her silent crowd, revealing a little smirk.
Having left his hand down in indecision, Jack wasn’t sure if he’d made himself more or less of a target. Though for him in particular, it probably didn’t matter; there was hardly ever a bigger target. His teacher pressed on regardless.
“A potion is only as good as your skill in using it. So, we’ll be testing not only how well you crafted your brew, but your knowledge of dosage as well. Now, normally I wouldn’t tolerate sleeping in my class, but today I’ll make a small exception. Five minutes. Each of you needs to take enough of your own potion to put you to sleep for five minutes.”
A wave of unease spread through the students, Jack very much included, as they began to understand the terrifying task ahead. Sleeping in school? It was the kind of thing you learned pretty quickly not to do- except for the few who never got the chance to learn from their mistake. Not only did teachers hate it, but if you were human it also left you completely vulnerable to any nearby predator who fancied an easy lunch.
“If you don’t fall asleep, you fail the entire assignment. And don’t think you’ll be able to fake it,” Ms. Caster warned. “If you stay out for too long and start missing my class, well, let’s just say the end result for either might end up being the same.” The witch gave that hungry look Jack had gotten so used to seeing on the faces of predators. She let her words sink in before continuing. “I’ll give you all a moment to prepare your doses, but no peeking at your books. You’ve had plenty of chance to study.”
Jack looked down fearfully at his vial. The potion he’d been proud to display just a few seconds ago now gave off the air of a deadly poison he was reluctant to touch. But as other students began picking up their brews, Jack forced himself to do the same. He couldn’t afford to freeze up in indecision now; he needed to stay levelheaded and think this through.
Body mass, the relative concentration of the ingredients, his baseline mental state, his self-awareness of the potion’s intended effects; all of that would play a part. How much to take? Would it be better to err on the side of less, or more? Too little, and he’d be drowsy at best, but more than awake enough to watch his terrifying descent into the gullet of his ‘disappointed’ teacher. But too much, and he might simply never open his eyes again. Or worse, he’d get one last look at the world, only to end up reawakening already packed helplessly away inside the witch’s hot, cramped stomach.
“Alright, that’s long enough,” Ms. Caster decided aloud, looking over at the wall clock. “You have ten seconds until the test begins.”
Heart pounding, Jack unsealed his vial and reluctantly raised it to his lips. Looking out over the unremarkable classroom for what might be the last time, he listened to the countdown.
“Three, two, one, drink.”
The second hand ticked into the next minute, and Jack carefully tilted the vial. The cool liquid trickled into his mouth, a strange flavor dancing across his tongue that he could only really describe as ‘soothing’.
“Bottoms up.”
The words drew his attention, and that’s when he realized Ms. Caster had turned to look directly at him. Flashing that hungry, scheming little smile. His heart leapt and his hand twitched, jostling the potion mid-sip. He tore the vial away from his mouth before any more could splash inside. He took a shaky breath through his nose, put the container back down onto his desk, and then with all the bravery he could muster, he swallowed.
*gulp*
…
Jack realized his eyes were closed. And for whatever reason, maybe the absence of the familiar sensation of his bed, that registered as alarming. His eyelids twitched open, but just a tad, weighed down by a heavy sleep that stubbornly clung to him.
He felt something on his face, something that seemed to roll by. Something warm and sort of moist. He blinked as his eyes opened gradually wider, a strange scent drifting into his nose. Colors. He started to see colors. Reds, pinks, glinting whites, shadowy crimsons. A rounded shape, framed by distant, vague forms that were quickly disappearing from view. His eyes focused.
Jack gasped, flinched, and in a frantic rush of adrenaline and fear yelled out:
“I’m awake! I’m awake! I’m awake!”
Directly in front of his face, the gaping maw pulsed, as another hot, damp, hungry breath wafted past his face. The jaws stretched inhumanly wide, with some teeth already passing out of sight as they reached around his head, glistening tongue extending out to taste him as a large bead of drool dangled precariously from its tip.
Jack, frozen in fear, felt his previously calm heart suddenly burst into a thunderous gallop. He gripped the chair he only now realized he was sitting in and took jagged, shaky breaths. His exhales eddied between the taught, flexing cheeks he was staring past, washing right back over him as they mingled with exhales coming from beyond that quivering, threatening gullet.
But it grew no closer.
After a long, lingering moment, an unsatisfied sigh filled his ears, the humid gust rushing across his face as the imposing jaws reluctantly retreated, relaxing back into the deceptively human form that was his magic teacher’s face.
She glanced with visible annoyance at the clock on her wall. Jack stole a quick look as well, just as the second hand ticked by into the next minute.
“That’s five minutes, class,” she announced, sounding a bit grumpy. “If you’re awake, raise your hand.”
Jack instantly threw his hand up, so fast it almost hurt, heart still pounding.
The witch shot him another annoyed look, before shifting her gaze somewhere behind him. He caught that hungry smirk gradually returning to her face as she started to walk past him. He didn’t turn to see where she went, not even when he started hearing the meaty gulps and gurgles. He just lowered his hand and tried to breathe, as he worked to remove the vivid image of the human predator’s gaping throat from his mind.
As he sat there, silently appreciating the fresh air in his lungs, a tiny touch of something against his hand made him flinch. Eyes darting over, he noticed a small scrap of paper that had somehow appeared on his desk. Amidst the sounds of his teacher’s lunch, he inconspicuously shifted his fingers and picked it up, looking it over.
On the back side, he found a short, scribbled message. “Glad you made it.” He recognized the handwriting- the last one of these notes had saved his life. He turned to glance a few seats away, and gave Arin a little friendly smile, despite his lingering stress. The other boy gave a similarly weary little smile in return as Jack turned away, obviously dealing with his own leftover anxiety.
Despite his still pounding heart, Jack’s little smile remained for a while. Stress was always easier with a friend.