Jacob had a gruelling training session with Tanaka the next day but other than that he didn't see the transfer student, not even in class.

Tanaka had told him to focus on his match against Victor on the weekend while he ironed out a way to make the divination spell more efficient at the cost of some intensity, citing that opening a pocket dimension would require quite a high amount of magic and that they could make the spell more efficient by casting it in such a way that it didn't pick up anything below a certain threshold. He'd launched into an explanation about low-level and high-level filters and something called a band-pass filter but Jacob cut him off because he didn't understand a lick of it.

However, it seemed that life didn't want him to focus on his match, as they got their midterms in the three type courses back Thursday, along with Magical Basics, which warranted a non-optional meetup of the Bourbon gang to discuss, rant, whine, flaunt, and make excuses about their marks.

Camilla wailed about Magical Basics and Ms Sterling at length, but the rest of them weren't very receptive since she'd "only gotten a 93%," which was her lowest mark.

The rest of them hadn't faired that stellar, but apart from Grace, whose marks were in a neat pack around 65% apart from her Decomp which was a low 80. Archie had aced Decomp (98%, which tied Camilla's mark) and Magical Basics (91%). Every time Archie got a good mark it surprised Jacob. His attendance was low and he didn't care all that much. But, Jacob was beginning to genuinely understand in his heart that those things didn't matter as long as you performed come game day.

Jacob's highest mark was, unsurprisingly, Magical Basics at 88%. It wasn't a great mark for him in high school, but he was pretty proud that he'd scored that high whilst coming from a non-magical family and having had a recent introduction to the world of magic. What more could you ask? He'd have to thank Malachi. MW Club was a big part of his success there.

Cons and Prod Basics were 84% and 81% respectively, both of which he was happy with. Decomp Basics, however, was a gutting 69%. The only upside was that it elicited a chuckle and several jokes from Archie. He supposed is could have been worse, but he'd never gotten a mark that bad in his life and quite frankly it was demoralizing.

A minor consolation was that Blake—whose Prod and Cons marks were a little higher than Jacob's—had only gotten a 72%, and Mrs Idlewild told the class that the overall average was only 67%. So, there was that.

They were just waiting on Intro, which Prof Muesli had said he'd give out at the end of class on Friday. Jacob tried not to think about it, but with how poorly he'd done on Decomp he couldn't help but be anxious. He'd thought Intro would be his worst, but he was praying it wouldn't be any lower than 69%.

"That wraps up class for today," Prof Muesli said. He reached under his lecture podium and pulled out a stack of white papers and slapped them down on the desk. He patted them with one hand. "I have your midterms here. Please, don't forget to do the readings this week. Judging by the marks, some of you haven't been keeping up with them. The class average was 70%. Regardless, they're all yours. Go through them in an orderly fashion, please."

He stepped away and the floodgates opened. Students poured down to the front, scouring through the pile for their midterms.

"Let's wait," Archie said, halting Jacob in his tracks. "Let the guppies feed first."

They sat in their seats until they couldn't any longer, then joined the throng.

Jacob parsed through the midterms, recognizing some of the names and wincing at the corresponding marks. He found Blake's (79%, not bad), and Grace's (54%, ouch), then his own. He blinked, doing a double take at the mark: 86%.

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"Whoa..." Jacob muttered, pulling it out of the pile and stepping away to an empty, nearby desk. 86? He flipped through the midterm. He'd done alright on the short answer questions. About what he'd expected. A couple airballs, a couple half-correct. Good, but not 86 good. He flipped to the last page. A bright red, circled 20/20 accentuated the bottom of his long-form essay, along with an accompanying message scrawled in red ink:

I have a rule that I only give out one 100% on the long-form essay each year. This year, it's yours. If I were to nitpick: you've got some grammar and syntax errors, along with a fair amount of run-on sentences, but these aren't so important on an in-class essay.

What matters is the content. You've done an immaculate job of translating your own experiences to the world of magic, analyzing them, and forming a unique and substantial case. Anyone can reiterate something they've read in slightly different words and call it a persuasive essay, and until one reaches the Doctorate level, most do. You received the 100% because you made your own argument and drew your own conclusions based off your own experience and analysis. In other words, you thought for yourself. Congratulations.

"How'd you do?" Camilla leaned over him. "Wait, 20/20?!"

Jacob flipped back to the cover page. "86 overall. You?"

"85," Camilla ground her teeth. She snatched his paper without asking. "Let me see that!"

She scanned his essay. Blake, Archie, and Grace came over.

"How'd y'all do?" Blake asked.

"Mr Caibo here got an 86, and a 100 on the essay," Camilla hissed.

"Whoa! 100?" Blake asked. "Jeez man, I got like a 70."

"He said he only gives out one 100 each year," Jacob said, a little smug.

"Well, well. Good showing, then!" Archie slapped him on the back. "Didn't make off too poorly myself. 82 on the essay. He said my diction is 'something to be desired.'"

"Nice."

"Wait," Camilla barked. She shook Jacob's essay in his face. "Your argument was that the Regulation Order should reveal itself to the world?"

Jacob shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense."

"That got you a 100? That's insanity."

"Prof Muesli liked it," Jacob defended, a little taken aback at the nastiness in her tone.

Camilla growled. "Guess I'll just be a radical extremist on the final exam, then. So stupid."

Jacob blinked. He was used to Camilla getting angry, but not at something like this.

"Come off it, Camilla," Archie said. "It's go big or go home, and Jacob went big."

They migrated out to the lobby, commandeered a couch and three chairs, and continued arguing about each other's essays. Camilla still seemed overly salty about it all. After some time, they were interrupted by a presence.

Maria Levesque had come over at some point and was standing near their group. Jacob was the first to notice her.

"Oh," he said, turning in his chair. "Hi."

Her wavy black hair was tied back in a ponytail that reached down to the small of her back. He was surprised to see her. His match against Victor was tomorrow. What could she possibly want?

"Hi," Maria said in a small voice.

"Where's Victor?" Grace asked.

"He's in the training rooms," Maria said. She turned and addressed Jacob directly. She clearly had trouble making eye contact with people. "Victor asked me to ask you if you would join us for a training session."

"What?" Jacob asked, thoroughly baffled. "You mean like now?"

"Yes."

"But we're fighting tomorrow."

"He knows. He wants to talk to you before the match," she dipped her head. "We're in training room four. The attendant knows to let you in." She scurried off down the hall before Jacob could get another word in.

Jacob turned back to the gang. "What the fuck?"

"They're odd," Grace said. "Not just kinda odd. Odd."

"Will you take Victor up on it?" Archie asked.

Jacob was still bewildered. "I don't know. Seems weird. It sounds stupid, but I'm worried they're gonna jump me."

"Nonsense."

"Why else would he want to talk?"

Archie waved his hands. "Victor wouldn't do that. He's a stand up man. I'll vouch for him."

"What do you think he wants, then?"

Archie rubbed his stubbly chin. "I'm not sure. He takes fighting very seriously. He may just want to chat."

Jacob mulled it over.

"I don't see how you have anything to lose," Archie said. "If you want, I'll go see what he wants."

"No," Jacob stood. "Okay, I'm gonna go. If you don't hear from me within the hour, they jumped me." He said it as a joke, but no one laughed.

"I'll walk you over," Blake said, rising out of his chair.

"You sure?" Jacob asked. "Might be a while."

Blake shrugged his backpack on. "I got readings to do."