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It’s finally here, the last week of classes before finals begin. There’s lots to do. I have to practice my ice sublimination, Dottie and I have to present our biometrics project tomorrow, there are exams to study for and I have to meet with Mrs. Soulsby, my advisor, to schedule next quarter’s classes. One other thing is that I must make sure that Eric doesn’t forget me over the break. I’m hoping to invite him to have lunch with me some time this week. He may turn me down, but I at least have to ask him.

Today was not the day for it, however. I was way too flustered after E.F.M. class. Mr. Horitt was in his usual ill-tempered mood. We were each called upon to stand in front of the class to demostrate various concepts of field manipulation. One girl was told to bend a field around a volume of water to create a small waterspout. She had some trouble getting it started, and Mr. Horitt grew impatient. After her third attempt, he told her not to bother anymore and to go sit down. “How do you expect me to pass you when you can’t do a simple think like that,” he snapped.

Another student was made to calculate the energy loss of a field moving through rock. He started writing on the chalkboard with Mr. Horitt standing over him. “NO, NO, NO,” he suddenly exclaimed, vigorously erasing the boy’s calculations. He called yet another student to try it, but that one too failed. Mr. Horitt kept calling people until finally one girl was able to do it. She seemed drenched in sweat by the time she had finished.

Then it was my turn to face him. I was instructed to morph a block of granite into a sphere, which can be quite difficult to accomplish due to the great hardness of such a stone. But, we had learned that it was possible to do if you understood the correct formulae and kept your concentration steady. I took hold of the phasing sigil and raised it to the stone picturing in my mind the shape I wanted to create. Mr. Horitt stood over me for what felt like hours waiting for something to happen, but nothing occurred. “Just what have you been doing all quarter,” he said, “equalize the molecular balance according to your calculations.” I could feel my palms sweating and my face getting hot. The tension seemed unbearable, but I wouldn’t give up, I couldn’t. “Stop guessing at the factors and concentrate,” Mr. Horitt barked.

“I’m trying!,” I heard myself say in a loud voice. That’s when it happened, a flash of blue light. I felt the tips of my fingers go numb as a bolt of electricity leaped across the room shattering the granite block and busting a few overhead lights. The entire class jumped, and some even screamed. If I hadn’t been so tense, I probably would have screamed too. I had never done anything like that before, and I could hardly believe that it happened.

Mr. Horitt quickly collected himself, letting out a long slow breath. Then he stared at me in silence with a quizical expression on his face. “Sit” was all he said to me. He was probably too angry with me to say much else. I sat in my seat hot with embaressment for the rest of the class. After we were dismissed, I could feel Mr. Horitt’s eyes on me as I walked out into the hallway.