Seventh year. Huh.
Other than a few hazy memories of the New York City apartment—he remembered a rainbow xylophone—most of Drew’s conscious life had been at RMI. He’d been coming to opening feasts since he was four, and today was his last one. He’d be somewhere else on September 1st for the rest of his life.
He’d spent a lot of the summer outside of RMI, at the Burnhams’ or at Marissa’s huge Boston house (which seemed even huger now that everyone except Marissa and her girlfriend had moved out) or, for a week in July, at a thunderbird retreat with Jessie and some of her magizoologist friends. Last week he’d helped Remy move into her dorm at Duke, and they’d walked around Durham and gotten giant milkshakes at a cafe and it was nice. Remy was gonna have a great time in college, he was sure.
When Drew wasn’t gone he’d been seeing a therapist on Pearl Street—Dad had insisted on that, but even if he hadn’t Drew would’ve asked for one. You didn’t just go back to normal after finding out your ex-girlfriend, who was also one of the people you trusted the most, and who still lived in the same building as you, had poisoned you. And he liked his therapist. Levi was cool, and he didn’t talk down to Drew, and he didn’t make Drew talk about stuff that he didn’t want to talk about (although he did have a way of making Drew want to talk about stuff he hadn’t wanted to talk about).
So he felt ready for the opening feast, and the fact that Darlene was going to be there. One thing he was not ready for was that his name would be announced as Head Student. Anssi made sense, but Drew had been so sure his roommate would get the other spot. To start with, Huburt had never punched anyone, and he had better grades than Drew, and he wasn’t the son of two staff members so no one could be accused of nepotism. But then again Drew was involved in a lot of clubs, and he did try to help out younger students, and it had been a while since he accidentally fought someone, and maybe Toby was trying to be nice to Drew after everything last year.
Studiously ignoring the Lyra bonfire, he collected his badge, pinning it to the front of his silver robes (it was his last opening feast, of course he was wearing the robes) when he got back to his seat. He felt weirdly better than he had a few minutes ago. He was a Head Student. His last feast was starting. RMI was home for one more year. He was going to make the most of it.
One thing Levi had suggested when Drew said he was dreading everyone getting back to school was making an RMI bucket list: a list of things he wanted to do in his last year as a student. So far Drew had stopping someone from making a goal on Cetus (he had initially put winning a Quidditch game but Levi pointed out that that wasn’t really up to him) and writing a front page article for Rocky Voices (which was entirely up to him, but his editorial code wouldn’t let him put anything that wasn’t front-page-worthy on the cover, so it worked). Two things was not enough for the list, though. Maybe he could crowdsource it. Levi always said it was okay to get help on his therapy homework. “Hey,” he said to the student beside him, “what are some things you want to do here before you graduate?”