Gigi was still puzzling over the summer. It was weird. It wasn’t like her, and she didn’t know what had happened and it was messed up. She hadn’t told her friends about it, because Vi was whiny and annoying and likely to make a big fuss and drama and Gigi did not have the patience for that shiz. She hadn’t told Elliot coz he would have laughed in her face, or made some dumbass remark, and she would have had to slap the goofy grin off his face, and honestly she didn’t have the energy for that. She hadn’t old Sadie coz honestly Gigi was disappointed in herself, and she guessed Sadie might be disappointed in her, too, and as her least annoying female friend, that was not okay.
So whatever, Gigi just buried the nonsense that had, or, more accurately, had not occured that summer, and left Herefordshire out of her mind where it belonged. At RMI she was a witch, and an Aquila, and nobody needed to know that some hot Muggle had been right there, and there was the opportunity to kiss him, and the age difference wasn’t even creepy any more, and Gigi hadn’t done anything. Luke was right there waiting to be kissed (or, he was there, anyway, and what teenaged boy wasn’t just waiting around to be kissed?) and Gigi hadn’t done anything. What the pineapple was wrong with her? Ugh, whatever, it didn’t even matter. Luke wasn’t all that hot anyway.
Not like Professor Anders. Now that dude was smoking, even if he was a professor, which meant uber geek or paedophile, but Gigi was only looking, so who gave a crap? She’d ditched her robes before class (her standard these days. Hardly any professors actually cared about robes any more, and even those who did seemed tired of giving Georgina detention), so her pleated purple skirt and black crop top were on view, matching adorably with knee-high striped purple and black socks, and black Mary Janes with an unnecessary heel (both because the heel was absurdly high for shoes that were usually flat-ish, and because Gigi was getting absurdly tall for her age. She blamed her father. He was too tall to be allowed. The freak).
Georgina had no idea what Anders was saying - she rarely did. He was too pretty for her to actually listen to his words - but she did register Sadie next to her, saying, “Okay, so how exactly did wizards figure out phoenix tears could work as the antidote, though?” Gigi grinned. Sadie went into more detail, so Gigi was laughing by the time her friend concluded, “Wizards are weird.””
“Weirdest pineappling people on the planet,” Gigi agreed. “You should get a phoenix and find out what other stuff those tears can fix,” she suggested. “Or even how you make the bird cry in the first place. Do you tell it mean things, or pluck its feathers? Oh my god, are wand cores made from making phoenixes cry? Phoenixes…?” she distracted herself, titling her head to one side in contemplation. “Is that the right plural?”