Lucien leaned back in his seat, a small smile touching his lips. In his mind, the idea was perfect—it gave him something to focus on and a way to keep track of the lessons without relying on the chaos swirling around him.
Meanwhile, Felix looked as if the floor had just disappeared beneath his feet. "Notes?" he muttered, his face draining of color. His mind immediately spiraled into panic. If he wrote everything down… what if his mom found his notebook? His eyes darted nervously, imagining her flipping through the pages like a curious child, giggling, then—oh no—what if she ATE it? She'd done stranger things before. After all, his mom was more childish than him. Even his terrifyingly strong dad couldn't stop her when she was in one of her "playful moods."
By the time Alina clapped her hands to start the lesson, half the class looked ready for battle, the other half ready for a nap, and poor Felix already picturing the tragic funeral of his future notes.
