Free Scythe Does Matter by Gina X. Grant Page B

and it was down to Tiffany and me.
    “Next question.”
    I focused so hard I could barely concentrate on the question. It wasn’t only that my own future rode on this and that I’d get my own personal tornado if I couldn’t answer. No, I was afraid I might let down my team, disappoint my professor and Dante. Not to mention endanger Aunt Carey’s life.
    Of course, if I didn’t pass this time, I could always repeat the course with Crystal. But by the time I graduated—assuming I did that time—my aunt would have already become Conrad’s next victim. I couldn’t fail. I couldn’t. If I failed . . .
    “Could you repeat the question, Professor?”
    Question? What question? It’s a good thing Tiffany asked. I’d been too wound up to pay attention.
    The professor looked up, his sharp gaze dancing back and forth from Tiffany to me and finally landing on me. He gave one of those little coughs that’s more about disapproval than phlegm.
    “One more time, then. Please pay attention, everyone. Once you have received your scythe, what is the one thing you are not to do?”
    The pause that followed was the kind of silence that’s comprised of shuffling feet and averted gazes. Even those examinees who had already answered their questions looked puzzled.
    “Come on now, people. This was in the handouts.” Professor Schotz tapped his foot. Dante tapped the hourglass. I looked over and noticed the sand was rising—actually flowing upward from the bottom bulb back to the top. Was this the result of something Dante had done or were those crazy time engineers and their wacky time machine at it again? Then Dante winked. I would so thank him later.
    That’s when Tiffany raised her hand. It was a little tentative and I had to admire her bravery. If one of us didn’t answer, we’d both fail.
    The professor looked a little surprised, if the gaping mouth and eyes like saucers were anything to go by. He coughed again, although this time I think it was to cover his shock.
    “Very well, Tiffany. You go, girl.” The audience tittered and he looked embarrassed. One more cough before he repeated, “What is the one thing you should not do with your scythe?”
    Tiffany scrunched her face up, looking adorably focused—and also like she really, really wasn’t sure of her answer. “Um, you should never, uh . . . cross the streams?”
    “Cross the . . . ?” The professor’s eyebrows arched up his forehead. “And right after that we’ll use the force, shall we? No, that is incorrect. I’m sorry, Ms. Tiffany, but you’re going to have to repeat the classroom portion of Reaper training along with your friend.”
    Tiffany forced a brave little smile. Her lower lip didn’t tremble though, nor did her eyes tear up. In fact, she looked relieved and maybe a little pleased.
    “That’s okay,” she said, voice calm and even. Her words were for the professor but her gaze was fixed on her remaining buddy, Amber. Why did she not sound upset about having to repeat the course? After all, she wasn’t exactly academic material . . .
    Suddenly I got it and for the first time all semester, I kind of admired her. She had allowed herself to fail so Crystal didn’t have to go through the classroom work again by herself. Amber was with people and beings she already knew but Crystal would be with total strangers . . . some probably stranger than others. Tiffany had made this huge sacrifice for her friend and at the same time given me more time to think. She could have said nothing and then I’d have to repeat the semester, too.
    Now I just needed to focus enough to make use of the time she’d given me. I know I’d heard this before, but what was it?
    Professor Schotz tapped Tiffany with the hammer—a lot lighter than he had Crystal—and the whirlwind started up again. Within seconds, Tiffany was whisked through the wall to join her friend.
    I had to admit I felt a little envious. I’d certainly never made any friends in life