The noise in the lab was deafening due to the chattering students. A horrified Victor sat at his chemistry workstation reading the practical. According to the instructions, his group would conduct and document a combustion reaction. They expected him to use methane gas! 

"This is absolute rubbish," he muttered.

The only logical explanation Victor could think of was the school decided to burn down the old building and put up a new one. To avoid any misconceptions about how to pay for it, the school board had devised a nefarious plan involving him as the student who "accidentally" blew up the old facility. That way, they could sue him for the cost of a new one.

To worsen matters, one of his current partners had outright refused to work with him. Destiny Green stepped back from the scarred table, a hand covering her braids as if protecting them. "Na-uh, Vic. It cost me a hundred dollars to get these box braids. I can't have you burning them off." Destiny showed him her temple. "See? My edges just started growing back from the last time you screwed up."

Victor rolled his eyes. "What a load of cack!"

"A what?"

"Never mind."

Destiny shrugged, then placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I like you, Vic, but I can't get edges and eyebrows to grow back quickly. Sorry, but I'm rotating out of this sh─" She paused at his raised eyebrow. "This clusterf─" Victor's brow furrowed. Destiny sighed. "This nightmare." She picked up her backpack and sauntered over to the table with her new lab partners.

Victor sat on his stool dejected, glaring at the equipment for the experiment with increasing dread. No one in their right mind wanted him as a partner with his reputation. He might as well stumble through it alone unless the teacher forced someone to work with him. His other partner, Jake Hacker, had schmoozed himself into Lisa McKenzie's giggling group of girls. Victor shook his head. Lisa could do so much better.

Well, he'd only blow himself up this time. At least he'd get some rest.

He almost jumped when a hand tapped his shoulder. A feminine voice asked, "Victor, mind if we work with you? Our partner transferred out."

Victor wanted to grasp the unknown hand and bring it to his lips. "Bless you, love, for not letting me die alone." With a chuckle, he turned to face his latest victims.

She was tall, pleasing to the eye, with thick fair hair cut into layers by an expert hand and perfect makeup. The girl wore a simple sweater dress and high-heeled boots that screamed money. But what mattered most—she was alive and breathing.

Maddox King stood next to her, glaring at him.

"Do you always greet your new lab partners with such enthusiasm?" she asked, brown eyes dancing with humor.

"No offense," he said. "But if you were eight feet tall with a beard and antennas, I'd have greeted you the same." The girl looked familiar, but Victor couldn't place her. He stood and gave her a courtly bow, causing the girl to simper. "You know my name. And yours...?"

"Gabriella Francesca Saint, but everyone calls me Gabby. My cousin Megan dances at your studio." The girl flicked her hair and posed for a brief second. "You and I talked for a bit at the summer showcase."

Her words jogged his memory. He remembered her now—Gabby, the Instagram influencer. She'd tried to waylay him several times for a chat and even tried to take pictures for her account as he bolted off stage for costume changes—during the show. Security had to escort her back to her seat several times. 

"Ah yes! I remember you now, love."

"Wonderful! You know Maddox, right?" Gabby gave a small giggle and turned to her companion. "Maddox, this is—"

"I know who he is," Maddox replied, still glaring.

Victor frowned as the magic flared at the mention of Maddox's name. Calm it down, mate. Don't let the magic cost you a worse grade!

Maddox turned away, taking a seat as Mrs. Garcia called the class to order. The chatter ceased, and the instructor spent several minutes explaining the task and answering questions before the students started the experiment. "Remember, you have forty-five minutes to complete the labs. Let's get through this with no accidents." Mrs. Garcia's gaze went straight to Victor, who gave her a cheerful grin.

Gabby placed a well-manicured hand on Victor's shoulder. "Will you fill the beakers with water for the first part?" The girl hadn't batted a false eyelash at his much-deserved reputation. Victor hoped he could keep this one unsinged. 

He filled the beakers and wondered about working amicably with Maddox. The bloke seemed quite taken with Kristy and considered him the competition. He turned off the taps, wishing the genie had been more vocal in her disdain toward Maddox. Usually, after one attempt, most guys steered clear of her as Kristy never minced her words.

Maddox smirked when Victor returned. "Let's see if you truly are the master of disasters, little ballerina."

Clenching his teeth, he placed the containers on the table. "My name is Victor."

Thanks to Gabby's attentive nature, there were no accidents. Victor followed her instructions carefully, doing his best to ignore Maddox's catty remarks and veiled insults. He noticed the experiment made more sense when his fashionista of a partner explained it. She didn't mind questions and stopped him when he almost set fire to the wrong substance. Victor admired her quick and efficient work ethic, even as she flirted.

But not even halfway through the lab, he'd had enough of Maddox and his demeaning comments. Victor switched off the gas and turned to the big blond. "Look, mate, what's your problem?"

Maddox put down his pen. "You almost burned me twice, little ballerina."

"Almost doesn't mean he did, so calm down." Gabriella flipped her hair off her shoulder while logging in the last observations. "You did good, Victor. Let's set up the second part."

"I'm on it, Carys." He stopped, then smiled at the girl. "Sorry, I mean, Gabby. A-a-a lovely name, by the way."

Gabby simpered at him.

Victor cleaned up the remains of the first experiment while Maddox set up the second. "I'm thankful we came out of this alive, love." He gave Gabby a brief smile as he tossed the refuse into the bin.

"You know, I adore British accents." Gabriella rested her chin on her hand as she watched him. "I've wanted to get to know you since I saw you dance in the talent show freshman year."

He groaned. "I've been trying to forget that dreadful day since freshman year."

"We should put that handsome face of yours to work for us. We can run for the Festival court together. I've got over fifty thousand followers on Instagram, and many of them attend Franklin." Gabby eyed him as she played with a lock of golden hair. "We could rule the school, Victor."

"No way. I—"

Maddox cut into the conversation. "You dance for money, like a stripper or something? I heard you work in a men's club."

Gabby sighed. "You're so rude, Maddox."

But Victor burst into laughter at the thought of their receptionist, the innocent Ally, scheduling raunchy acts for grumpy teachers in G-strings. "I teach ballroom at a reputable studio. It's policy to keep our clothes on."

Maddox flexed his muscles as he examined Victor. "You got an athletic body type. You aren't skinny, but you aren't bulky either. Shouldn't dancers be lean?"

"In my line of work, you pump iron with more reps and less weight. Your partners get cheesed off if you drop them." Victor turned the gas on, placing the gas tube in the beaker of water. He only had to get through twenty more minutes with this git.

"You wear pretty costumes, makeup, and stuff. So, are you gay or bi?" asked Maddox.

Victor gazed at the bully. "What does sexuality have to do with dancing?" The two were like chalk and cheese. "I don't understand."

Maddox's lip curled. "Real men don't consider dancing as manly, little ballerina."

"Ah, I see the problem. You're ignorant." Victor pursed his lips. "Western society believes the stereotype that men who dance are effeminate, gay, or weak. Or we're pretty boys frightfully scared of soiling ourselves in contact sports." He narrowed his eyes, keeping his temper and the fluttering magic in check. "Men who dance brave the bullies, the stereotyping, and the hurts because, be it ballroom or ballet, we're happy doing what we love. And we love to dance."

"Well said." Gabriella covered Victor's hand with hers and leaned toward him, batting her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, Victor. Maddox didn't mean to imply anything nasty or wrong about dancing." She turned to her glowering partner. "Maddox, behave."

Victor forced a smile and moved his hand. "No worries. He asked a question, and I answered."

Huffing, he turned back to the lab. Maddox seemed to lose interest in the conversation as he wet his big hand thoroughly, slipping it into the container of methane bubbles. Gabby lit the butane torch on his mark, causing the bubbles to ignite. After recording the results, they switched tasks.

"Jackson said you don't date and hang out with blacks and nerds. Why hog Kristy's time when she's got better opportunities?" Maddox licked his lips. "She's prime real estate. I get hard just looking at her."

"She's not that hot." Gabby snorted. "And don't sexualize girls like that. It's demeaning."

Anger rolled through Victor's system like a tidal wave. The thought of the genie with this racist buffoon made him nauseous. He pinched his nose and closed his eyes as he sought to calm the magical column that had grown hotter. "I doubt Kristy would look your way."

Maddox sneered. "She's special to you, ballerina?"

Kristy had forgiven him for the fish incident. Hopefully, slow and steady meant winning the race—and the girl. "That is none of your concern."

"He's right, Maddox." Gabby frowned. "Jackson said she and Vic are just friends, so stop harping on him."

Maddox shrugged and began doodling on his notebook.

Annoyed, Victor dipped his hand in the water and grabbed a handful of bubbles, wondering why Gabby was so supportive. On his mark, Gabby lit them and then recorded the results on the worksheet. Neither boy spoke as she completed the rest of the paperwork.

Mrs. Garcia called out, "Five minutes left. Turn in your results and get your areas cleaned up."

"That's a wrap. I'll turn in our results." Gabby stood and headed to the inbox on the teacher's desk. Calling over her shoulder, she said,  "Make sure you wash your hands thoroughly after using methane."

Victor began dismantling the setup, ignoring Maddox. He'd picked up an empty beaker and nearly yelped when Maddox's fingers dug into his shoulder.

"Get your bloody hand—"

"Kristy took a liking to me the night we met, little ballerina," said Maddox, his eyes narrowing. "She claimed she's single. That means you struck out. Now it's my turn to bat. Things could get really 'hot' if you get in the way."

Alarm bells went off in Victor's head. Irrational and possessiveness. He remembered behavior like this quite well when Kristy, by Arabella's bidding, had used the Allure of Desire on him. It made no sense! Why in the world would the genie—Victor shrieked and dropped the beaker. It shattered into hundreds of glittering shards of glass on the floor. 

The room grew quiet.

Maddox had held the butane torch to Victor's bare skin causing his hand to jerk and drop the beaker. The magic flared in response, the blazing column churning against its invisible barrier, forcing him to sit down and calm the raging energy aimed at Maddox.

Mrs. Garcia rushed over, warning the students to watch for broken glass. "Victor, you were doing so well. What happened?"

Victor glanced at Maddox, who slipped the torch onto the table, before turning to a disappointed Mrs. Garcia. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The water made it slippery. I'll clean it up."

As he went for the broom, Maddox muttered, "If you play with fire, you get burned."

The bell rang, but Victor stayed behind, sweeping up the glass as Mrs. Garcia lectured him about laboratory safety. Victor heard none of it, wondering if Maddox suffered from the Allure of Desire.

And if so—why?

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