Petey leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. I could feel the heat radiating off of her, but it was nowhere near the intensity that had almost burned the house down. She was calming down.
“I feel so useless,” she said softly, wringing her hands together. “It took me two years of study to discover my specialty and now all I want is to go back to being powerless.”
My chest squeezed tight. Memories of discovering my own specialty power flooded back. It had been the worst year of my life. I twisted around to face her, pulling the collar of my shirt down to expose the scarred skin beneath. Petey opened her eyes as I shifted, and her gaze instantly fell upon the scar.
“That was from when I first discovered my electricity speciality,” I said, my cheeks heating up. I let go of my collar, the pit of my stomach twisting. “I couldn’t touch a surface without shocking it. I ruined so many air con remotes. I was responsible for three air conditioning repairs. Brisbane in its entirety had a three-day blackout because of me.”
I could tell that Petey had the urge to chuckle, and I laughed myself, giving her permission to do so. “I can look back fondly on it now, but at the time it was horrible,” I gave her a warm smile and she returned her own. It was a lot nicer to see than her tears.
“I remember when the university booked a commercial air conditioning installation on the same day as my final potionology exam.” I shook my head, already beginning to laugh. “Those poor technicians were trying to figure out the air conditioning unit malfunctioning for two hours, all whilst I was panicking in the room next to them.”
Petey snorted. I shook my head, smiling. “What I’m saying is that you’re not the only one who has had trouble with their specialty, and you won’t be the last.” I said, standing up. “If anything, it’s an opportunity to meditate more often.”