Academy's Pervert in the D Class

"Two sums in a shop do not make you clever."

Olivia bent for the blouse.

The black pants pulled across her hips as she went down.

The seam dug in. The panty line sat under the cloth in a hard ridge, left cheek, right cheek, the thin strip between.

She gathered the blouse against her chest and stood.

"I did not cheat."

"Stop lying. Everyone knows you all cheated. It is cute when you deny it with that straight face." Joren glanced at the clerk behind the counter, then at the woman still touching house linen, then back.

He had them.

"It worked for this week. Written test is done. Next is practical. Real casting. We will wreck Class D there. Keep your little numbers. They will not help when a spell is coming at your face."

A boy in an apprentice vest stopped turning buttons on a card.

The shop went quiet. Cedar. New dye. Someone’s coin purse clicking shut.

Olivia’s pulse sat in her throat. She kept her voice even anyway.

"If the practical is what you care about, say that. Do not stand in a shop and call our teacher a cheat because you did not like the scores."

Lila laughed once.

"There she is. Still polite. Still pretending this is a discussion." Her eyes went down Olivia’s body. Light blue pulled across both breasts. Black pants cut at the hip and stayed there. Back up. "Buy whatever you want. It will not change that you are Class D."

"Leave the finals to people who can hold a spell," Joren said. "You are going to get Silvia burned and you will still be nobody."

Olivia’s mouth opened.

"She is not nobody."

Lia was already coming from the ribbon table.

Red curls. Freckles across her shoulders and down onto the top of her chest. The dress sat low. When she walked her breasts moved inside it.

The skirt clung to the full line of her thighs and rode a little with each step. Green eyes already angry.

Sophie came half a step behind. Blonde twin tails. Jacket too neat on a small frame. Short skirt, bare legs. She looked like she wanted the floor to open and had decided it would not.

"We scored too," Lia said, stopping at Olivia’s shoulder. "Better than you think. Class D is coming for Class C. Get ready for that instead of picking fights in a clothes shop."

Sophie swallowed. She lifted her chin anyway.

"That is right. We studied. You do not get to call it cheating because the numbers went the wrong way for you."

Joren’s smirk widened.

"The whole charity class showed up."

Lila’s ponytail did not move.

"Two more mouths. Still D. Still going to get flattened when the practical starts."

Lia stepped closer.

"Say that again nearer."

Joren lifted his hand.

Fire gathered over his palm. Tight. Round. Heat folded the air above the wood.

Not a fight.

A reminder of who was allowed to use power in a public shop.

Lila flicked her fingers.

Wind tore up off the boards.

Dresses kicked sideways. Paper wrappings ripped. The cedar went sharp.

A display pole rattled in its base.

The woman at the linen wall shouted.

The clerk grabbed the counter. Customers ran for the door, coin and fabric left where they fell.

Sophie grabbed Olivia’s sleeve.

Her face had gone pale. Lia’s shoulders locked.

They both knew what a real cast felt like in a room this small.

Olivia did not step back. Her heart slammed. Her hands were cold. She kept her eyes on Lila.

Lila’s mouth twitched.

"Still standing there."

She snapped her wrist.

The gale hit Olivia first.

It shoved her from the front. Her back struck a rack. Clothes left her arms. The blouse slammed flat to her breasts. She hit the floor on one hip.

Breath gone. The pants bit into the flesh where she landed and stayed there.

Lia took the side of it.

She slammed into the low table. The skirt blew straight up her thighs, all the way, and stayed.

Dark green panties.

Small bow at the front. The cloth between her legs was a narrow strip.

The low neckline of the dress yanked sideways. One breast almost left it.

She caught herself on an elbow, red curls in her mouth, and shoved the skirt down with the other hand.

Too late. The clerk had seen. The boy in the vest had seen.

Green eyes wet with fury, chest heaving in the pulled neckline, the bow still sitting over the mound of her sex for one extra second before the skirt came down.

Sophie went down harder.

The wind caught the short skirt and flung it up over her hips and left it there.

Pale pink panties, small, plain, the kind that did not try.

They showed the full shape of her petite ass and the tight line at the front as her body hit the boards.

Twin tails slapped her cheeks.

She made a short sound, high, and shoved the skirt down with both hands.

Ears burning. Knees together. The pink cloth had ridden into her as she fell.

She had to hook a thumb and tug it out before the skirt would lie flat again.

The fire in Joren’s palm died.

He was laughing.

Lila was laughing too, looking at the three of them among scattered hangers and torn wrapping.

"That is Class D," Joren said. "No matter how high you are now. The practical will put you back on the floor."

Lila looked once more.

Then they walked out into the gold evening as if the shop had always been theirs to break.

The door shut.

Wind-torn lace swung on the back rack.

The orange set hung crooked. One strap off the hook.

Olivia sat among the dropped slacks.

She did not cry. She looked at the door they had used. Jaw tight. The heat in her face was anger now.

Sophie whispered, "I hate them."

Lia dragged the dress back over her chest and spat a curse at the empty doorway.

Olivia picked her clothes up off the floor, one piece at a time, and stood on legs that still wanted to shake.

The clerk was staring at the counter, not at them.

The boy in the vest had not left.

"The practical," Olivia said, mostly to herself. "Fine. I will show them."

She went back to the counter with her jaw set, paid for the boring pile, and looked at the dipping sun.

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