Charlie walked into the student centre confidently – it wouldn’t do to look like a freshman – but couldn’t help but slow down and look around once she got in there. It was nice. I mean, obviously she hadn’t expected egg crates and cobwebs, but…it was easy to forget how expensive this place was when she wasn’t the one paying for it. The pool table was neat, relatively skid-free, and empty, which was really a shame – though she was awful at it, she loved a game of pool. The television was twice the size of the one they had at home, and was tuned to CNN, the volume so low it couldn’t be heard. She stared at it for a minute, watching notifications of dire events rolling across the bottom of the screen, before shaking her head. No wonder everyone thought the world had gone to pot, look at what was on the news these days! She smiled as the angry face of a well-known figure, now on trial for murdering her husband, came on a commercial for diapers. Would those parents dare let her near that cute, chubby-cheeked toddler now? She doubted it.

Charlie hummed the Cell-Block Tango under her breath, subtly swaying her hips in time to the music, as she finished wandering the room. Board games sat on a shelf in the corner, and she picked up a pack of cards, smiling to herself. She’d learned a few card tricks when she was younger, and wondered if she still remembered them. She turned the television off and settled on the floor between an overstuffed sofa and a coffee table, back against the cushions. She dumped the deck out of the package, picked out the jokers, and started shuffling. The cards slid out of her hands and across the table, and she sighed…stinkin’ small hands. They’d been a nightmare with the piano and guitar, and now, apparently, still with cards. She’d always hoped they’d grown.

Charlie collected the cards, turned them all the right way, and shuffled again, more carefully this time. She tucked one joker back into the pile and tried to practice, laying the cards out, shuffling and fanning them this way and that before cutting the deck, picking up the top half to reveal…the Queen of Hearts. She sighed, disgruntled, and tried again with equally unsatisfying results. Obviously, she’d have to stay in school – her career as a magician just wasn’t meant to be. “Magic school dropout / your little hands are just too small / magic school dropout / you can’t do that card trick at all…” she sang aloud to herself in a quiet, even alto as she laid out a game of solitaire. It would’ve been more fun with someone else to play with.