His nostrils flare, and he grips my upper arms. “What are you trying to prove?” My smile falters. “What do you mean? I was trying to warm up like Resnick said, and then those two came and—” His grip tightens. “Not that. Why are you holding back your magic and wasting time trying to make them like you?” I gawk. He couldn’t possibly know about my magic, could he? To be on the safe side, I skirt the first question and focus on the second. “I wasn’t trying to make them like me. I was just…” His eyes narrow. “Just what?”
