"Trying, dude, nut up or shut up."

It should be working. Dermot knows he's better at healing himself than anything else, but he can cast other spells, he's done it before. He's not an idiot, and he's not a useless lump. He can just.

"Fine."

Quentin steps forward, shouldering Dermot out of the way. He starts from the beginning; he has the whole series of spells in his head, and Lori doesn't need to have it memorized, she can just read it off him.

Lori follows along, but does pick up on the maybe-panic in Dermot's thoughts...and it is concerning. Someone who can't do magic couldn't get into Brakebills, and Dermot knows what he's doing. 

Nevertheless, she and Quentin perform the spell together. 

Dermot slinks off to the corner to watch.

They're the first group to complete the spell successfully.

"Suck it, Ms. Romlin!"

Several of their classmates turn to stare.

"...fifth grade teacher. Said I wouldn't amount to much."

"Yeah, suck it, Miss Romlin!" Lori giggles. 

Meanwhile, Erica realizes that they're not going to finish in time. So, she does what any beginner Psychic magician with a specialty in aural enchantment would do.

"Dermot?"

Her eyelashes, fluttering as fast as she can flutter them.

Her voice, raised to the highest pitch she can raise it.

Her boobs, pushed out as far as she can push them.

And a little bit of magic carried with the sound of his name, unnoticed, so that her attention becomes very flattering, and especially given his current mood-

"Yeah?"

"I was just wondering..."

"Yeah?"

"I think I might have dropped a piece of paper on your table. Could you bring it to me?"

"Sure!"

Yuna sees what Erica is doing, and is half disapproving of such an underhanded tactic, but also very much wants to get past this and see what happens next. 

So she gives her best, brightest smile to Dermot too. 

He goes and gets, ignoring Lori and Quentin celebrating their victory or whatever.

This reminds Quentin that maybe Thistle needs some help. He follows Dermot over.

"Hey, um, are you okay?"

He taps the table, although of course she can see him, too.

"Thanks, Quinn. You're a sweetheart," she says, as she sends him back to his table.

Dermot goes, a little dazed.

Yuna slides closer to Erica. "That was really clever."

Thistle's eyes are red, and she feels nauseous. She wants out, she wants to go home, she misses Beth so much-

She starts at Quentin, and then immediately, like she wasn't in control of it, grabs his wrist tight. 

"Boys are easy, if you're pretty. Or just a little Psychic."

She glances at Quentin with mild curiosity, and an equal amount of disdain.

Good. He takes Thistle's hand.

This is completely unreasonable. He tries to formulate an actual argument that won't have Zev and Margo laughing in his face for being such a naïve baby.

"We're going to get through this," he says uselessly. He really wishes he'd learned sign language right about now. He writes a note telling her to sit tight while he talks to Zev and Margo.

He approaches Zev, since he's the first one he sees.

"Hey, what's the matter with you?"