by Willow Rose
"Amy? How about you try?"
Amy lifted her head from the history book and looked at her teacher. She rose to her feet.
"So, Cortés and his people traveled…I mean the Aztecs, they were a people who were…"
Mrs. Teller gave her a look of concern. "Amy…"
"No…I know this…" Amy said.
"Amy, this is Algebra. I wanted you to solve the problem…"
The entire class burst into laughter. Amy stared at Mrs. Teller and realized she hadn't even noticed that it was the wrong teacher.
"I…I…"
The class couldn't stop laughing, and Amy blushed.
"Come, try anyway," her teacher said and showed her the problem written on the whiteboard.
Amy swallowed hard, then gave her classmates a look before approaching the problem. Amy stared at the numbers and letters on the board while keeping her cool, not letting the sound of her classmates’ laughter get to her.
"Amy?" her teacher said. "Are you all right?"
Amy stared at the board. Nothing of what was up there made any sense to her.
"Amy? You're usually so good at these problems," her teacher said. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Amy nodded and stared at it when someone yelled loudly from the back of the class:
"Ask Cortés to help you!"
The class burst into laughter once again. Amy felt her blood boil and soon turned around, finally losing control. She wanted to yell at them, to tell them off, but instead, she blew out a spout of thick fire from her nostrils, setting Mrs. Teller's plant on fire—the one she had received for being appointed teacher of the year the year before.
Chapter Four
She was sent to the principal's office, the principal staring at her from across the room, her fingers drumming on the mahogany table.
The principal, Mrs. Fletcher, let out a deep sigh. "Amy, you're a good student. You usually do so well in school. What's happening to you? Your teachers have told me you've been slacking off lately," she said. "Not doing your homework and your testing is going way downhill from what they're used to."
She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands in front of her. "How are things at home?"
Amy wrinkled her forehead. How are things at home?
Well, first I thought I had terminal cancer, and now I am apparently turning into a dragon instead. No biggie. Things are just fine.
"Your parents travel a lot, I have been told. You're alone, they say. Do you feel lonely?"
"I just got a dog and eleven puppies," Amy said. "They keep me busy."
Her parents had stared for a little while when seeing them the last time they were home, but they had agreed that it was good for Amy to have companionship when they were gone. But they had made her promise to take care of them herself. Feeding them and making sure they got enough exercise. It was all her responsibility.
"Eleven, huh? That’s a lot," Mrs. Fletcher said. "But that doesn't really make up for the lack of parents, does it?"
Amy looked at her, not knowing what to say.
"Okay," Mrs. Fletcher said. "I see what’s going on here. You're looking for attention, aren't you? You've stopped doing your homework and now this because you want them to see you. You're lonely, am I right?"
"Well…I…am alone a lot…"
Mrs. Fletcher nodded. "This is a very serious offense. We do not take arson lightly. We have no tolerance for anything that involves fire or use of weapons. You're looking at suspension here for at least a month. Now, I always listen to both sides of a case. Mrs. Teller tells me you set her plant on fire during class?"
Suspension? The thought was awful.
"It was an accident. I didn't mean to; I promise," Amy said. "You must believe me."
Mrs. Fletcher leaned forward, her face signaling confusion. "How do you accidentally set something on fire?"
Good question, now come up with an even better answer.
Amy thought like crazy, but she couldn't come up with one. Instead, she lied.
"I started smoking…to get my parents attention like you said. I didn't realize it until you said it just now, but you're right. It's all about getting them to notice me. Because they're never home. I hoped I’d be caught, but no one caught me. I set the plant on fire with my lighter, the one I use for my new smoking habit. Because I wanted you to call them and have them come home to take care of me. I miss them and feel lonely all the time. But please don't call them. It will only make them sad."
Mrs. Fletcher thought it over for a little while. She seemed satisfied that she had it all figured out from the beginning.
"All right, young lady. I suggest you stop smoking right away. I will not have anyone smoking on school grounds. I will not have anyone bringing a lighter to school. I will not call your parents, but if anything like this happens again, I will have to. I will give you detention for the next four weeks. I think we can avoid suspension for now since it is, after all, the first time I’ve had you here in my office." She pointed at Amy. "But you have to promise me to stop smoking, you hear me? It's a disgusting habit. Absolutely awful."
Amy nodded, relieved. The last thing she wanted was for her parents to know anything or to have to rush home from their trip. She hated being any trouble to them. She was very happy she didn't have to get suspended. She wouldn't be able to sustain a month alone in that house. It would drive her nuts being all alone that long. She was alone enough as it was.
"Now, this is the last time I see you here in my office, can you promise me that?"
Amy got up and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"And do your homework. You won't get your parents' attention by getting bad grades. It'll only hurt your education. Talk to them instead. Tell them how you feel. Okay?"
She nodded. "Okay."
"Now, get out of my office."
Chapter Five
Jazmine was eating lunch with Adrian when Amy came back from the principal's office. Everyone in the lunchroom turned and stared at her as she entered. Jazmine waved at her to come to their table, and so she did. Jayden joined them a second later. All eyes were on Amy for a long time as the rumors had already spread.
"Are you all right there?" Jazmine said.
"What the heck happened?" Jayden asked.
Amy bent her head. She looked at her lunchbox and the pastrami sandwich. Jazmine could tell she was embarrassed. She put her arm around her shoulder.
"Don't worry about them," she said. "They're idiots."
Jayden leaned over the table. "I thought it was pretty cool. You actually spewed fire out of your nose."
"Jayden!" Jazmine said.
"What?" He drank from his juice box. "It was cool."
"Well, maybe Amy doesn't think so right now."
"I…I don't know how to control it," she said and took a bite of her sandwich. "It just happened. I’m afraid I might hurt someone. Today, it was just a plant, but what about the next time?"
Jazmine sighed, thinking about her mother's book. She had been reading it every night, even though her mother had told her to never go near it. Jazmine couldn't stop herself. She freakin’ loved witchcraft and was really, really good at it. One day, her mother would see for herself and then she would never tell her to stay away from it again.
"You’ve just got to practice," Jazmine said. "Remember how hard it was for me in the beginning? I had no idea what I was doing, but little by little I learned how to control it. You can do the same. But you need to admit to yourself that this is what you are and that it won't go away. You gotta accept it, Amy. Embrace it and learn to love it. Like me."
Amy nodded with a sniffle. "I just…yours is pretty cool. You can make all these things happen. All I do is spew fire out of my nose. That's really not that cool if you ask me."
"That's just because you haven't learned how to master it yet," Jazmine said.
"Yeah," Jayden chimed in. "You gotta figure out how it works. Like what makes you turn into the…" he leaned over and whispered the nex
t word: "dragon."
"And why did you spew fire in class?" Jazmine continued. "I think it was because you were angry."
Amy looked up, and her eyes met Jazmine's. "Really?"
"Yeah. It could be that simple. Control your temper, and you control that fire of yours."
Jazmine took a bite of her carrot and chewed. Behind them, they could hear other kids talking about Amy, whispering about her. Jazmine looked at Amy, who looked down, embarrassed.
Jazmine smiled to herself, then grabbed Amy's hand in hers. She leaned toward her and whispered:
"It can also be fun. Watch."
Then she closed her eyes and whispered, "Anguis."
She repeated the word two more times and soon the boy sitting behind them, the one who had done the talking, screamed as a snake slithered up his arm.
Chapter Six
I was exhausted. Panting and gasping for air from our run, I came up into our street and could spot our house in the distance. For once, our house looked like heaven to me. Finally, I had almost finished; finally, no more running.
My mom was way ahead of me, as she had been on the entire run, but every now and then she would run back to me, trying to cheer me on by telling me I could do better.
Now she was waiting for me in our front yard, doing her stretches. I dragged myself the rest of the way, thinking I was never going to do this again. Ever. She would have to do the race herself, alone. There was no way I would survive running this half-marathon with her.
My mother gave me a look above her sunglasses as I tumbled into the front yard and threw myself in the grass, panting, gasping for air.
"I really thought you'd be in better shape, Robyn. With all that running you’ve been doing."
"I haven't run this far before," I said, wheezing.
"But still. It's like you're not even trying."
"Hey, I did my best. We can't all be…" I was about to say be vampires but stopped.
My mom stared at me.
"Be what, Robyn?"
I sat up, sweat gushing down my face. I felt so gross but didn't care. I just wanted to jump in a shower and never run again.
"Be as fast as you."
"Ah, well…I guess I am kind of fast, but still…you really need to get in shape. When I was your age, I…"
The sound of tires screeching made her stop and turn to look. I got up too and saw the bus as it careened around the corner and rushed into our street. It zigzagged up toward us, hitting the pavement here and there, knocking over Amy's garbage cans outside on the grass, then getting back into the street, almost running into the big tree in front of Jayden's house.
"What on Earth…?" my mother snorted. "That is no way to…"
The bus drove past us into the cul-de-sac, where it turned around, tires screeching once again as it almost slid out into the grass in front of Jazmine's house, then returned toward us.
"Is that…?" I asked and took a step closer. "Is that a blood drive?"
"It would appear so," my mother said. "I’ve never seen such reckless driving and on our nice street. We need to call the police. I will not have this behavior in our neat and quiet neighborhood, and from a blood drive on top of it. Well, I have never…"
My mom pulled out her cell, just as the bus drove past us, then came to a sudden halt. We heard screaming inside of it, sounding mostly like giggling, then the door hissed open and three strange faces poked out, all three of them completely identical.
"Hi, Auntie Camille!"
Chapter Seven
"You've got to be kidding me."
My mom stood, gaping with her phone in her hand, staring at the three faces. They were giggling loudly and then exiting the bus, one after another. It looked weird the way they all moved in the exact same way and how they were completely and utterly the same.
My mom swallowed hard as they approached us.
"Auntie!" they said, speaking in unison. They threw themselves at her in a big hug.
I had to bite my lip not to laugh out loud. My mom looked so flustered inside the hug. She had never been much of a hugger since she wasn't fond of germs being shared, as she put it. She didn't enjoy touching much in general.
The triplets let go of her, still giggling. My mom straightened her clothes and wiped her shoulders like she believed she could wipe away the germs or the feeling of them touching her.
"So…what brings you three…here?" she asked, lips tight. "To our neighborhood? Our…nice and quiet…usually…neighborhood?
"We came to visit you, Auntie," they said in unison.
My mom tried hard to smile and look like she was happy to see them, but it came off really awkward.
"Really? Well, isn't that…nice."
"We thought so."
I cleared my throat to make them aware of my presence.
"Oh, yes," my mom said. "This is my daughter, Robyn. Robyn meet your cousins. Huey, Dewey, and Louie."
I snickered. "Seriously? Like the cartoon characters?"
"Yeah…well my sister has a sense of humor. Not that I always understand it, but apparently she does."
They stretched out their hands.
"I'm Huey."
"I'm Dewey."
"And that makes me Louie."
I shook their hands one at a time. They giggled and made funny grimaces. I couldn't stop staring at them while my mom rolled her eyes behind their backs. Was I really related to these guys? Did they really belong to my family? On my mother's side? They seemed so out of place, so completely different than my mom.
"Well, we should go in," my mom said and seemed in a rush to get them away from the street, away from the neighbors’ staring eyes. "I'll make you a smoothie, and then you can get on your way again."
We walked inside, and my mom started cutting up kale for her smoothie, while the triplets ran around the entire house like small children…lifting up everything, looking closely at all the art, trying out the rocking chair in the living room, and basically just being all over the place.
"So, where will you go after this?" my mom asked as she served them the kale and banana smoothies.
"Oh, we're not going anywhere," they all replied. "We wanted to hang out here for a little while."
They grabbed the smoothies and slurped them while my mother stood like a statue in the kitchen, mouth gaping and eyes wide open.
She wasn't blinking.
Chapter Eight
Amy had never had detention before. She arrived right after classes were out and found an empty classroom with old Mr. Hickenbaum sitting inside of it. Mr. Hickenbaum was a retired teacher who liked to help out now and then at the school as a volunteer. People said it was because he didn't know what else to do once they retired him and he definitely didn't want to be at home with his wife all day long.
"Uhm…excuse me?" Amy said.
Old Hickenbaum looked up from his book. He squinted his eyes to see better, then nodded.
"Yes?"
"Is this detention?" Amy asked.
He lifted a hand so slowly it felt like forever before he finally pointed at the chair in front of him.
"Sit," he said, even pronouncing the word slowly. He reminded Amy of the sloth at their local zoo that she used to stare at for hours when she went there with her nanny when she was younger.
Amy sighed and sat down. She stared at the old man in front of her, waiting for his instructions, but nothing came. Old Hickenbaum kept reading his book, not even looking at her.
"So…what do I do now?" she asked.
Nothing happened.
"What do I do next?" Amy asked again.
"He's deaf," a voice said coming from behind her. Amy turned her head. It was Jazmine. She had just entered, and the old man finally looked up, slowly lifting his sloth-eyes from the old dusty book.
"See," she said, then waved at him. "You can say what you want to him. Hey, old man, how was bingo last night, huh?"
The old man pointed at a chair, then said: "Sit."
Jazmine did wit
h a heavy sigh.
"So, what brings you in here?" Amy asked.
"The snake. They’re certain I brought it with me. I told them they can't prove anything, but they won't listen. I got detention last week too because of an incident involving a couple of roaches. They believe I put them in Britney's hair."
Amy chuckled. "Maybe you should find another trick. Something not involving animals. They're onto you."
"I’m working on it," Jazmine said.
Amy sighed and leaned back in her seat. "So…what do we do now? Do we just sit here?"
Jazmine chuckled. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. You can do your homework if you like."
Amy sighed and looked out the window where three ravens were sitting on the windowsill, pecking at the glass.
"Not really in the mood for it."
"Yeah, me either," she said. Jazmine looked mischievous. Amy didn't like the way she looked at her.
"Hey, how about we make this interesting?"
"What do you mean?"
"In about five minutes, old Hickenbaum will fall asleep as he usually does. No one is here. I say we practice."
"What do you mean practice?"
"You. We find out what makes you transform."
Amy shook her head. "I don't want to."
"Come on, Amy. You need to find out."
"No, Jazmine. It'll just end badly. I don't want to."
"Why don't you want to figure out what you are and, even better, what you can do?"
