by L. D. Wosar
I found the office, it was easy, right at the entrance and waiting in the chair gave me too much time to look at my files. There was so much disparaging information in my folder, it was comparable to a prison inmate central file. Though I had to keep my magic stagnant, this was one of those moments I had to persuade the secretary to read entirely different information. “Samantha Flowers?” The secretary called and walked over to her desk, asking me to join her. I handed her my file and she gave me enough time to slyly wave my hand.
“My name is Mrs. Garrison - it’s such a pleasure to see a new face, Miss Flowers.” She opened the folder and skimmed the personal information. “Oh, so you came from Atlanta - Rockmore High School. Head Cheerleader on the Junior Varsity team. Impressive. 4.2 GPA, even more impressive.” She read the rest to herself with a smile beaming on her pudgy face. I should say, sweet face, pudgy is a bit mean. On the other hand if she saw what my file actually stated, I’m sure she’d glare while pursing her lips and shaking her head. I got that a lot at my other schools. “So, why the move from Georgia out to California?”
I cleared the nervous lump in my throat and responded with a slight smile, “My father was offered a higher paying position in an architectural firm here. Of course, being only fifteen, I couldn’t live by myself in Atlanta and I had no choice.”
Miss Garrison’s long fingernails clicked on the computer keyboard and she hummed with her finger to her mouth. “Let’s see, based on your GPA, let’s get mostly AP courses for you.” My eyes widened at the thought of spreading my brain too thin; frankly, it frightened me and my deceit was only setting me up to fail out of my sophomore year. She said nothing else and gave me no option for required classes. “You have two electives, what are you interested in? We have a Gymnastics class since you are a gymnast, you can take that in place of P.E. if you’d like.” I couldn’t help the enthusiastic nod and smiled like a child who was promised a gigantic lollipop. Miss Garrison giggled, “That was easy, what other elective are you interested in?”
“I love to write, what about Journalism or Creative Writing?” I asked as Miss Garrison saw that I was one of the main journalists in the sports section of the Rockmore ‘Tiger Tribune.’ That was the only notation I kept intact.
“Very well, Journalism it is. Now as far as being on any team, I’m not sure how Mr. Blevins has set up his class, he leaves that decision to the Editor in Chief, Jason Rembrandt.” She smiled and continued, “he’s the first of three brothers attending Ocean High that will be graduating - and was accepted to Yale for that matter.” Wow! Yale, whatever! I wasn’t impressed with pretentious notions like that. I had no desirable college in mind, I had another year or so to think about where I wanted to spend four years engaging in higher education and party city. The latter was something that didn’t interest me either. I was not a party animal nor was I studious enough to hit the books either. She handed me the schedule and closed my file.
“Becca? Would you be a dear and take Miss Flowers on the grand tour of Ocean High?” reaching out her hand to shake mine, I wiped off the excess sweat before taking hers in mine. “Welcome and enjoy the rest of your school year.” Let’s see how long the rest of my school year lasts. I chuffed at her comment when she paid no attention, I didn’t need to give off vibes of indifference on my first day.
“Hi!” The girl reached out her hand, she looked Hawaiian, not the typical Californian I’d envision. “My name is Kameāloha Mahelona, but you can call me Becca since my real name is a mouthful.”
I chuckled, “Why Becca and not Kami or Aloha?” I was surprised when she laughed at my question. She was pleasant enough, although she looked like a Polynesian Barbie doll and shorter than I was, tiny for that matter. Yet, I was not at any point of comfort in this new school.
“My middle name is Becahana and since my older brother called me Becca since he was three-years-old - it stuck. So, did I hear this right? You were a cheerleader at your old school?”
Ah crap, now I have to play off my little white lie. I wasn’t a cheerleader, but how hard could it be acting fake for a few hours. On the other hand, it could be a masterful way of bringing me out of my shell. I’m not a sociable person by any means. I’m afraid of saying too much as I have in the past and bullied for being a freak. That label still confuses me, I look like everyone else, sort of, but because I have this little curse, I’m deemed a freak. It’s not like I walk around with a sign announcing my lineage to witchdom nor do I have a five point star carved into my forehead. I think people are just frightened of the unknown and rather than give me the benefit of the doubt, they spread rumors and cast me out. It’s been the story of my life since junior high - the freaky little witch girl who wears 80’s punk t-shirts and can do a bit of magic.
“Oh, yes, I was a cheerleader for the Junior Varsity team in Atlanta,” it sounded good to me, let’s hope Becca bought it. While she talked about the cheerleading team and about the school’s history, my attention was diverted to the artwork on the walls and the trophy cabinet. This was a highly awarded school, I should be proud to be a student and I was, so far. But it’s only been less than an hour and I still had five more months to keep my nose clean and stay out of trouble. I laughed to myself, can you imagine me? A cheerleader who dates a football star? Nope, I can’t imagine it either. In fact, I can’t imagine myself having a boyfriend.
“Ummmm, new girl.” Becca called out, snapping her manicured fingers. I took her hand and admired the black polka dots on white polish.
“Your nails are super cute. Do you paint them yourself?” I asked with enthusiasm and dropped my hands to hide my cracked cuticles and dry knuckles. I’ve never had a manicure, never thought it was all that important. However, if I was going to play along with the fabrication of the story in my file, I had to change a few things.
Becca smiled and nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, I do -you should totally come over. I will give you a mani-pedi.” Her smile faded, her face dropped and her cheeks blushed. “I am sorry, what was your name again?”
“Sammie Flowers.” I answered with confusion in my voice, I could’ve sworn I introduced myself already.
She gasped, “Oh Em Gee. Is your father an architect?”
I nodded, “Marcus Flowers, yes.”
“He’s the new guy my father was talking about,” a satisfied smirk crept in the corners of her mouth, “with high praises for that matter.” Becca gasped with excitement once more, she sure does that a lot. “We’re totally neighbors.”
“We are?” I seriously had no idea, but that was seriously cool. Did I just make my first BFF without realizing it?
“So, after school tomorrow, can you come over?” I nodded to her offer with a smile plastered on my face. Becca shimmied her shoulders and continued, “I will work on your hands and feet while we discuss ‘Jane Eyre’. That’s the topic in AP Literature. I noticed by glancing at your schedule that we have that class together - it's the fifth period right before lunch.” This girl could talk, which was good, because I wasn’t one to chatter unless I was comfortable with someone. “Here is your homeroom. You’ll like Mr. Powers. He’s super cool and cute - just don’t fall in love with him, although it is hard not to. His fiancee is our Lit teacher, she’s super cool too.”
Hmm, gossip so soon in our relationship? I laughed to myself. I scanned my schedule once more to see the second period class was AP Chemistry, lovely- I hate science, this class is bound to be an epic fail.
Thank God for this map, I know I’d get lost without it, this was a huge campus. “See you in the cafeteria -you’ll get to meet my crush and his brother. He’s cute too. You never know, there could be a double date in the future.”
I gave her a mock laugh, “Ummmm….yeah, I don’t think so.”
Becca shrugged at my comment, “You never know, Sammie. You’re adorable, I think Lucas will like you. Byeee.” She waved and I watched her walk off, gathering my composure and gripping my stomach to fight the butterflies who were telling me I sho
uldn’t have eaten that big bowl of oatmeal with extra bananas.
LUNCHTIME WITH STRANGERS
Gripping my lunchtray nervously, I felt like all eyes were on me. I suppose it’s natural, I am the new girl. The whispers were common to hear, I was used to it. However, the guys craning their necks to ogle at me were not. I never considered myself the hot girl that every boy wanted to date or every girl wanted to be. It would be nice to be popular; however, it’s too much stress to live up to those standards of being the popular one. I’d rather not have that target on my back and be the butt of the rumor mill. Been there, done that at every school, well for other reasons and not giving hand jobs to the varsity football team before games. It was a rumor that got way out of hand at Rockmore about one of the cheerleaders. It was no surprise, she transferred to another school
Let me tell you a bit more about this curse. I learned having a hot temper and being a witch with great powers make for a volatile pairing. Rewind to the first school I was expelled from. It was eighth grade and I was invited to a sleepover, which was an honor since it was at Sylvia Nelson’s lavish estate in Charleston, South Carolina. She was beautiful and she knew it. She was popular and wore that crown with pride. However, I learned how mean spirited she truly was that night.
Word had gotten around that I practiced witchcraft. Okay, there is a difference between practicing it and being born into it, never to be confused. I was encouraged to show the girls a few little parlor tricks, like making objects levitate and lighting candles by blowing on the wick. However, Sylvia asked me to make her arch nemesis, Kyra Maudlin disappear. When I refused, she threatened she’d spread the word around about my freakish talent. I left her house that night with no regret until that Monday when I was taunted and bullied. When I was pushed around in the girls’ locker room, I lost it and sent lockers flying. The locker room was trashed, a few girls were seriously injured and I was expelled. This was the first time my father relocated to Nashville. With every occurrence, there was a new job for my father, a new city and new schools for me and my brother, Brant.
I was feeling good about Ocean High and Santa Barbara already. However, this is how it always began. New faces who are always obliging and friendly until something happens that is beyond my control then everything goes haywire.
“Sammie over here,” Becca called out, waving for me. Great! Now every single soul in there knew my name. “Lucas, move over and let her sit next to you.” I hesitantly placed my tray on the table and sat down, shyly glancing at Lucas and making the determination that Becca was right, he was cute. “Sammie Flowers, I want to introduce you to Todd Rembrandt.” Todd raised his chin and went back to his phone. “And his brother, Lucas.” Lucas was friendlier than his brother and held out his hand to shake mine. I think his hand was equally as sweaty as mine.
“You’re in my Chemistry class,” Lucas told me nervously before he shyly looked away, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Yeah, you are so far into the class, I’m a bit lost.” I responded, taking a drink from my water bottle. I took a bite from my burger, which was nasty and dry, not helping the knots in my stomach, so I chose to eat the crackers instead.
“You should totally tutor her, Lucas. Aren’t you, like, a Chemistry expert?” Becca said before she nibbled on a carrot. I can see why she’s so small, her lunch was nothing but rabbit food. I prefer my diet of greasy burgers, pizza, tacos not to mention my addiction to chips and salsa. My mother always told me she is surprised I don’t weigh a ton with all the junk I put into my system. I guess I was blessed with being small and not having issues with acne. Am I saying I’m perfect? On the surface I may look perfect, yet, dig into my core and you’ll see my imperfections glaring at you.
“Thanks for volunteering me, Becca.” Lucas was annoyed with her suggestion. It was also a bad one, there is no way my parents would allow me to study alone with a boy.
“No, thank you, Becca. I am fine, I can catch up with no problem.” I spoke up, although thinking Wiki may come in handy to cheat a bit to keep my grade afloat and worthy of AP level.
“So, Becca told us you came from Atlanta,” Todd said as he barely looked my way, whatever was going on in social media must have been highly important for him not to give any of us his full attention. “What brought you out all the way to California?”
“My father got a job offer he couldn't refuse.” Of course he couldn’t refuse it, he had no choice in the matter since his bad seed of a daughter can’t keep herself out of trouble.
“How do you like it so far?” Is this blazingly handsome jock actually interested in talking to me? This was weird. The jocks at the other schools treated me like I had the plague.
“It’s nice. I haven’t seen too much of it-” I stopped talking when I noticed a carrot on Becca's tray levitating about one inch, while she twirled her finger. This made my freakin’ day. Not just my day, but my whole year. No wonder we clicked, she is just like me. Maybe I will need to pick her brain tomorrow after school, if she is open to talking about what I just witnessed.
Gymnastics Class - Last Period
I wasn’t prepared for this class, since I had no idea they even had a Gymnastics class so I brought nothing and I was thankful for my assigned PE Uniform, although I was given a list of what I needed to get for the required uniform. I have so many leotards at home, but it had to be teal, black and white, the school’s colors, which safe to say are the San Jose Sharks colors and since the school was close to the ocean, we were the Ocean High Sharks. Currently, I'm a baby shark, since I am the new kid in town, that’s what Becca told me anyway.
The warm-ups consisted of stretching, dancing around on the mats - which was lame. At Rockmore we stretched and sprinted around the auditorium to not only loosen our muscles but to build up our heart rate and adrenaline. I suppose dancing around serves the same purpose. After warm-up, I was pulled to the side by the coach; Miss Clank, who stood no taller than me and had muscles for days. “Sammie. Welcome to the team. Our next competition is in May, I want to see what you have to determine if it’s worth it for me to train you.” She didn’t instruct me what to do, but it was interesting how the other girls and guys moved to the side to watch me. I hated being the center of attention, but it was safer this way so no one would get injured in the process.
Jumping up and down on the mat, I stretched out my arms and bobbed my head from shoulder to shoulder - more to relieve my nerves than anything. After taking a running start, I completed three front handsprings before going into triple back handsprings, ending my showing off with an aerial somersault and landing, ever so gracefully, on my feet. There was a round of applause, though I could see a couple of the princesses pursing their lips and whispering. It doesn’t hurt to have a bit of competition. Just because I was shy and anti-social didn’t make me any less competitive. “Great job, Flowers, let’s see you on the balance beam.” What I was supposed to do there, I suppose digging into the recesses of old routines was the only thing I could do. This also applied to the uneven bars and the vault. Admittedly, I had to show off on that one and rather than a straight vault, I had to throw an aerial somersault in there too. I think I was seriously ticking people off, not one person approached me after a while. Thanks for making me feel so welcome to your team. Hmmm, gold medal winners four years in a row - if I am not mistaken, I think I will add more to the winning spirit than hinder it.
Class was over and thank God it was the last class, I felt like a stinky, sweaty hog now. As everyone rushed to the locker rooms, Coach Clank called me over again. “Flowers.” She handed me a card with contact information. “I want you on this team and you’re definitely advanced enough for the competition in five months. Have your parents fill out the permission and medical forms to get you started. Also make sure you have the required uniform by Friday.” I nodded and staggered to the locker room, my legs were flaccid and I was physically exhausted. It had been six months since my body was put through such vigorous exercise and all I wanted t
o do was go home and crash.
“Should we call you Kerry Strug?” One of the girls called out and smirked at me, I had no idea who Kerry Strug was, guess I needed to Google her. It was a lame attempt at an insult or so I took it until she smiled, “I’m Hannah Francis. I only called you Kerry Strug because you’re no bigger than a pixie, probably one of the smallest on the team. She was a star gymnast and you’re really impressive.
I wanted to ask you beforehand. Becca told me you were a cheerleader in Atlanta and I can guess you were always at the top of the pyramid.” I shrugged at her comment. “I know it’s a bit far out, but we will be holding cheerleading tryouts in a couple of months and based on what I saw in there and from what Becca told me, you need to try out.”
She didn’t ask me if I wanted to try-out, it was almost as though it was imperative I try-out. Okay, maybe this day wasn’t a total loss. It was only day one and finally it was three in the afternoon, it was inevitable that it would all go downhill from there.
Draíocht Coven
My mind wandered while in charms class. I knew all of this and learned everything I needed to learn, so I have no idea why I had to take this class again. I was a senior warlock now and I’m not sure why it was deemed necessary to make me repeat the same classes over and over. This tedious class was interrupted when the instructor, Master Drake, informed me that I was wanted in the Headmaster’s office. Professor Ciara McCullough was always such a joy, said no one ever. No good came out of being called to her office for any warlock or witch.
