Academy of Magic Collection

by Angelique S Anderson et al.

  “I wonder why they are back so soon?” Betty whispered.

  “I don’t know.” Francie scrunched her nose. “Dean doesn’t look happy.”

  And then the impossible happened. For the first time ever, Dean Woods, St. Mary Margaret’s star football quarterback, looked up, straight into the eyes of the three faces pressed against the windowpane in Ginger’s room.

  Betty and Ginger both fell to the floor, erupting in embarrassed laughter. But Francie seemed glued to the spot. She noticed the way his angry eyes seemed to soften. Dean continued to look at her, no longer listening to what Kenny was saying.

  The corner of his lip tilted up, and then he gave a short wave.

  She blushed right to the roots of her blond hair and then did the unthinkable and waved back. He winked at her and then walked toward his house. Francie had no idea how he managed to look as cool as a cucumber when she felt like throwing up.

  Had she really just waved to Dean?

  The next idea that popped into her head was clearly insane. But hadn’t Francie just made a pact to be brave? Did she have it inside of her to march down the stairs, walk out the door, and go talk to him?

  No.

  Good heavens, what a terrible idea, she thought.

  But that didn’t stop her from doing precisely that.

  “Where are you going?” Betty called out as she walked out of the room.

  “Channeling my inner pin-up girl,” she called out, and didn’t miss when the girls gasped in horror.

  Francie knew full well that they would instantly be in that window seat, ready to watch her crash and burn. But Francie knew that it was now or never.

  She let herself out the screened door and heard it smack as it hit the frame. She was in her play clothes—some pedal pushers and a crop top. It wasn’t something she would ever be seen in public wearing. However, she hadn’t thought of that when she began this crazy escapade.

  “Francie?” His deep voice came from the darkness. “I thought I saw you up there.”

  She took a shaky breath. “I saw you too.”

  And then regretted the words. How stupid was that? She waved at him, obviously he knew she saw him. Rather than scoffing at her, Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose you did.”

  He moved into the light that was cast from the side entrance to his house.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked softly.

  Francie wasn’t sure how to answer.

  “I just wanted to see if you were okay,” she blurted out. “You seemed…upset.”

  Dean ran a hand through his hair. “You saw that?” And then, to her utter delight, he blushed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “How about the truth?” Francie prompted.

  Dean smiled but didn’t say anything.

  Francie ran her hand over her arm in a nervous gesture. “You are obviously okay. I am just going to go back inside.”

  His hand shot out, not quite touching her, but she could swear she felt the heat of him.

  “Wait, don’t go.” He looked at her. “I was just sitting on my swings. I know that’s stupid. But sometimes it helps me think.”

  She looked into the darkness. “In your backyard?”

  He nodded nervously. “You don’t have to.”

  Francie smiled. She was used to a confident Dean, the one who always seemed to know just who he was.

  “Sure.” She found herself walking with Dean into the darkness. Her eyes soon adjusted and sure enough, there was an old metal swing set with two swings. She walked over to one and sank into it, pumping her legs back and forth until she felt the wind rush over her skin and her hair fly through the air.

  Francie laughed. “It’s been a long time since I have done this.”

  Dean smiled. “It’s nice though, isn’t it?”

  Francie nodded. “Yeah, it really is.”

  They continued to swing in silence for a time while Francie desperately tried to think of something witty or clever to say. Sadly, nothing brilliant came to mind. Instead, she blurted out the girls’ plans to visit the academy.

  “Betty and Ginger are all set to go to the auditions. I really don’t understand why they are so hip on the idea. It seems to me like it would be a drag.”

  Dean cocked his head to the side. “What makes you say that?”

  Francie cursed herself for speaking her mind. The last thing she wanted to get into was why she wasn’t good at school. “No reason, particularly. I just don’t see the point of changing schools for one year, seeing as how we graduate next May.”

  Dean slowly nodded before asking, “I’ve heard that the academy doesn’t follow the traditional school curriculum. It’s a four-year program no matter what age you are when you enter.”

  Francie gasped. “Four years?”

  “Listen, I am not trying to talk you out of it. It’s just, this isn’t your normal type of school. I wanted you to understand that before you went there.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “George and Kenny are keen to go as well.”

  “Well, that is interesting.”

  When she didn’t elaborate, Dean stopped swinging and grabbed her chain so that Francie was forced to look at him. His brows were drawn together, and he looked…mad? She couldn’t imagine why he would be upset with her.

  “Is something wrong?” she blurted out.

  “Why do you care if George and Kenny are there?”

  Francie frowned. “I don’t.”

  “But you just said that it was interesting,” Dean pressed.

  Francie shrugged. “Well, it is. If they are interested, I wonder if their girlfriends are going to be there as well.”

  Dean’s lip curled at the corner. “George and Kenny don’t have a girlfriend, they have many.”

  Francie pulled the chain out of Dean’s grasp and resumed swinging. “Well, somebody ought to tell Posy and Sally that.”

  In a move that had Francie squealing. Dean hopped off his swing and caught hers while it was at its highest point. She held the chains tightly, hoping that she wouldn’t fall.

  “Let me down, you oaf!”

  Dean smirked at her, all at once the captain of the football team again. “Maybe I will keep you here forever.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she said, “And maybe I will bash some sense into that thick head of yours!”

  He laughed, the rich sound, surprising Francie enough that she nearly loosened the grasp on the swing.

  Francie attempted to kick him, but Dean closed the space between them so that her legs were trapped. However unlikely it was now that she could fall, Francie felt far from safe. Her heart thundered inside her chest and her hands were shaking.

  “Let me go, Dean!”

  In the next instant, Dean was back on his swing and Francie was stopped completely still. She had no idea how he could have moved that fast.

  A little disoriented, Francie stood and wobbled a bit before she steadied herself to make her escape. Dean smirked the entire time, but his intent gaze never left her. Not when she rattled off some inane excuse to leave. Nor when she nearly stumbled over the garden hose that had been left out on the lawn and nearly landed on her fanny.

  The only thing that changed was the smirk had grown into a wide, mocking grin that had Francie’s insides in tumult. She wasn’t sure how or when, but Dean wouldn’t be getting the best of her. He might have won today’s skirmish, but the war was far from over.

  Chapter Six

  Francie laughed at something Betty was saying as the three girls hopped out of the car they had borrowed from Ginger’s mother. It was a little over five miles to the edge of Clarkstown where the academy resided. On the surface, it would seem that the friends were cool as a cucumber in their cotton dresses and bouncy ponytails.

  They joined the surprisingly long line of kids ranging from five or six to some adults who had to be in their twenties. While many of the entrants engaged in meaningless banter with their parties, there was a thick blanket of uncertainty that hung
in the air.

  It was in the way that one girl laughed a little loudly, or in the little boy, who nervously picked at the scab on his knee. It was clear in the white-knuckle grip of more than one young mother, as she clutched her purse close and prayed that her little angel would get in.

  Leopold Preparatory Academy. The bold sign stood proudly on the front lawn for any and all to see. As did the words below: “Bettering each individual for an optimal future.”

  Francie stared at the sign, trying to make sense of the words. Ginger must have noticed, because she leaned over and whispered their meaning to Francie.

  “What does that mean?” Francie whispered back.

  Betty, who was jabbering on about some sort of nonsense, frowned and said, “I don’t think either of you is listening to me at all.”

  Ginger was quick to reply, “We aren’t. There is something odd about this place.” She rubbed her arms and glanced around. “Have you noticed everyone coming out the far door?”

  All three girls turned to see applicant after applicant exit the school with blank expressions.

  “Jeepers, nobody is smiling,” Betty observed.

  “It’s more than that. Look closely.” Francie pointed to where one of their classmates was wandering off the grounds. “Have you ever seen Harvey that calm? Or look, there is Natalie Gregor!”

  Ginger blinked. “Is she crying?”

  Natalie, being one of the cheerleaders, and part of the it crowd, was indeed crying. A strange sense of dread settled in the base of Francie’s spine.

  “I can’t do this,” she muttered.

  Turning, Francie face-planted into a broad chest. Strong hands shot out and clasped her shoulders, keeping her from falling.

  Beet red, Francie yanked herself away and stared up into Dean Woods’ familiar smirk.

  “Going somewhere, Slim?”

  Her eyes nearly bugged out at his use of the nickname she had hoped was long buried.

  “Away from you,” she retorted.

  Francie took a purposeful step around Dean when his hand shot out and wrapped around her slender wrist.

  “Not so fast.” His deep voice rumbled, and she fought to keep the shiver of awareness that threatened to break free.

  “Did you have a point to this conversation, Dean, or are you just being a bully?”

  Dean’s brow rose. “I didn’t know you saw me as a bully. Interesting.”

  Francie didn’t like the way his eyes seemed to mock her. There was a decidedly amused glint that she wanted to erase with her fist. The notion surprised her. Francie had never been the violent type, but there was something about Dean that brought out the worst in her.

  “I should have known you would be here.” Francie tipped her chin up in defiance. “Are you tormenting everyone in line or just me?”

  Dean frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Francie nodded with her head toward where Natalie was getting into her parents’ car.

  His grip on her wrist tightened for a fraction of a second before he surprised Francie and let her go. With a shrug, he said, “Some people aren’t cut out for LPA.”

  “How do you know so much about it?” Ginger asked.

  Dean turned his hot gaze on Ginger and Francie suddenly felt desperate to get his attention back on her. It was so alarming that she pinched her leg to see if she were dreaming.

  Ginger cried out in pain. “Something just bit me!”

  Their eyes swung over to where Ginger was holding her thigh.

  “Was it a bee?” Betty asked with concern.

  “I don’t see anything,” Francie said, checking the ground underneath Ginger’s skirts.

  The only one who hadn’t spoken was Dean. His eyes were glued to Francie, a look of surprise in their depths. The girls fretted over Ginger, who eventually calmed down. “I am sure it was nothing. I am sorry to get you worried.”

  Francie, remembering that Dean had been talking to them, turned to face him—but he was gone. With a frown, she wished that he would come back and then quickly changed her mind. The last thing she needed was Dean Woods rattling her cage.

  “Francie, you’re next!” Betty hissed in her ear as she pushed her forward.

  Francie glanced up to see a tall blonde woman with short cropped hair, a fitted olive-green suit, and short lace gloves. Her heels were of a sensible height but there was something about the ensemble that accentuated her femininity. She was as intimidating as she was beautiful.

  “Name?” The woman’s crisp tones snapped Francie out of her scrutiny.

  “Frances Everette.”

  “Age?”

  “Seventeen,” Francie answered, and so it went for several more questions until the woman seemed satisfied.

  “You will go into the test and have thirty minutes to complete it. If you have not finished in that time you will be asked to leave. Do you have any questions?”

  Francie had a million questions, but none as burning as the one she held closest to her heart. What was going to happen to her when Ginger and Betty passed the test, but Francie didn’t?

  The woman let out an impatient huff. “I asked if you had any questions.”

  Francie’s gaze snapped back to the older woman’s intense gaze. “No, ma’am—that is to say, I don’t have a pencil. Do I need one?”

  The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “That is a question, albeit an inane one. Think about your words before you speak. Not only is it a sign of intelligence, but it is a good practice to know that you aren’t being a chatterbox. As for your question, you won’t need a pencil for this test, Miss Everette. Hurry along now. You are holding up the line.”

  Cheeks hot with embarrassment, Francie turned and entered into the academy. She had no idea who might have heard the woman chastise her, but she knew one thing for certain: this was the last place on earth that she wanted to be.

  The main corridor looked much like any other school she had attended. Following the signs, Francie walked to a set of double doors that led into the school’s gymnasium. The school smelled of fresh paint and the varnish that had been used to seal the gym floor.

  All of this was rather secondary to Francie as she noted that there was not one other person in the gym. In fact, since entering the school, Francie hadn’t seen another living soul. There wasn’t a desk or a pencil, nor any type of test anywhere.

  With a sigh of annoyance, Francie noticed that there was a side door leading to the outside. Perhaps there was someone there who might lead her in the right direction. With purposeful strides, she marched over to the door and swung it open.

  The last person she expected to see was Dean Woods.

  “Oh!” Francie took a step back and then cursed herself. She wasn’t afraid of him.

  Dean’s lips twitched. “Three minutes and fourteen seconds. You are the fastest one today.”

  Francie took a step forward and her brows crashed together. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is. But making people stand in line to walk through an empty school is pretty odd. Don’t you think?”

  Dean’s smirk appeared in full force. “Don’t get frosted, Slim.”

  She bristled at the nickname and at his insinuation that she was angry. Which she was, but that was beside the point.

  He held his hands up. “Truce. I just wanted to tell you that you passed the test.”

  “You have lot of ner—Wait. What?”

  He laughed, and Francie got a little lost in the sheer beauty of it. She had to pinch her leg hard to snap herself out of it.

  Dean’s face settled into a smile that had her stomach in knots. “Go ahead and wait out front for Ginger and Betty.”

  Francie didn’t like being told what to do. However, she was more than happy to leave Dean and the odd way she felt when he was too close—or close at all.

  As she walked away, Dean called to her, “Francie!”

  Turning and propping her hand on her hip, Francie yelled back, “What now Dean?”

  Laughter soft
ened his handsome features. “Stop pinching your leg. Ginger is going to be black and blue.”

  With that, he turned and sauntered away as if he hadn’t just uttered the strangest sentence after she had taken the oddest test on the most unusual day of her young life. Francie thought for the briefest of moments that she might be dreaming.

  But even her imagination couldn’t conjure the perfection that was Dean Woods, swaggering away from her like he hadn’t a care in the world.

  Chapter Seven

  Ginger stood in front of her mirror, eying her reflection dubiously. Turning a critical eye on her body, Ginger scowled at her reflection. No matter how many times she wrapped that ace bandage around her chest, it never had succeeded in shrinking her ample bosom. Not only that, but Ginger had heard her mother telling her aunt that she was blossoming into a lovely hourglass figure—cursed hips!

  With huff that clearly indicated the disgust she felt, Ginger yanked on her skirt. Then, with practiced care, she began to wrap her chest. It was uncomfortable, but Ginger was desperate.

  Betty and Francie might want to look like one of those pin-up girls in the magazine, but Ginger wanted no part of it.

  Securing the ace bandage with a safety pin, Ginger reached for her heavy sweater just as the door came sailing in. Ginger screamed, which caused the person at the doorway to scream as well.

  “You scared the lights out of me!” Francie huffed. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Ginger didn’t answer Francie as she hurriedly yanked the sweater over her hair. It wasn’t until she was certain that she was completely covered that Ginger spoke. “Would it hurt you to knock?”

  Francie cocked a brow. “I have seen you naked before. And besides that, we kind of have the same equipment. What’s going on?”

  Ginger flushed as she crossed the room, attempting to look busy. “That was a long time ago, Francie.”

  Francie took a minute to assess her friend. There were several points of interest. The first being that Ginger was wearing a sweater in May and it was blasted hot already. The second being that Ginger had just mixed up all of her homework papers. But the most telling of all was that she had yet to meet Francie’s gaze.