by Sarina Dorie
“Ow! Sorry. It couldn’t wait. I didn’t have time to get you.”
She crossed her arms. “And now you’ve ruined your invisibility cloak and washed out the invisibility. Do you know how expensive those things are?”
“I know. It sucks.”
“As soon as it’s dry, I want you to bring it to me to see if I can fix it. Otherwise, the copy is going to look just as horrible as this one.”
She punched me in the shoulder again. “And don’t sneak off like that again. I’m getting tired of covering for you.”
I was lucky Josie was willing to put up with me. I considered going to Khaba and telling him what I’d seen, but he was already under Gertrude Periwinkle’s spell. I didn’t know how he would react to the news that one of his special friends was seeing her in the forest too. I had to figure out what to do about Miss Periwinkle and prove she was up to no good. More than that, I needed to figure out how her nefarious doings were related to the Raven Court and Derrick’s disappearance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Adventures in Babysitting
The weekend came and went. Not knowing where Derrick was drove me crazy. I didn’t know how to help him. Saturday and Sunday morning, Thatch missed our lesson. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
On Monday morning during my second-period prep, a timid-looking boy came in. Like me, he was covered in a million freckles and petite. He lacked my natural red hair, his being dark brown instead.
“Um… .” His voice was high for a high school student, like he hadn’t yet hit puberty.
“Hello, are you new?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s my first day.”
“Where are you supposed to be?” Not my class. I didn’t have a class this period.
“You’re Miss Lawrence? This is my class.”
“Maybe you have me next period. What’s your name?”
“Trevor Annis.” Poor kid. There would be no end to the teasing he got with that last name. I checked my roster. According to the class list, I had him this period as well as every other period.
“Well, that’s odd. I don’t usually have students during my prep period,” I said. “I’m not sure what to do with you right now.”
He stared at his feet. “That’s what Mr. Puck told me too. I’m a sixth grader. I’m not in high school. Mr. Thatch said I could just stay here today.”
“Mr. Thatch said that?” I wasn’t a babysitter. Why did he do this to me?
“He was the one who found me. I didn’t mean to make the volcano for the science fair spurt out real lava this morning.” He scuffed his shoes against the floor.
Maybe this was why Thatch had missed our meeting. I hoped that was the reason.
“You’re going to be in art all day. Do you think you can handle that?” I asked.
“I like to draw!”
Thank goodness.
During my second-period prep, Trevor followed me around like a silent shadow. I sat him down in a chair with a pencil and paper so I could finish planning my lessons. A few minutes later, I caught Trevor at the supply desk, licking a glue stick.
I left my desk and removed the stick and cap from his hands. “That’s a glue stick. You can’t eat that.”
“Oh,” he said, his cheeks flushing pink between his tan freckles.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I didn’t have time to sneak down to the kitchen. I gave him some granola from my desk, the kind that didn’t have marijuana in it. I’d purchased that one for the school brownies.
“When’s the last time you ate?” I asked.
“Dinner last night.”
That made sense why he devoured the entire bag of granola.
Because it was a B day, I only had even numbered classes. Following second period was fourth period. I caught Trevor chewing on paper. It had been a while since I had taught middle school art. Sure, there had been times I’d caught middle school students licking the salt off the watercolor palettes when we had used salt on our papers to create a snowflake effect. And there had been that time a girl with hot-pink pastels on her hands had asked what would happen if she licked her hand. I’d told her not to, but she’d done it anyway. Those were the silly and immature kinds of behaviors one expected from middle school students.
When I found Trevor nibbling on a crayon fourth period without the provocation of other students, I had no idea what to think.
I took him outside the classroom onto the landing where I could keep an eye on my class and speak to him with some semblance of privacy.
“Trevor, I’ve told you three times not to eat my art supplies in the last two hours. I have a limited amount, and I’m not going to be able to teach classes if you eat the supplies.” I tried to go for my patient teacher voice, but I didn’t know how well I managed it. “What’s going on?”
“I know. I’m sorry, Miss Lawrence. I’m just nervous, and when I’m nervous, I need to chew on something.” His brown puppy-dog eyes broadcast his earnest regret. “When we packed my bag to come here, my mom didn’t pack any gum for me.”
“Licking my glue sticks is not the same as chewing.”
“I thought it was a push pop. My mom didn’t pack my glasses either.”
“Didn’t the glue stick taste kind of … yucky?” I would think he’d be able to tell the difference.
“It wasn’t that bad. It was better than my dad’s mashed potatoes.”
At least this kid had a family. “Let’s see if you can get through the rest of the period without sticking anything in your mouth. We only have thirty minutes until lunch. Then you can eat your fill. I want you to find something in the cafeteria you can put in your backpack for a snack this afternoon so you aren’t tempted to chew on my supplies.”
“I didn’t bring a bag. My mom forgot to—”
“Agh! Just fill your pockets or stuff them up your sleeves. Or whatever,” I said, about to tear my hair out. Why was this kid getting to me? I dealt with way worse—kids who intentionally destroyed my supplies. I took a few calming breaths.
“Will you show me where the lunchroom is?” he asked.
“Yes. I have to go down there for my cafeteria duty.”
“Will you sit by me? I don’t know anyone here yet.”
“We’ll see.”
When the bell rang, students rushed out. I walked around the classroom, picking up pencils and paper they’d left out.
“I’m ready for lunch,” Trevor said.
My closet door burst open with such force it slammed against the stone wall. I expected to see Thatch, but no one stood there. The air shifted and shimmered. I thought I saw a patch of flesh color flash near a chair.
Ragged breathing sounded from the far side of the classroom. Something scuffed against the floor. A chair toppled over. I stared in confusion, uncertain what kind of magic caused this.
“It’s a ghost!” Trevor screamed and leapt behind me.
Another chair skidded back, and something large thudded onto the floor. Ghosts didn’t stumble into a classroom.
An invisible man did.
I rushed around the U-shaped arrangement of desks.
“Derrick?” I asked.
A groan answered me.
I tripped over one of his legs and nearly crashed into the wall. Crouching on the floor, I felt around until I found him. I peeled back his cap to reveal his face. My hope and half a second of relief curdled in my stomach.
He had a black eye and a swollen lip. His face was bruised and battered. I thought about the Raven Queen and her plan to leave him for me to find.
“Are you all right?” Without waiting for an answer, I fumbled with his invisible coat and unzipped it. I lifted his T-shirt to examine his chest. His skin was intact. No entrails hung out. His ribs were bruised, and a blistered burn covered one side of his stomach.
He opened his eyes. His voice came out a raspy croak. “Water.”
> My water bottle was on my desk. I pointed to Trevor who stood next to the supply desk. “Get my water bottle.”
He stared at Derrick. A crayon fell out of his mouth.
“Now,” I said.
He shuffled over to my desk and threw the water bottle at me. It hit the wall and rolled. I dove for it and crouched at Derrick’s side again. I lifted his head and tipped water into his mouth. He momentarily choked and then kept drinking. He didn’t try to sit up or grab the bottle. He closed his eyes, and his head sank into my hand. This didn’t bode well.
I snapped my fingers at Trevor. “Go downstairs and tell Mr. Khaba I need help. It’s an emergency. Tell him it’s Invismo.”
He froze. His hand was in the tub of crayons. “I don’t know who Mr. Khaba is.”
“The first person you see, tell them Miss Lawrence needs Khaba. It is an emergency.”
“What about lunch? You said you were going to show me where the lunchroom is.”
“For the love of God, get help! You can eat lunch afterward.” I didn’t mean to shout at the poor kid, but my patience had evaporated.
Trevor ran off.
I removed my sweater and placed it under Derrick’s head to make him more comfortable. He groaned. I locked the doors before returning to Derrick’s side. I didn’t want anyone walking in and seeing him.
“What happened?” I asked. “Where have you been? How did you get hurt?”
He opened his eyes. He managed a single word, fury and fear alight in his eyes. “Thatch.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Abra-Cadaver
Ten minutes later I sat with Derrick’s head on my lap, dabbing at the crusts of blood and dirt on his face. Khaba materialized in my classroom in a puff of smoke. He exclaimed something in another language and rushed forward. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” I filled him in on what Derrick had said and how he’d arrived. “What are we going to do?”
Khaba paced my room. “I can tell you what we aren’t going to do. We aren’t bringing him to the infirmary. I don’t want anyone to know about this.”
“Thank goodness. Nurse Hilda is a nightmare.” She would probably make him drink her bat-dung elixir, and he’d get E. coli. As if he didn’t have enough problems.
“And you aren’t going to try to confront Thatch or do anything rash. I need to talk to Derrick when he wakes and find out what happened.”
“Rash? Why do people always use that word? I’m not rash.”
Khaba held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Impulsive, then. Promise me you won’t do anything impulsive like gouge Thatch’s eyes out.”
Derrick moaned. I leaned closer, smoothing my fingers over his face. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re with Khaba and me. We’ll take care of you.”
Derrick’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t reply.
“Who’s on duty downstairs in the lunchroom?” Khaba asked.
Craptacular. “Me?”
He grimaced.
“This is more important,” I said. “You aren’t going to make me monitor the lunchroom now, are you?”
“Ask Josie to cover for you. Meet me in Derrick’s room when you’re done. And bring some water and something for him to eat. Soup.”
I rushed downstairs. Josie stood at a table, heaping food onto her plate, looking like she was about to sneak out of the cafeteria. I quickly filled her in. From her sigh, I could tell she wasn’t happy about covering for me, but she said she’d do it.
I piled a plate with food and grabbed a pitcher of water before trekking across the school to Derrick’s wing. Khaba sat in the chair next to Derrick’s bed. He’d removed Derrick’s hat and shoes. It was disconcerting not seeing the lower half of his body, encased in the invisibility socks and kilt he’d found.
I set down the tray on the low table next to the bed, scooting art supplies aside to make room. “Has he said anything?”
Khaba smoothed a hand over his bald head. “No.”
I kneeled on the bed and shimmied Derrick’s coat down his shoulders to free it from him. Khaba scooted closer and helped me. Derrick grunted in his sleep when I grabbed his bruised arm. We removed the invisibility clothes and the bloody T-shirt he wore. I blushed when I found he wasn’t wearing anything under his kilt. I covered him with his blankets.
This was like the time he’d undressed me when I’d puked all over myself after my sister put something in my drink in high school. He had felt embarrassed and had feared I would feel violated and taken advantage of later. But I hadn’t. He’d behaved honorably, his actions reasonable. I could only hope he would feel the same way about me undressing him.
I smoothed his blue hair out of his eyes and kissed his forehead. I would do anything for Derrick.
“Lunch break is almost over,” Khaba said. “I’m going to need you to go to class.”
I nodded, staring at Derrick’s face. Even in the refuge of sleep, his jaw was clenched, and his forehead creased with worry lines.
“I need you to make it through the rest of the day.” Khaba patted my shoulder. “Behave normally. Don’t let on we’ve found him. Understand?”
I nodded again. My throat tightened, and I found I couldn’t answer. I trudged to the door.
“Clarissa,” Khaba said. “Be careful around Thatch.”
I struggled to make it through the afternoon. Worry consumed me. Every minute away from Derrick tormented me. Halfway through fifth period, I found Trevor with a wad of paper in his mouth. I should have chided him, but my own stomach grumbled, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten lunch.
I didn’t have any more granola either. My brain was in a fog. The hours passed as slow as molasses, but whatever those minutes contained eluded me. Students were rowdy and threw supplies at each other. I lost track of the time and didn’t give them enough time to clean up. They left a mess when the bell rang, and I didn’t tidy up the room for eighth period.
I feared Thatch had tortured Derrick. Or the Raven Queen had. Chills prickled my skin when I thought about those glimpses of memory the Queen of Pain and Pleasure had given him.
At three p.m. the bell rang, and students rushed out. I robotically picked up papers and pencils from the floor. Trevor followed me from table to table like a lost puppy. I tried to recall what I had planned for my A-day classes.
“That was fun. Now what should I do?” Trevor asked.
“I guess you could go to the library.” Let Miss Periwinkle figure out what to do with him when he ate her books. “Or one of the school clubs.”
His voice was high. He sounded more nervous than ever. “Can’t I just stay with you?”
“I have something to do after school. I can’t bring you with me.”
“Does it have to do with that ghost with blood all over himself earlier?”
I tried to phrase the words for what I wanted to say without piquing his curiosity. “It might be a good idea not to talk about that ghost. I don’t want you to start any rumors and for people to be upset by it.”
“Oh.”
Hailey Achilles walked through the door. “I’m here. Let’s get this party started.”
“What? Why are you here now?” I asked. I needed to leave. I couldn’t have students coming in.
“Duh. Art Club. Don’t you remember?”
Craptacular.
Hailey looked Trevor up and down. “Who’s this rug rat?”
“Hi, I’m Trevor. I’m going to try not to eat any more glue today.”
Hailey’s eyes narrowed, and she looked to me. “Is he for real?”
“Mr. Thatch found Trevor. He’s in the sixth grade, but he needs somewhere to go because of his magic.” I added in my firm teacher tone. “Be nice.”
Hailey shrugged.
Imani, Greenie, and Maddy skipped in a moment later.
“It’s a boy,” Maddy whispered. “I thought only girls were going to be in Art Club.”
“No,�
� I said. “I’m not excluding anyone from Art Club. Boys and girls are allowed.”
I was confident she could handle being around young men now that she was learning how to channel her affinity.
Trevor smiled shyly at her. “Are you a teacher?” he asked.
Even with the glamour spell on Maddy that Miss Periwinkle had used to tone down her siren beauty, she was still tall and blonde with high cheekbones. Her curves gave her the buxom appearance of an adult, but she was only a freshman.
The girls giggled.
“I need to run some errands,” I said to the girls. “Watch Trevor while I’m out, and make sure he doesn’t eat any art supplies. Take him to dinner with you and show him around. When it’s time to get ready for bed—”
“Whoa, are you asking us to babysit this kid?” Hailey asked.
“I’m not a baby,” Trevor said. “I’m eleven.”
Greenie patted a chair next to her with a green hand. “Come on, little guy. We don’t bite.”
“Much,” Hailey said.
Trevor timidly stepped forward, seating himself between Greenie and Maddy.
I continued, “When it’s time for bed, find one of the male teachers to show Trevor where he’s going to sleep.”
“Where are you going?” Imani asked.
Two more students walked in the door.
“Is this where Art Club meets?” the boy asked. He looked human in aspect, but a scaly tail protruded from the seat of his pants.
I pointed to Imani and Greenie. “I leave you in charge of Art Club.” I pointed to Hailey. “No fire. No magic. No burning down my classroom.”
“Sheesh. You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”
Khaba was gone from Derrick’s room when I returned. I didn’t like the idea of him leaving Derrick alone and not locking the door, but I didn’t have a key, and I didn’t know where he kept his room key. It worked in my best interest Khaba hadn’t locked the door; I just didn’t know if it was in Derrick’s best interest.
The room smelled of herbs. When I sat on the bed, I found places on his face and arms covered in green salves. Derrick slept, occasionally stirring. I sat beside him in the bed, sketching in one of his books. I used quick lines to draw the angles of his face, trying to capture his essence in a caricature like he did. I omitted the black eye and bruises.
