by Amber Lynn
Knowing that there are Fae hanging around, it isn’t my brightest idea. I kind of thought I looked cute in the get-up though, so I’m seesawing on options.
“Yes, I was aware we wouldn’t be alone here. Like I said, I’m hoping you can find someone to make you think about more than what you want. I figured with this small of a dose, you wouldn’t blow anything up.”
I discard my fashion dilemma for a second and turn in my seat to study Mommie Dearest. She’s even perkier than usual. Our conversation hasn’t necessarily proven that, but there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s been up since four o’clock, drinking straight espressos and spending an hour or two straightening her hair.
She passed her curly locks down to me. I’ve never been able to tame mine like she does hers. I’m guessing it’s part of my curse.
“So, you’re letting me play around with Fae, just not our kind of Fae. Why in the world couldn’t I feel them at home?”
Rather than answer, Mom opens her door and puts one of her long legs on the pavement outside. She seems to be channeling Mrs. Kline with the tailored pantsuit she’s got on. I can’t say I find many colors of pink extremely tasteful, but the sort of not too bright, not too light color of the suit isn’t horrific.
We definitely don’t look like we shop the same racks for clothes.
She finishes her escape from the car in one graceful motion, while I fumble around the door handle trying to get it to open. I’m not going to lie. I generally use my magic to do anything and everything. That’s no excuse for me fumbling a bit with the door, but I’m going to go with it being the reason the effort for me to get out doesn’t match Mom’s.
I could use magic, but remember those rules I mentioned? Number one, and the only one that really matters, is that humans cannot know we exist. It seems overly cliché to me. That being said, one of my fallouts with the Council was over someone seeing me do magic.
Poor girl. She had her brain totally wiped.
Mom glances around the parking lot as I close my door. I follow her gaze, not seeing a single thing that would catch her interest. There are some cars, but none as flashy as our silver sedan. I tried to get her to opt for a sports car when it came time to restart our lives, but she always has to be so dang practical. Still, I’m not knocking the heated leather seats and entertainment system that I highly doubt any of the other cars around us are sporting.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a black cat walking across the grass and right up the stairs to the front of the school. The thing looks bedraggled, sort of like it was plucked out of the bathtub or something. Knowing there aren’t only humans around us makes me wonder if it’s just a cat or something a little more magical. Not that cats can’t be magical on their own.
For my kind, there are some out there that serve as conduits for our magic. I don’t have one, but with all the sparks in the air, maybe it’s time I think about getting one. At the very least, I could make it like a battery and store up energy for the next time my mom decides to move to a no-magic zone.
“I thought it for the best that you didn’t know right away there are others here,” Mom says, bringing me out of my plans for a new pet.
“You Fae blocked me?”
My words come out a little louder than I intend, but the honest wounding I felt couldn’t be tampered down. I don’t doubt there are times my mother likes to use her magic to control my actions, to some extent. I just can’t believe she’s been going around blocking others from me. It makes me wonder if a guy in our last town was really the toad I thought he was.
“I blocked them too, so don’t get all defensive. Do you want to sit through paper signing and all that fun stuff, or would you rather go straight to your first class? Mrs. Kline sent me your suggested schedule last night for me to approve.”
And of course, Mom probably approved all the boring classes I could handle. It is sort of nice that she isn’t making me sit through Mrs. Kline’s torture, so I’m going to give her a little slack. Plus, I don’t mind being the first to class, so I can get a feel for seating arrangements and not mess around with a forced introduction the second I walk in. I haven’t ever had to experience one myself, but I’ve seen them in movies.
Chapter Five
I’m on my way to the third class of the day, and I’m starting to think not only did my mom conspire to put me in all the snooze-fest classes, but she also made sure Fae were not in attendance. It came as no surprise that Etiquette was class numero uno. It was forty-five minutes of my life that I will never get back.
I suppose the only real surprise about the class is that it still exists. It feels like in the last thirty years or so the masses in general have forgotten what common decency is. I practically slept through the boring class, but if more people took it, I’d reckon the world wouldn’t be such a dark place.
Stop laughing. I know that sounds hilarious coming from my messed-up brain, but it goes without saying that people treat each other like crap these days. Not that there hasn’t always been some of that going on.
Anyway, Algebra wasn’t much better. I know every math equation there is, and not once have any of them really come in useful. If at some point I did use some magical mathematic formula in my long life, I assure you it was by mistake.
Walking into World History, I know the class is going to be different than the first two. First up, I’m really hoping the teacher says something wrong that I can correct with my extensive knowledge on the subject. It’s kind of the moment I’ve been waiting for to get me through the day.
Secondly, it’s the last class before lunch, and I’m totally ready to check out the good ol’ cafeteria and see the full student body. I haven’t been able to get a great feel on the divide into their little cliques, so I can see the order of things. There aren’t any plans of making friends on my part. I just want to observe and verify school hasn’t changed any over the years.
The third reason why World History is perking me up is because it isn’t full of humans. I’ve arrived at all my classes before the other students – believe me that it’s an easy task when they’re busy gossiping in the halls between classes. I had already found the seat Mrs. Renaud pointed me towards when I felt the elemental walk in.
You can bet my eyes widened and my pulse ticked up to hyperdrive. I’ve felt the other Fae around the building, but they’ve felt so far away all day. Having one within the same room has moved my focus away from embarrassing the teacher to finding out more about the girl.
Of course, the brunette is three rows in front of me and two rows to my left. That makes it a little difficult for me to sit there and pass notes back and forth. I can’t believe I just thought that. Being in high school is clearly rubbing off on me.
“Can anyone tell me who famously said, ‘I shall return’ in World War II?”
Mrs. Renaud has been droning on for twenty minutes about the war. So far, I haven’t heard anything I can question, but I haven’t been listening all that closely. I’ve been trying to focus on reading the elemental’s thoughts. I don’t know if she’s able to block the skill or if my powers are weaker than I thought. Clearly, I’m not picking anything up.
“Jazz, do you know the answer?”
I hear my name but ignore it as I look around the room to see two arms are up in the air, waiting to be called upon. Evidently, Mrs. Renaud has decided to see what I’m made of.
I focus on the middle-aged woman. Being stuck looking seventeen forever, I’m a terrible judge of age, but the crow’s feet visible as her dark eyes narrow in my direction and the easy-to-notice blonde hair coloring from a bottle make me think she’s over forty. I’m not seeing any specific age-spotting or wrinkles, but she’s got a thick enough layer of makeup on that those things are easily hidden.
“MacArthur. Did you know his father was a Union soldier and his mother was from a Confederate family? Can you imagine how much fun holiday shindigs were? How about the fact that he and his father were the first father-son duo to both w
in the Medal of Honor? Oh, and we can’t forget that he once blew chunks all over the White House steps. Interesting man, but not my favorite general.”
The room is quiet after I finish my long-winded answer. I feel the movement of people turning in their extremely uncomfortable and small chairs to get a look at the crazy new girl. I never said I had an intention of lying low, being noticed is kind of my thing.
“Maybe you’d like to share with the class your favorite.”
There’s something just a little evil about the way the teacher’s lips curl into a smile. I get the feeling she doesn’t expect me to come up with an answer. I hate to disappoint her, but the hunks leading men and women into battle are one of my specialties.
“It really depends on the day. It’s Thursday, so I’d have to say Hannibal. I generally rotate between him and Alexander. Can you imagine if those two went head to head? I would kill to sit on the sidelines of that battle.”
I wasn’t around during their times, and am not friendly with anyone who was, but I heard neither of them were exactly human. They were born human, but they caught the eye of a legendary enchanter, who played around with them both for a while before moving on to her next conquests.
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of growing up to be like Arria. The tales of her brains and beauty are taught to every female enchanter from the day they are born.
“Really?”
I like the sound of astonishment Mrs. Renaud lets escape with the simple word. I imagine the goth look I have going made her think I lacked a love for the subject she’s teaching.
“I’m kind of obsessed with the Battle of Cannae, so yeah.”
Obsessed may be a little strong, but I’ve stood on the battlefield and soaked in the tens of thousands of life forces still wandering the spots they were slain. Talk about a high that’s hard to get over.
“Really?”
The repeat of the word wasn’t as astonished. The way the end of it sunk down an octave made me think I’ve stepped into something.
“We don’t often spend much time on that period in this class, but since it sounds like you’re so well versed, maybe you can lead the class the day we go over it.”
I’m not sure whether to be mortified or honored. I’m leaning towards mortified. That’s what a normal teenager would be, right?
“I’m pretty sure no one wants to sit through a day of listening to me yammer on about history.”
I drum my fingers on the top of my desk. There’s no reason to show my brain is already filtering through all the options of show and tell elements I could work into the lesson. I’ve heard they frown upon students bringing weapons to school, but if it’s for an educational purpose, they can’t really protest, right?
“We’re still a number of weeks away from that lesson, so why don’t we talk about it more when we get closer.”
The teacher paused for a second to open a thick textbook on the desk behind her. The thing probably made a pretty good paperweight, even though it was a bit large. Point is, I don’t put much faith in a textbook telling me anything.
“Moving on, turn in your books to page fifty-seven and use the rest of class to read about World War II. I know it’s still the first week of school and no one wants to think about homework yet, but I want everyone to write a paper, let’s say around five hundred words, about what history can teach us.”
Somehow, I restrain myself from saying something that would get me in trouble. There’s no way my mom can say I’m not trying.
I sit patiently for a few seconds, waiting to see if the teacher realizes on her own that she never gave me a textbook. Patiently is sort of putting it kindly. I’ve picked up a pencil and am thumping the eraser end on my desk. I start off slow, but as the seconds tick by, the tapping gets louder.
“Do you have a problem?”
The question comes from my right. I’d been focused on the Fae in the room, so I hadn’t taken a close catalog of the other students keeping me company. Turning my head, I see a boy with his elbows on his desk and hands on either side of his face. His face is turned down, assumedly concentrating on the words in the book on the desk.
With his face obscured, all I get for his general appearance is short sandy hair and a thick black arm from a pair of glasses tucked behind his ear. The kid is in pressed khakis and a blue and tan checkered shirt. I have no problem seeing him for what he is even before getting a good look at him.
He’s a geek, or nerd. I’m never sure if there’s a difference between the two.
“Yeah, I have a problem. We were just told to spend the rest of class reading something I don’t have access to. As interesting as my desk is with all these scribbles from ghosts of students past, I’d prefer to see how that particular textbook portrays our riveting past.”
I’ll admit, my voice is a few steps above my normal indoor level. If Mrs. Renaud would’ve taken notice before Jimmy Poindexter, I would’ve just smiled and asked her for a little help.
It’s sort of annoying that even as other people in the room look in my direction, good ol’ Jimmy just keeps reading. It’s not like I want him to look at me. It’s just rude.
“Here you go, Jazz. I should’ve made sure you were all set when you came in.”
Mrs. Renaud appears at my desk. I smile, watching my vocal neighbor out of the corner of my eye to see if her presence makes a difference. I don’t expect anything, and that’s exactly what I get.
“Thanks, Mrs. Renaud. I’m so sorry for any disruption I may have caused.”
The teacher returns my smile and walks away without saying anything. I shrug and start flipping through the book. I still have about fifteen minutes until the bell rings for lunch. That’s plenty of time to get through at least the first half of the book.
Chapter Six
Lunchrooms are like a world all their own. I haven’t spent much time in them, but a mere five minutes has left me fascinated.
I assumed Fae would gather around their own tables to laugh at how boring the humans are. Or at the very least talk about more interesting things than mundane topics like the weather. Seriously. There are five girls sitting across the room from me, idly eating their food as they talk about how it’s been unusually sunny.
Honestly, I have no idea what the world is coming to. Some of the Fae are even intermingling at the human tables. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. When I got the news Fae called our new little town home, I anticipated the fun in store for me.
Seeing the state of things just makes me sad. Not necessarily sit around and cry all day sad. Maybe more of a disgusted kind of feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I’ve already mentioned that my lovely mother has done her best to keep me away from Fae in recent years. I can only assume her attempts were to make sure I didn’t cause the revolt I feel percolating in my blood.
“You really think they’re so much lesser than us?”
From the snooty tone, I instantly know that the female speaking and myself are either going to be best friends or I’ll end up killing her. Knowing me, it’ll probably be the latter.
Instead of acknowledging the intruder, I push the lumps of mashed potatoes around on my plate. The food offerings are about as horrible as the people around me. The lady dishing up the gruel claimed it was Salisbury steak, but she clearly has no idea what those words mean. A lifeless patty smothered in sewage isn’t my idea of fine dining. Don’t get me started on the lumpy potatoes or the yellow bits they insist are corn kernels.
Giving up on the food, I glance up to the elemental from History. Of course, I knew it was her before looking. Elementals have this weird earthy vibe to them. I swear you can taste dirt in your mouth whenever one is around. That’s not a great sensation – the bits of grit in between your teeth make you want to run to find a toothbrush.
I’m starved enough for a little Fae contact that I don’t mind. Plus, I neglected to bring my toothbrush with me. For some reason, I didn’t think I’d need to brush my teeth mult
iple times during the day.
“Are you reading my mind, or is the fact that I’m cloaking myself at this little old table what gave me away?”
The chances of her being able to read my mind are non-existent. I had hoped I could observe a little longer without being interrupted, but I didn’t block the other Fae from seeing me, just the humans.
The girl’s eyes are harsh, almost like looking in a mirror, but not quite. Instead of my green eyes looking back, I’m staring into brown eyes with gold glitter sparkling through them. I can’t read how old she is, but she doesn’t seem to be stuck in a gangly teenager phase like me.
Her skin has soaked up the sun like mine can only long to do. I look like a freaking ghost compared to her, which doesn’t lead me to think the whole friend thing is going to work between us.
“A little of both I suppose. Not so much your mind, but the look on your face of pure disgust spells it out just fine.”
“I’m all about transparency.”
The only thing me and Ellie have in common seems to be our thin figures. At least that’s what I’m picking up from my quick perusal. I can’t see her knees under her tight jeans, but I assume they aren’t knobby like mine.
I’m calling her Ellie because of the whole elemental thing, but I may switch it to Enemy Number One. There is no way the two of us are going to get along. I don’t have to read her body language or mind to figure that out.
Am I being a little judgmental with this revelation? Of course, but you’ve got to know that’s how I roll.
“So, who runs this place?”
There’s no reason to try for any niceties, so I might as well get straight to the point. The dynamics in the lunchroom are so chaotic that it’ll probably take me a week to figure things out on my own. I don’t have the kind of patience needed for the grunt work.
“Obviously, it’s your first day, but I assume you know how schools work. They have these things called principals.”
