by Fiona Horne
Oh, who was I kidding? He was super hot, and I was . . . Fish Lips.
He was looking at me questioningly. ‘Do you think I’m weird?’
‘No, Bryce,’ I said, ‘I think you’re really cool.’ And I meant it.
The next night I was scraping plates into the compost bin after the best vegetarian feast I’d ever eaten. Amelia and Alyssa’s mother had made Greek tofu salad, vegetarian lasagne and coconut soy ice-cream with hot cacao sauce for dessert, and I had gorged myself on all of it.
Mrs Torre had fire-red hair like her daughters, but while theirs was wild and curly hers was smooth and straight and hung to her waist. She looked like a hippy, wearing a yellow crocheted top and orange drawstring pants. On each finger she had big crystal and silver rings – even on her thumbs. She caught me looking at them as I helped clear the dishes.
‘Every crystal has a different use.’ She held out her index finger and I examined the large pink stone. ‘This is rose quartz: aligned with love and compassion.’
But it was the black ring shaped a bit like a skull on her thumb that really intrigued me, and I held her thumb lightly, looking closely at the stone.
‘That is one of my most potent pieces – black onyx. The ancient Egyptians carried it to protect them from the dark gods of the underworld.’
I shuddered, but Mrs Torre continued pleasantly, ‘Not that we really need to worry too much about that in these modern times!’
She patted my arm and turned to the twins, who were busy over at the counter making tea – three pots of tea, to be exact. The teapots were made from white, fine bone china and had long elegant spouts and handles shaped like pointy fairy ears. They carried them carefully over to the kitchen table and we all sat down.
‘You must each drink your own fate,’ Mrs Torre said as she presented a teapot and matching cup and saucer to each of us. The words sounded ominous, but she had a twinkle in her eye.
Amelia and Alyssa laughed. ‘Oh, Mom!’ they both said. ‘You’re so dramatic.’
‘Well, your fate is a serious thing to consider,’ Mrs Torre said. ‘The future is created by the steps we take today, after all,’ she finished.
I was excited. It seemed like all of a sudden my life had taken off at a million miles an hour. Three days ago the tree had come down, yesterday Bryce had told me he saw ghosts, and now I was having my tea-leaves read by the psychic mother of my new friends. My head was spinning. Maybe America was the place I was meant to be, after all.
Mrs Torre dimmed the lights. A candle on the table emitted a strong, heady scent. ‘Girls, close your eyes and take a deep breath.’ Her voice sounded silky and hypnotic. I did as she asked, and straight away I sensed a different, otherworldly energy starting to permeate the dining room.
‘Wonderful – I feel the energies are aligned to reveal your destinies. You may now pour your tea,’ Mrs Torre said after a moment.
I opened my eyes and watched Alyssa and Amelia pick up their pots and carefully pour their tea, not spilling a drop. I was a little nervous and had to concentrate to stop myself from splashing it. Steam swirled from the tea like mist as I gazed into the blood-red depths. What were we drinking?
‘Raspberry-leaf tea,’ Alyssa said quietly. It really was amazing the way they could read minds.
‘Drink, girls,’ Mrs Torre commanded.
Together we sipped the slightly bitter tea, slowly and constantly until the last drops were drained, each leaving a small damp pile of leaves in the centre of our cup.
‘Excellent! Now please place the cup upside down on the saucer with the handle facing towards you and turn it three times in a clockwise direction.’
I did this, but as I turned the cup the third time it seemed to get stuck and I couldn’t move the handle back to face me.
Mrs Torre looked at me intently. ‘There is a lot of fate in that cup,’ she said.
‘Really?’ I said hesitantly, not sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
Mrs Torre smiled and turned to the twins. ‘Well, let me begin with Amelia and Alyssa. Joined at the hip as you are, my psychic goddesses, I shall read you together.’
With a flourish Mrs Torre flipped over their cups and gazed into them. Craning my neck, I could see that the leaves had formed intricate patterns that laced the sides of the cups. Mrs Torre seemed pleased.
‘Good grades and some kind of reward are on the horizon for you both. I’m very happy to see this! And . . . you both dye your hair a different colour? We’ll see about that. Ooh, and here’s what you’re getting me for my birthday . . .’ She abruptly put the cups down. ‘Well, let’s keep that a surprise, shall we?’
The twins laughed.
Mrs Torre turned to me and picked up my cup. ‘And now . . . Vania.’ She took a deep breath, and all of a sudden I felt really nervous. What if she saw something awful? Or she said something about Bryce? Although, being psychic and all, I suspected the twins already knew I was feeling self-conscious about crushing on someone else’s boyfriend – even if that someone was Cassidy.
Mrs Torre’s forehead was creased with an intense frown. I looked at my leaves. They weren’t laced like the twins’ had been. Instead, most of mine were clumped together on one side. On the other side there was a shape that looked like a bird.
At last Mrs Torre started talking. ‘At a young age your true path was diverted, but now you are finding your way back. You are smart and rational, but you must learn to let your instincts lead you so that your true power can reveal itself. You will forge a new path alone and leave a trail so others may follow.’
Alone? I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to walk my path with Bryce. Mrs Torre noticed my concern, but that didn’t stop her from telling me something even more alarming.
‘There is a mysterious dark presence around you – a person who wishes you ill.’
I gulped, and the twins looked stricken.
‘C’mon, Mom – you promised you wouldn’t get all heavy,’ Amelia said.
Mrs Torre looked at me intently. ‘Most importantly, you are surrounded by people who love you, Vania, and this love will shield you from misfortune.’
I didn’t feel too reassured.
‘You also have a unique gift, which will stand you in good stead and serve to protect you. It will soon be revealed. All will be well,’ she continued, before reaching over and snuffing out the candle flame with her fingertips.
Four
Magic is the art of creating change with will. I considered the words carefully. I had just finished reading The Sixth Sense and Us, and it had turned out to be a total primer for doing magic. Not the pulling-rabbits-out-of-hats kind of magic, but real magic, where you could change things by willing them to. And I wanted to be able to make things I didn’t like change.
But the book’s explanations were all so esoteric that my brain ached at times trying to make sense of the power of magic. So I instead I translated it into quantum physics terms: everything is energy, and thoughts are energy . . . so thoughts can become things. That was logical.
It still seemed a bit daunting; however, if I gave myself credit for one thing, it was that I’d try anything at least once. So I decided to put the guidance of The Sixth Sense and Us into practice and try changing the things I didn’t like in my life by changing the way I thought about them. And while I was at it, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to learn how to protect myself magically from those who apparently wished me harm. If Mrs Torre’s reading had a grain of truth to it, I needed to be prepared.
My first step was with my parents. Since dinner at the twins’ place I had been thinking a lot about my relationship with Mum and Dad. The twins liked their parents and weren’t afraid to show it. I usually made a point of showing that I didn’t like mine. I knew they did love me in their own cold, distant way, but over the years a huge rift had developed between us. So I decided to be different and try to bridge that gap.
That night I didn’t complain at dinner. My mother had served fish, which was a l
ittle more bearable to me than beef, though for a moment as I looked at the fish head on my plate I did agonise over the depletion of the ocean’s population. But still, I ate all of it without uttering a word of resistance.
And instead of sitting in our usual stifling silence, I chattered away about my ‘great’ day at school and how much I was enjoying making new friends. It was nonsense, mostly, but my father smiled, and my mother was relaxed and excused me from having to wash up.
‘Go and watch TV with your father,’ she said, patting me lightly on the arm.
I watched a cop show with Dad. Not exactly the most relaxing thing to watch before bed, but I did feel like I was bonding with him. And when he offered his cheek for a goodnight kiss, I felt unexpectedly happy. Maybe there really was something to this positive-thinking stuff.
The next morning Amelia and Alyssa were waiting for me at the bus stop outside school.
‘Hey, we had a dream last night about a new guy arriving at our school. We think we should be friends with him,’ Alyssa said.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘Because he looks like he needs one,’ they said together.
I followed their gaze and saw a guy standing by himself on the school steps, staring up at the imposing Victorian facade of the school building like he didn’t know whether to enter or not. He had bad acne and greasy dark hair, and he definitely could’ve done with losing a few pounds. Another misfit, like me – or more like I used to be, now that I seemed to be assembling a few friends.
‘C’mon, let’s talk to him,’ I said to the twins.
I walked up to the guy and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped.
‘Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I said, smiling in what I hoped was a warm and friendly way. ‘I’m Vania and this is Amelia and Alyssa.’ The twins smiled and nodded at him.
‘Uh, I’m Dean . . . Dean Librado. I’m new here.’
His hair was so greasy it was kind of grossing me out, but knowing firsthand what it was like to be judged, I felt bad for him. And at least he didn’t smell bad.
‘Do you need help finding your way around?’ I asked. He smiled gratefully. And, letting positive thinking rule, I noticed he had a nice smile.
‘Yeah, thanks, that would be great. I’m a bit lost. I have a map of the classrooms, but I’m supposed to see the principal and I have no idea where the office is.’
‘We’ll take you there,’ Amelia piped up. ‘We have to go that way anyway. Vania, we’ll see you at lunch.’
For a second I was confused. Why was she taking over? Then I saw she was flicking her eyes behind me. I turned around to see Bryce walking towards us.
‘Cool,’ I said, and then I added to Dean, ‘Nice to meet you – see you later on today.’
The three of them walked up the stairs. Dean was smiling as the girls chattered on together, no doubt saying the same things at exactly the same time.
I felt all warm and fuzzy after my good Samaritan effort, but before I could use my positive thinking on Bryce Cassidy came up behind me and pushed me out of the way. ‘Stay away, Fish Lips,’ she hissed as she passed.
‘Hey Bryce!’ she called out, and he smiled at her. She kissed him on the cheek before looking at me smugly as she linked arms with him. ‘Walk with me,’ she said to him.
Bryce looked at me but didn’t smile or even nod in acknowledgement. In fact, he completely ignored me as he passed by and walked up the stairs with her.
What had just happened? I felt like a total idiot. I stood there alone for a moment before slowly following them inside. It wasn’t like I had much choice.
Down the corridor Bryce was laughing at something Cassidy whispered in his ear. Was he laughing at me? How could I seriously have thought there was anything between him and me – whether we both believed in ghosts or not? No matter how many magical powers I could eventually develop, I would never have the perfect body, blonde hair and cheerleader status that Cassidy had.
Right now the power of positive thinking seemed like a load of crap.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, I had chemistry. And this time Mr Barrow called me up to the front of the class right at the start. He challenged me to solve a complicated formula – made more complicated by the fact that it made no sense. After fifteen minutes of me standing there writing the start of solutions only to have to erase them again, he snatched the marker out of my hand and solved the problem himself. But not before I noticed that he surreptitiously changed some of the equation’s figures so that it would be solvable.
‘So, you are not bulletproof after all, Miss Thorn,’ he sneered as some of the class giggled and I slunk back to my seat. Just like the day Cassidy had teased me on the bus, I started to feel black anger rise in my throat. But when I looked up Mr Barrow was staring at me again in that strange, cold way. All my anger was squished like a bug and I just felt flattened.
By the time I got home I was in a foul mood. I huddled in my room, pretending to do homework but secretlydoing nothing more than wishing for my old, relatively anonymous life in Australia. Mrs Torre’s tea-leaf reading had freaked me out, so that now my friendship with the twins seemed somewhat tainted, to be honest. And as if that wasn’t enough to unsettle me, the meaner Mr Barrow was, the weaker I felt. For some reason I just couldn’t stand up to him the way I normally would. So far this ‘gift’ Mrs Torre had talked about hadn’t reared its head yet, either. And more than anything, I was wishing that Bryce had never walked me home that first time. The angelic halo of sunshine around him that I remembered from that afternoon now brought to mind the fires of hell.
My mother thrust her head around my door. ‘Vania, I saw an interesting recipe on the Food Channel today – a Chinese soup. You know your father loves Chinese food . . . and, umm, it’s vegetarian, with broccoli and tofu. What do you think?’
I nodded and tried to smile; then in a desperate attempt to distract myself from how much my life sucked, I took the plunge and said, ‘Maybe I can help you make it?’
My mother beamed. ‘Oh, that would be just lovely!’
I peeled and chopped the broccoli, and my mother diced coriander and shallots, and together we added pinches of chilli and dashes of soy sauce until, each sipping samples from the same spoon, we agreed that the soup had just the right spicy ‘kick’.
This was the first time my mother and I had ever done anything like this together. It was actually fun, and it distracted me from my problems. The fact that she was embracing my vegetarianism cheered me up.
Even more surprisingly, my father loved the soup. Mum and I watched as he gulped it down enthusiastically.
‘This is delicious. The chicken is so tender,’ he exclaimed as he scooped up a piece of tofu with his spoon.
‘No, honey,’ said my mother. ‘That’s not chicken, that’s tofu.’
Seeing his confused expression, she added a little hesitantly, ‘It’s vegetarian chicken.’
My father continued to frown as he considered this for a moment. ‘Well, if you two are the chefs then I think I can handle this vegetarian stuff,’ he said eventually in a gruff but approving tone.
I was so happy I thought I would cry. It felt like a magical spell had been cast. Who would have thought we would all be sitting there so happily, enjoying dinner together . . . a vegetarian dinner!
But the only spell I had cast was thinking positively and deciding to focus on what did work in my relationship with my parents instead of what didn’t. As I went to bed that night I promised myself I would keep practising the magic of positive thinking, not just with my parents, but with everyone – even Bryce and Cassidy.
The next morning, unfortunately, I woke feeling less confident in my ability to see the best in every situation. I headed into school determined to avoid Bryce and spare myself more heartache – but I resolved I would keep smiling no matter what.
My first challenge presented itself when Mr Barrow cornered me in the corridor as I was attempting to get to maths.
<
br /> ‘Vania Thorn,’ he said, glaring at me. What was his problem?
‘Yes, Mr Barrow?’ I said as politely as I could.
‘I need to speak with you about your test results. Meet me in my office at lunchtime.’ He turned on his heel and strode away.
I stared after him in surprise. I’d scored ninety-six per cent on my test. What was wrong with that?
Morning classes were over all too quickly, and at twelve noon I was reluctantly knocking on Mr Barrow’s office door.
‘Enter!’
I felt like I was on trial in the Spanish Inquisition as I stood in front of his desk through minutes of unbearable silence before he finally looked up and spoke.
‘I find it hard to believe that someone who does not apply themself in class could achieve such high results; this leads me to believe that you are cheating,’ he said.
I was too dumbstruck to respond. Since when did teachers tell you off for being good at something?
‘Silence is insolent and disrespectful,’ Mr Barrow said when I didn’t reply. ‘Be in my laboratory at 3.30 p.m. for after-school detention today. Do not be late.’
‘B-but Mr Barrow,’ I stammered. My mouth had gone so dry I could hardly speak.
‘Three-thirty!’ he snapped.
An hour later I forced myself to walk to English, but my thoughts were all over the place. Why did Mr Barrow have it in for me? Could this have anything to do with the omen in the tea-leaves? Though if anybody wished me ill, surely it was Cassidy. I just wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
The first person I saw when I walked into class was Bryce. He was sitting with Cassidy and two other popular kids. I kept my eyes lowered, allowing my hair to fall forward and shield my face as I slid into a seat on the far side of the room.
We were reading Pride and Prejudice. I had already studied it at school in Australia, and it had become one of my few favourite novels. I was momentarily distracted from my woes as I immersed myself in Jane Austen’s complicated and backstabbing Regency world. But then I heard Bryce laugh, and our eyes met across the room.
