by L. A. Jones
“You’re not allowed,” Jensen had said. Recognizing the will of their leader, the other kids backed him up.
“I wanna play King with you,” Aradia repeated.
“You can’t play with us!” Jensen yelled at her. “You have a stupid name.”
It wasn’t even much of an insult, but it was enough. She looked around at the circle of kids which had formed around them. They were all laughing. She felt like she was spinning out of control. That was when she screamed and shoved Jensen as hard as she could.
For a second or two he was actually airborne, before crashing to the earth and rolling several meters.
The other kids stopped laughing.
By now the teachers were finally involved, and they broke up the commotion. It turned out Jensen had broken his arm in the fall, and he had a cast for six weeks afterward. For those six weeks, that cast was a constant reminder to everybody that Aradia was different than they were. Jensen asked every student in class to sign it, other than her.
There wasn’t any official fallout with the school. Everybody knew Jensen was a troublemaker, but now Aradia was on the radar too. Perhaps more devastating was the fact that Jensen was the youngest of four siblings, and his parents were well established members of the school community.
Ross and Liza were none-too-popular themselves after the skirmish.
There were other oddities as well, of course. Aradia never got sick; she never even got the sniffles. The most off-putting display of her powers, to most people, was that she often seemed to know if something was going to happen just seconds before it actually did.
As she grew she learned to control and hide these abilities, but as a young girl she couldn’t help herself.
Needless to say, she was familiar with being isolated from her peers.
The bullying was hard to deal with, and it didn’t end with kindergarten, or with Jensen. Much worse than that, though, was that in her heart she believed the other kids were right to be afraid of her. She really had hurt Jensen, and as she grew, so did her powers and her strength. As a five year old, she broke a boy’s arm. What would happen if she lost control again when she was much more powerful? How could she be anything but an outcast?
Aradia’s memories fast forwarded six years. Jensen was long gone, but she doubted there was a shortage of Jensens in the world. She was in middle school, and there had been another boy who had taken to calling her names. This one, named Kasey, went the extra mile of mockery and spread horrible rumors about Aradia.
For more than a year, Aradia had begrudgingly put up with his behavior. Contradicting the rumors proved fruitless, and confronting him was not an option that she allowed herself.
Then he went further than he should have.
Aradia had been walking down the halls, just like she always did and just like always, all the other students were arranged in their groups of exclusivity. Unlike normal, however, they all seemed to notice her. Most days she doubted anybody even remembered she was there.
And she recognized the look in their eyes, the way their mouths curled up in malicious smiles. Something was going on, something very bad.
She knelt down to set her bag in front of her locker. It wasn’t until she rose turn the combination that she noticed a flyer taped on her locker.
It looked like the cover of a Playboy magazine.
“Charming,” she muttered to herself.
She was just about to tear it down and wad it up when she realized it wasn’t quite what she’d first thought. It was indeed the printout of a Playboy cover, but whoever had made it had photoshopped onto the model the face of Aradia's mother.
She hadn’t made anything of it at first, but she’d seen dozens of students either holding or looking at handouts on her way into school.
For the first time since she was five, she did not hold back.
A group of three girls had been passing her way, holding a flyer and giggling. Aradia grabbed the leader of the pack by her sweater with enough force that she dropped the flyer and her notebook.
“Hey!” the girl, whose name Aradia neither knew nor cared about, protested. “Lay off!”
“Not the mild-mannered bitch you’re used to, huh?” Aradia said. The girl struggled, but Aradia’s fists might as well have been steel vices. “Who gave you the flyer?”
“Lay off, freak!”
“Who gave you the flyer, hmm?” Aradia demanded.
Her anger was such that she was well beyond shouting. No, her voice was amazingly level in tone, but just as firm and unyielding as her grip.
“Kasey gave it to me. He gave out all of them. Let go of me!”
She didn’t really need to add the last bit. Aradia was already on the move.
She used a more mild form of her summoning ability to find her foe. It didn’t have any visual manifestations, and was weaker than her bright, glowing light, but it could lead her in the right direction if she was close to what she sought and her will was strong enough. Unfortunately for Kasey, her will was strong, and she was very close.
He saw her coming. He was on the second floor of the Stevens Library, which was probably where he’d made the copies of his flyer.
“Heya Rai,” he gloated, knowing that was a nickname her mom used for her. “How’s it–”
He didn’t get the chance to complete his sentence though. Aradia accelerated to a full sprint in the few final steps between the two of them. She flung aside the table he’d been sitting at and barreled right through him with a tackle that would have made an NFL linebacker proud.
Aradia wasn’t thinking about how strong she was or how far her lunge might propel them. She also wasn’t thinking about the fact that they were on the second floor and in front of a window. In the moment, lost in her rage, she just didn’t care.
Both she and Kasey plunged straight through the window and down, landing with two hard thuds on the concrete parking lot below.
Aradia was actually hurt far worse than Kasey. Yet, with her enhanced healing, she recovered from the worst of her injuries in just a few days.
Kasey, miraculously, suffered far less than he could have. He took some cuts to his neck and arms from the glass of the window and broke three ribs, but that was the extent of his injuries. The doctor who examined Kasey impressed upon him how much worse it could have been.
Given the nature of the situation, it was difficult for the Prestons to convince Kasey’s family not to press charges. For them it was Jensen all over again, only older now, and with potentially greater repercussions. Ironically, Aradia would have probably ended up in juvie if not for Kasey himself. He had strongly urged his parents to let the whole situation go. Partly, he recognized he’d been a jerk to pull the stunt he’d pulled. Stronger, though, was that he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the fact that he’d been thrown through a window by a girl.
After that episode, her parents, who had already been discussing leaving Arizona for Aradia's benefit, decided enough was enough.
The Prestons would have accepted the first jobs that came their way. It worked out, by chance, that the first jobs to open were actually pretty promising. Ross’s career had plateaued in Arizona, and Liza found a very fitting position at Salem High. Not only were they expanding their art department and looking for a new art teacher, but their guidance counselor had, on short notice, decided to make her maternity leave permanent. Liza’s experience and education made her a very qualified candidate for both positions.
Without much more thought, the Prestons packed their things, and never looked back.
Or Ross and Liza never looked back, at least. Aradia couldn’t really help but do so.
She wasn’t sorry to leave. The only thing she really hated was hate itself, so she wouldn’t say she had hated Arizona. She had certainly strongly disliked it, though. Nonetheless, she was reluctant to start the whole unpleasant process of social isolation over from the start.
You never know, she gave herself a mental pep talk, you might find
exactly what you are looking for. You might find the one thing you want most in the entire world right here in Salem. You might find friends.
Suddenly, Aradia was no longer back in Arizona, or contemplating her future. She was back in the moment, gazing out the window at the sidewalks and buildings which would be her new home. She was jerked from her reverie with the realization that her father had just spoken to her.
“Sorry, what did you just say?” she asked.
"Are you sure you're okay with my driving you to school?" Ross repeated.
"Of course it is, Daddy," Aradia confirmed.
"Sorry. I guess I am projecting a bit," Ross said sighing.
Aradia bit her tongue. You’re not the only one who’s nervous you know!
"Hey c'mon, Daddy. You'll be great. I know you will," she eventually said.
"Is that run of the mill motivation or your unique all knowingness?" Ross asked his daughter, cocking his head to the side with a grin.
Aradia frowned and said, "You know, Daddy, just because I can occasionally do the whole 'Medium' thing, it does not mean I can predict everything about the future."
"I know honey, I’m just teasing you," Ross said smiling.
Aradia loved it when her father made light of her abilities. It somehow made them feel more normal. She smiled despite her own nervousness and said, "The fact is, Dad, I haven’t been able to sense much at all about what we can expect here in Salem. It’s kind of weird, actually. I’ve seen less than usual, and I’ve been trying.”
“Maybe that’s why you’ve seen less,” he proposed. “Maybe you need to just let it come to you.”
She considered before replying, “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s weird. Like this place is… special.”
Ross didn’t reply to that.
After a few moments, Aradia continued, “I think there are some things in life you need to see to know for sure, but other things you can figure out without any psychic flashes."
"And all of us being happy in our new home is one of those things?" asked Ross.
Aradia grinned, and though she was anything but certain, she said confidently, "Damn right."
Chapter Four
As her father drove her through the main entrance, Aradia noted that Salem High appeared to be a stereotypical American high school. It was primarily brick and plaster, with exposed metal struts and enough marble to show it had some prestige. The individual buildings that made up the school were all large with almost-opaque windows. The school's name was embossed in large, bold, red letters near the roof, prominently displaying both its notability and its notoriety.
The school itself seemed isolated. A low fence bordered the school, creating a weak but meaningful division between the students and the community.
As for facilities, it was equipped with the usual football field and track. Salem High also boasted a half-Olympic size swimming pool, which was pretty noteworthy. Aradia couldn’t make those features out yet first hand, but she could form clear mental images from the pictures she’d seen on the SHS website and Facebook page. The school’s Twitter feed hadn’t really been too helpful for her in that regard.
According to Aradia's intel, her new alma mater also boasted an impressive computer lab, classrooms of approximately fifteen to twenty students per teacher, an assembly hall, not one but two gyms, and a library.
A single-story library, Aradia recalled with a sigh of relief.
The one thing that definitely set Salem High School apart, though, was the black logo of a witch riding on a broomstick that seemed to be etched onto every facet of the school, including the website’s header.
“Have a great first day, Aradia,” her father wished her well.
“You too, Daddy,” she replied. He gave her a sharp, curt nod. Most people might have brushed the gesture off, but Aradia knew that from her father, it was a sign of both thanks and respect.
She stepped down from her father’s SUV and watched as he drove off, obeying the school’s five mile per hour on-campus speed limit the whole way. At that, he was gone, and she was completely on her own.
Unfortunately for Aradia, none of her research could help her navigate the school’s confusing room numbers and maze-like hallways. Without any experience in the new territory, her summoning ability wasn’t of any use either. Her ignorance was completely understandable as a newcomer, but it also reinforced her notion of being an outsider. She felt hopelessly lost.
Luckily, her father never got anywhere less than twenty minutes early, and she had a fair amount of time to wander and get her bearings. Other students milled about in the halls, mostly catching up on how they had passed their summer breaks. She didn’t even cast them a glance. She’d meet her fellow students later; right now, her number one priority was making it to her first class of her first day at her new school on time.
"Who is that?" Saul whispered to Keon, his commander.
The pair stood near their lockers, both wearing black and having no idea what clichés they were. Keon leaned casually against his locker. Saul stood dutifully on his right.
Keon shrugged flippantly, but nevertheless narrowed his eyes and focused on her. "I don't know. I have never seen her before."
"She’s definitely new," Saul continued. “Look how she interacts with her surroundings. She’s not comfortable here.”
“Neither am I,” Keon replied. “But I agree with your assessment. She is new. She smells like she is of the hidden race though.”
Saul sniffed. “Agreed. I can tell that even from here. I can’t place her scent, though.”
“No,” Keon agreed. “Definitely not vampire or werewolf.”
“Fae?” Saul proposed.
Keon sniffed twice, quickly, before definitively replying, “No.”
By chance, her path led Aradia right past the two agents. After she was out of earshot, Saul suggested, "Could she be a shape shifter? Might that throw off her scent?"
Keon shook his head, rejecting that hypothesis. "She is something more exotic, I am sure of it. Shapeshifters can only change their form. Their scent remains. They smell acrid and bitter, regardless and always. And she definitely does not smell like a shape shifter."
"Smells pretty damn good though," said Saul with a crude smile.
Keon glanced at Saul disdainfully.
Aradia was wandering back. They were on a twenty-five minute break between the second and third periods. Keon studied her as she glanced around the hallway. He presumed she was learning her environment, but she looked like a lost kid who had wandered away from her parents at the mall.
Finally, Keon muttered, "I should report this to the Sovereign."
Saul looked at him quickly. "Sir? She’s definitely something strange, but do we have enough cause to notify the Sovereign? You know how he can be."
"More than you know," Keon replied, "but that is irrelevant. We are duty bound. He commanded we report all strange activity."
"So far she only smells strange," Saul argued, but Keon was no longer listening. “She might just be something unusual from overseas.”
“I’ll make the journey tonight, personally, after sundown.”
Taking pity on his crestfallen comrade, he added, "While I am gone, you will keep an eye on her."
In spite of the fact that it was his command, Keon was concerned to see Saul's eyes light up at the order.
"Passive observation only," Keon added. “You are not to interact with her in any way without my explicit instructions. Understood?"
Saul nodded eagerly and distractedly, all the while keeping his gaze fastened upon Aradia, slowly licking his tongue over his fangs.
Aradia managed to get herself all the way to her third class without a hitch. Her first period, English Literature, had been a bore, and she was not at all looking forward to starting her day with that class. She found the subject dull, and the teacher had the strangest habit of looking directly to the left of the person she was addressing. It was both creepy and annoying.
H
er second period, Biology, was much more promising. She looked forward to the section on botany. She imagined she was the only person in the class who could say that.
She enjoyed Break, the twenty-five minutes between second and third period. Most of her classmates used it to socialize and eat a snack, but she took the opportunity to wander the halls. The corridors were indeed extensive, but she was nearly familiar enough that her latent summon, as she thought of the non-glowing version of the power, would become useful. Once she got there, navigation would not be a primary concern.
One aspect of her new school did concern her somewhat: the students. At first, Aradia was too distracted to notice the students’ reactions to her. Indeed, most did not seem to notice her at all. After a while, she noticed some kids seemed fixated on her, not with repulsion or revulsion, but with fascination.
She had to admit seeing so many cute boys looking at her intensely was flattering. What was discomforting though was the fact that the girls seemed to be staring at her the very same way. As if they were seeing something that none of them had ever seen before.
Only a certain amount of the students seemed to be staring at her. Some of the kids, who appeared to be ordinary, slammed their lockers and chatted with their friends without taking a moment's glance at Aradia. However, right next to them there would be people who seemed a bit too beautiful to be real, and they would be gazing at Aradia vividly.
Is it just me or is this school seriously weird? Aradia asked herself. She then heard the warning bell ring, and quickly scuttled down the hallway to get to her class. All the while trying to avoid and forget the stares of the students.
Without realizing, she rubbed the spot on her left forearm where, after her and Kasey’s fall, her tibia had actually pierced her skin.
Eh, she thought, it’s probably just curiosity about the new girl. She put it out of her mind as well as she could and focused on the moment.
Third period was Algebra, and she imagined she’d enjoy that even less than English. At least in English class she might get to read Macbeth or The Crucible or Nancy Drew. She doubted they would find their way into her math course, though.
