Pinehurst

by Nicole Grane

  Chapter 7

  I listened to Iris rant all the way to Biology . . . and all the way through Biology. In fact, if we hadn’t had to part ways for fourth period English, I’m sure she would have complained all the way through that class as well.

  As it was, she had no trouble picking up where she’d left off when we met for lunch. With Gillian and Aubree there to hear it for the first time, her anger renewed itself and was in full force.

  “I mean, you should have seen Evie. She just waves her hand over the candle and it lights up like the fourth of July! I tried for almost an hour, not even a hint of smoke,” she huffed.

  “I’ve just been practicing more than you. You’ll get it.” I tried to sound blasé about the whole thing. The truth of the matter was, I’d managed the Floga charm the first time I’d attempted it. There was no way I’d admit that to anyone here. No need to rub salt into Iris’ wounds.

  Just then, James walked by. Gillian and Aubree couldn’t help but snicker. He still had cupcake in his hair.

  “Poor James . . .” I mimicked Iris’s tone from earlier. I had a new sympathy for those less equipped than me.

  Aubree leaned in closer, her voice low, like a whisper. “I heard you broke Stacy Wilcox’s chair in math. She said you made it fall right out from under her.”

  “Tell me everything!” Gillian’s ears didn’t miss a thing. She looked like I’d just given her an all-expense-paid trip to the mall.

  “It wasn’t as glamorous as all that.” I waved them off.

  “But you did do it?” Iris was just as intrigued as the rest. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  My eyes darted around the room. No one was in earshot. Not that it mattered. I really didn’t like to brag. Besides, I wasn’t sure I was ready to share everything with the trio that had taken me under their wing. The look of hope on their faces however, broke me. They needed this: “The timing couldn’t have been better.” I leaned in closer. “Right in the middle of her verbal attack, her desk just . . . fell to the floor,” I said in mock-disbelief. “Call it a loose screw . . . call it Divine intervention . . .”

  “Call it a miracle,” Iris added.

  The three busted out laughing. I couldn’t help but join in. I wasn’t able to appreciate it at the time, but the mental picture of Stacy on the floor, screaming at me, was priceless. “I only wished I could have recorded it,” I said through the tears. “It would have made a great shot for the yearbook.” The four of us howled with laughter.

  The lunch bell rang and The Kitchen emptied as quickly as it filled and everyone shuffled off to their next class.

  I had fifth period Spells with Gillian, who used the time en route to question me further on the Stacy Incident, as it would later come to be known.

  “So how did you do it?” She was still giggling.

  “Do what?”

  Gillian huffed beside me. “You know . . . break her chair.”

  I gave her a long look. Out in the halls, this was a dangerous conversation. Someone might overhear.

  “Come on Evie . . . we won’t tell anyone. Honest.”

  I studied her closely.

  “Evie . . .” She had her hands clasped in front of her, pleading.

  “I just . . . made it.” I admitted quietly, still hurrying along.

  “What do you mean, you just ‘made it.’” She put her hands in the air, making little quotations with her fingers.

  I pulled her aside, out of the flow of traffic. I looked up and down the hall, surveying our privacy.

  “Look. I just looked at her chair and made it collapse. It’s the same as with the sprinklers. I just wanted it to happen, and it did.” I continued to look around nervously.

  “Without a spell?” She gasped. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “I don’t always need spells.” There was something scary about admitting that out loud. Even I had to acknowledge how strange it was; the look on Gillian’s face told me she agreed.

  “Remind me to stay on your good side,” she half-laughed.

  Relieved, I smiled back. Gillian hadn’t freaked out like I’d feared.

  We hurried into class, just as the final bell rung.

  “Good, we’re all here!” Ms. Spicer grinned with excitement. Ms. Spicer was a jolly-looking woman, one of those rare people who projected beauty. She had a round face that matched her round body. She was by far the most interesting teacher in this place.

  “Today, were going to be learning how to perform a proper Pagoma spell.”

  There was a collective “Ohhh” of excitement from the class.

  “The first to do it will win this!” She held up a bag of red popcorn.

  “Her favorite snack,” Gillian whispered my way.

  “For those of you that don’t know, Pagoma is a paralyzing spell,” she continued. “When done correctly, you can render anyone or anything, immobile. This is . . .” her tone sharpened, “ . . . a defensive spell only.”

  “Yeah, and it’s also required for graduation,” Gillian grumbled under her breath.

  I sunk into my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. I’d perfected the Pagoma spell years ago thanks to Miles. He’d secretly been instructing me—my dad had been totally clueless about it. This was a little bit of information I wished to keep to myself, especially now. After the Floga charm, there was no way I wanted Gillian reporting to Iris that the Pagoma spell was just as easy for me. That’s all I needed, was to be labeled as the class know-it-all!

  “Now, I know this is your first introduction with the Pagoma spell, so don’t expect to learn it right away . . .” Ms. Spicer’s words drowned out . . .

  I remembered it as if it were yesterday. I thought to myself. I was eight. George had hired a stuffy governess to look after me while he was away on business. I’d thought it would be funny to try and freeze her while she was crossing the street. I’d seen my dad do it with things on occasion—it hadn’t looked so hard. But I only managed to slow her down, she moved like a snail across the road. It was hilarious! I didn’t see what the big deal was—I un-freezed her in plenty of time for her to jump out of the way of the delivery van. I’d been grounded from the toy store a whole week for that little stunt—a bit harsh in my opinion.

  “ . . . You’ll have a year to perfect it,” Ms. Spicer went on, drawing me out of my reverie.

  Wait! A year! I have to play stupid for a whole year? I whined mentally as I let my headrest on the table.

  “Miss Hollyander! Would you join me up front please for a demonstration?”

  I gave Gillian an uneasy glance. Why did I have to be the guinea pig? Was it pick on the new girl week? I must have missed the memo.

  “Don’t worry Miss Hollyander. I promise, it won’t hurt a bit,” she chuckled.

  I made my way to the front of the room. It was only my second day so I hadn’t paid much attention to the other students in class. I could see Victor and Roland sitting in the far corner with their heads together—expressions serious. Both were definitely looking at me—jerks! Yeah I was standing at the front of the class but they could still, you know, pretend not to be staring so intently.

  I folded my arms in a pout. They’re probably talking crap about me right now. I bet Victor’s telling Roland all about the Chad incident, making it out to be my fault!

  I tried to ignore them, but whatever Victor was saying, Roland didn’t look happy about it. His eyes flickered to me again. He actually looked pissed. Why at me? What the hell did I do? I looked away from them, not giving them the satisfaction of making me uncomfortable. Stupid boys! Stupid, stupid boys! Where do they get off—?

  “Now, Miss Hollyander, have you heard of the Pagoma spell before?”

  There was a snicker from the other corner. Great! My day just went from bad to worse. Stacy was here too. Although, where else would I expect a witch to be but in Spells. How did I miss her yesterday? Oh yeah, she wasn’t in class because she’d been the victim of a faulty sprinkler system. I bit my lip, hold
ing back a snicker.

  “Yes, I’ve heard of it,” I finally answered.

  “Wonderful!” Ms. Spicer was beaming.

  “Now, let’s keep this simple. Mr. Vandenberg!” her tone became sharp. “Since you seem intent on talking during my lecture, I can only assume that you’ve already mastered this spell. Will you please join us at the front of the class?”

  Roland’s cheeks turned pink. He strode up to the front of the room and stood next to me, his eyes meeting mine briefly. A mixture of emotion hung in them. Worry. Fear. Attraction. Whatever. I didn’t have time for Roland’s head games.

  “Now then. Mr. Vandenberg, would you please perform the Pagoma spell on Miss Hollyander here.”

  “What?” I looked from Miss Spicer to Roland. A sudden wave of panic ran through me. I didn’t like the idea of students performing spells on me. Hell, I didn’t like the idea of anyone performing spells on me, even if it was under the supervision of an adult. It made me uneasy. I could end up with a pig's nose, or a goat’s tale! Iris told me once that a boy put a goat’s beard on a girl by mistake. It took a whole day to figure out how to reverse it.

  “What shall I do?” Roland asked.

  I gave him a sideways glance. That didn’t sound good. He’d better know what he was doing. If I ended up with a goat’s beard, Roland wasn’t going to look any better once I got through with him—and I wouldn't be using magic to do it!

  “Miss Hollyander, would you be so kind as to walk across the room toward the door. Mr. Vandenberg, I want you to stop Evie before she reaches it. The Pagoma spell,” Ms. Spicer was addressing the entire class now, “when done correctly, should prevent your enemy from advancing; or retreating as the case may be.”

  The instructions were simple, and honestly, I’d have thought anyone could have done it. I had felt a small hesitation in my movements when a shadow passing across the wall caught my eye. I spun around, putting my hand up to block whatever was propelling toward my head.

  I held my breath, keenly aware of the whole class witnessing the book that now hovered in the air. Crap. I released it, letting the book fall to the floor with a loud thump. I glanced around, the entire class looked awestruck.

  Even Stacy sat there with a dumbfounded look on her stupid face. I wanted to grab the book and hurtle it back at her—my cover had been blown.

  “Miss Hollander,” Ms. Spicer gasped. “You didn’t say that you already knew how to perform this spell!”

  I glanced around once more. Yep, all eyes were still on me. Including Roland’s. He smiled.

  “You only asked if I’d heard of it,” I said. True, but really, I knew what she’d meant. My intention was to muddle along, having just as much trouble as the next guy. This was considered “strong magic.” Something that kids my age certainly couldn’t do yet. Especially at the skill level I’d just demonstrated. I was smart enough to know that. If you couldn’t do a Floga charm, you certainly couldn’t do a Pagoma spell.

  “Have you been instructed on this?” Her tone was implying. I could hear the disapproval in her voice.

  “Instructed . . .?”

  Ms. Spicer frowned at me before turning her attention elsewhere. She walked across the room, picked up the book and opened the cover. There was a more pressing matter to deal with. “Miss Wilcox! Would you please explain why your book nearly hit Miss Hollyander?”

  “Reverse Pagoma?” She suggested casually.

  Light laughter broke out.

  “Detention Miss Wilcox.” She handed the book back to her sharply before returning to the front of the class.

  I stuck my tongue out at Stacy—childish I know but I felt a thousand times better.

  “Alright class.” Ms. Spicer hushed the loud chatter that had broken out. “You may begin reviewing chapters twelve and thirteen: your homework!” she announced firmly as she took her seat at her desk. “Quietly!”

  We flipped open our books and studied “quietly” for the next thirty minutes.

  I had my bag packed and was ready to dash out the door when the bell rang.

  “Perhaps tomorrow, Miss Hollyander . . .” Ms. Spicer caught me at the door, “ . . . you may lead us in a demonstration on the Pagoma Spell?” She gave me a knowing look.

  “Yes, Ms. Spicer.”

  “Holly crap Evie, you’re like some kind of freaking super hero.” Gillian was over the top as we retreated across the lawn. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

  “Yeah.” We paused outside the gym. “Sixth period P.E.”

  She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

  “If I’m still alive.” I turned and sulked away.

  I got dressed for class with a few minutes to spare. I hustled out into the main room. The guys were already sparing. I felt like I was watching some sort of Kung Fu movie. There was no way I could do any of this.

  “Hollyander! You made it.”

  It was like déjà vu. All eyes were once again on me.

  I cringed. I was never going to get used to Gunny’s voice. I turned around to face him, surprised by the wide smile on his face.

  “Fall in,” he said.

  The guys had already taken their places. I took my spot next to Arnold again.

  “Now gentlemen, and lady,” Gunny gave a polite nod my way. “We are three-quarters through this school year. Surprisingly, you girls have managed to do an adequate job. But your performance will have to improve drastically if you hope to pass finals in three months time.”

  A low groan reverberated around the room.

  “If you do not pass finals,” Gunny’s voice thundered on, “you will be expelled from the program!”

  I felt a smile creep across my face. A light at the end of this horrid tunnel shined brightly. I could hear the hallelujah chorus right now.

  “Wipe that smirk off your face Hollyander! Failure is not an option.”

  I huffed. “But you just said if we don’t pass—” I stopped, swallowing the rest of my sentence. The look on his face confirmed that failure was most definitely, not an option. Crap! Somehow, I would be passing this class. A large lump stuck in my throat.

  “You will be paired up with partners.” Gunny was in fine form today. His booming voice echoed throughout the gymnasium. Too bad I didn’t know a spell for laryngitis!

  “You will train daily.” He paced back and forth in front of us. Intimidation at its best. “For those of you that are lacking like Thompson here . . . for God’s sake Thompson, stand up straight boy this isn’t a rest home.”

  I bit the inside of my mouth, trying not to laugh. Poor Thompson. He must be one of the boys Gunny had talked about: one whose parents were pushing him to become a slayer. He looked as excited to be here as I did.

  “As I was saying,” Gunny cleared his voice. “For those of you that are lacking, extra training sessions will be implemented.”

  I stifled a groan. “Extra training sessions” had my name written all over it.

  “I suggest,” Gunny continued, “that unless you don’t want your partner kicking your butt for making him do double time, you pansies better pull your own weight.”

  I grimaced. This was yet another reason these guys were going to hate me. There was no way I was going to pass this class without extra training sessions. Crap—my new word of choice. This was seriously going to hinder my social life. I could kiss all school dances and the prospect of a boyfriend goodbye. I’d be labeled as “homework” before class was over. No guy was going to hang out with the girl who caused extra training sessions. Why did every guy in the school have to aspire to be a slayer?

  “Now. Listen for your names and pair up. Howard—Chambers. Andersen—Thompson. Bixby—Arnold, Vandenberg—Hollyander.”

  The names went on and on. It didn’t matter. Aside from a few, I had no idea who these guys were.

  I could hear a loud sigh behind me—Roland. I knew he didn’t want to partner up with me. I actually didn’t blame him. A girl and extra training to boot . . . this
sucked! I wasn’t going to win any popularity contests around here. I was just about to let him off the hook when—

  “Now, spread out and begin with basic hand to hand!” Gunny shouted.

  “Excuse me, Gunnery Sergeant Jaxson, if I might make a suggestion?”

  I turned my head to the bleachers behind me. I hadn’t even noticed him there. Sitting halfway up, looking amazingly hot in a tight black t- shirt and shorts. Antonio laid his book aside. He was the most gorgeous-looking bookworm I’d ever seen. I wondered if he was reading a romance? His eyes flickered to mine. A faint tinge of pink colored his cheeks.

  “What is it Vasques?” Gunny boomed in an unusually polite tone. I’d have to mark this day down on the calendar.

  “It seems hardly fair to pair Mr. Vandenberg up with Miss Hollyander. She’s new and will require much training if she’s to pass finals.” I listened to the words roll off his tongue. His thick accent even made his unintentional insult sound attractive. I think it was unintentional . . .? Who cared! My knees grew weak as he approached.

  “I’ll be her partner,” Chad volunteered loudly as he stepped forward. The come-hither look on his face made me want to gag. “I don’t mind the extra training.”

  A soft roar broke out.

  “No!” Roland snapped. “You will not.” He moved toward me, his eyes flickering from Chad to me. The look on his face suggested that maybe he had heard about the Chad incident. He didn’t look happy.

  It was sweet and all that Roland wanted to stick up for me, but I didn’t need his help. I could handle Chad. And anything else he tried to dish out.

  Chad shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful. You know, taking one for the team. Someone needs to roll around with her.” He took a defensive position and sneered at Roland. So much for BFFs!

  Antonio’s hands were on my shoulders, subtly moving me out of a potential war zone. He stood in front of me. His arms crossed. There was no doubt, if Chad so much as flinched my way, he was getting his ass kicked.

  My heart fluttered at that. You had to love protective guys. I blushed. He could be my shield, any day.

  “Easy boys,” Gunny asserted himself between them.“No one will be rolling around with Hollyander . . . not unless they want me kicking their butt.” His eyes were on Chad, but the visual brought a collective groan throughout the room. Even I flinched.

  “With your permission, Sir, I’d like to volunteer.” Antonio’s voice rang above the tension. His eyes still fixed on Chad.

  Gunny laughed. Hard. “You’d kill her boy. She’s not ready to spar with you.”

  “Of course, I’d never take the advantage, Sir.” Antonio sounded insulted. “I’ll take her on as my own student, I’m more than qualified.”

  The soft roar faded into quiet whispers. They were all wondering the same thing I was. Why in the world would he want to train with me? Not that I was complaining. Visions of Antonio all hot and sweaty, pulling me close to him, ran wickedly through my mind. I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I’d just had that thought!

  “What do you say, Hollyander, you up to training with a real Slayer?”

  “A Slayer?” I looked from Gunny to Antonio with wide eyes. My hot steamy daydream had evaporated. “He’s a Slayer?” He couldn’t be more than a few years older than I was.

  “Alright Vasques, she’s yours. Do whatever you need to get her ready in time for trials.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Antonio nodded, and then gave me a quick wink.

  “Oh, and Vasques. Please don’t break her. I’d hate for her daddy to have to kill you.” Gunny chuckled as he strode off across the room. “Vandenberg! You’re with Martin.”

  And with that, we broke into our groups.

  I stood where I was; a statue. Had I just been paired with the hottest guy on campus? An older boy—a Slayer! I squealed mentally.