by Mandi Oyster
I tore my focus away from the door and put an “X” in the upper left-hand corner. Three moves later, I said, “You let me win.”
Cody shrugged. “It’s working.”
One move from winning the third game, the hair on my neck rose. Cassandra stood over me. Rage oozed from her. Through gritted teeth, she said, “You should have been drowned the day you were born.”
My jaw tightened until it ached, and I curled my hands into fists. I pushed my chair back, but Cody wrapped his hand around my fist, rubbing his thumb over mine. At his touch, my tension began to diminish, loosening my muscles. Part of me wanted him to hold my hand forever, but the other part knew I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t take away his chance at a normal relationship, a normal life.
Cassandra looked from Cody’s hand to his face and shook her head. “You could do so much better.” She flipped her hair. “If you want to try, call me.”
He squeezed my hand. “Nah, she’s the best.”
“What. Ever.” She turned and stomped up the stairs.
Cody bent down and whispered. “You have to ignore her.”
His breath brought goosebumps to my skin. I rubbed my arms. “Now, that’s a power I’d love to have.”
I sat in the crowded cafeteria. Utensils clanked against trays, students laughed and talked. I looked down at my grilled cheese, wondering if I should even try to eat it. I couldn’t understand how Cassandra could hate me so much without even knowing me.
Samantha hadn’t even sat down yet when she said, “I heard speech was exciting. Was that your class, Dacia?”
“Yeah.” I lifted the top piece of bread off my sandwich and watched steam rise into the air. “I was giving my speech when Cassandra’s book caught on fire.”
“Wow.” Her mouth hung open for a second. “What happened? Did you see?”
After years of covering for my powers, I’d gotten good at telling half-truths. It didn’t feel right using them on Samantha, but what else could I do? If she knew what I was capable of she’d be terrified of me. Without looking at her, I answered, “I didn’t see anybody do anything. I was even looking at her when it happened.”
“So if you didn’t see anyone else do it, did she start the fire herself?” Samantha asked just as Cody took a bite of his sandwich. “What’s she saying?”
Cody swallowed his ham and cheese without chewing. “For some reason, she’s blaming Dacia.”
Samantha snorted. “She really is psycho, huh?”
Chapter 6
Standing At A Crossroads
The light for our voicemail flashed. Samantha picked the phone up and listened to the message. She fidgeted with her earring and walked in circles. A minute later, she hung up. “Dean Aspen wants to see you in her office. She’s talking to everyone from your class this morning.”
“Nice,” I said without any inflection in my voice.
Samantha threw her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll walk with you. It’s on my way to Primrose.”
“No, it’s not.”
She shrugged. “We have to walk outside to get to both of them.”
I grabbed my stuff and followed her into the hall.
“Do you think you’ll need that?” Samantha gestured to my backpack.
We stepped outside and, blinking back the light, I put my sunglasses on. “I’m hoping it’ll go quickly, and I’ll make it to my painting class.” That’s what I told Samantha, but I thought, Is she really talking to everyone or just me? Does she know what I’m capable of? Will she expel me? Oh … I stopped walking and lowered my head. What am I going to tell Mom and Dad?
Shadows darkened the sidewalks. Grey clouds drifted overhead, clustering together and filling the sky until they blocked out the sun. I took my sunglasses off and put them on top of my head.
Samantha looked at the sky. “It wasn’t supposed to rain today, was it?” She narrowed her eyes, tilted her head and turned to me. “Hey, are you okay? You’re really pale.”
“Just nervous.” I tried to shoot her a reassuring smile, but it felt more like a grimace. I strolled forward, and she fell into step with me.
“You didn’t do it. You didn’t see who did.” Samantha lifted her hands up and shrugged. “End of story. Right?”
If only. I let out a jittery sigh. “Yeah … but still. The Dean’s office.”
Samantha’s voice lowered. “I know.”
Walking across campus, I didn’t take notice of anything: the mountain air, the birds singing, the herd of elk grazing in the pastures below the mountains, nothing. I was too concerned with what Dean Aspen might say, and how I would explain everything to her.
All too soon, we stood in front of Cacomistle Hall, a three-story, stone and timber building with Dean Aspen’s office inside. My hand trembled as I reached for the door.
“You’ll be fine.” Samantha waved as she walked off. “See you after class,” she called over her shoulder.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Across from the seating area, a woman sat behind a desk. I walked up to her on shaking legs.
“Can I help you?” The plate on her desk said her name was Alicia Argali.
“Uh … yeah. I’m here …” I took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem,” she said politely.
Avoiding her eyes, for fear she would see my guilt, I focused on her spiky, bleached-blonde hair. “I’m Dacia Wolf. Dean Aspen is expecting me.”
“Have a seat.” She pointed a manicured finger at the leather couch and chairs that I had passed to get to her desk, then picked up the phone. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I was too nervous to sit, but I sat. I felt like a kangaroo on a caffeine high; my leg drummed to a staccato beat against the stone tiles as I took in my surroundings. Timber columns formed a cathedral ceiling and large windows provided a spectacular view of the Snowfire Mountains. A stone fireplace filled the wall opposite the door.
“Miss Wolf, Dean Aspen will see you now.”
I glanced around. No one was in the room but her and me. “Where?”
“Up the stairs, second door on the right.”
“Thanks.”
I climbed an open, rustic-looking staircase and stood in front of the door. I raised my fist to knock, then dropped it and wiped my palms on my jeans. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hand. And the door opened.
“I thought you might be lost,” said an older woman with gray streaks in her brown hair. She wore a tan pants suit with a sage silk suit.
I struggled to breathe. I’m not ready for this. I can’t deal with a confrontation right now. “No,” I said, dropping my hand, “not lost, just really nervous.”
The pictures I’d seen of Dean Aspen made her seem delicate. But, here, now, face to face, I didn’t know why I’d thought that. Even though she was only a couple inches taller than me, I felt dwarfed by her. Maybe it was just nerves that made me feel so small, or maybe it was because she had the power to send me home.
She moved to the side and waved me in. “No need to be nervous. Come in and have a seat.”
The room was massive. Two couches faced each other with a coffee table between them. A stone fireplace stood off to the side. A warm, inviting fire danced inside a hearth surrounded by floor-to-ceiling picture windows revealing the mountains. Bookcases lined the walls. Two doors interrupted the smooth wall across from me. One stood open and, judging from its contents, the room was an office. The other door remained closed.
I swallowed hard and sat. Dean Aspen perched on the couch opposite me. “Tell me about your class this morning.” She leaned forward with her elbow on her knee. Her chin rested on her thumb, and her index finger stretched along her cheek.
I ran my fingers through my hair. Noticing how bad t
hey shook, I folded my hands in my lap. “There’s not much to tell.” I looked into her hazel eyes, willing her to believe me. “I was giving my speech and didn’t see how it happened.” I hated lying, hated that I had to do it to keep people from finding out the truth about me.
She tapped her finger against her cheek. Then sitting back, she said, “I interviewed Cassandra Nightshade first. She told me a slightly different version of this morning’s episode.”
My stomach did a cartwheel and, when it landed, it was tied in a thousand knots, each tightening with every breath I took. “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “After class, she grabbed my arm and told me she knew I did it.”
“And …”
“And.” I unclasped my shaking hands and sat on them. “That’s crazy. Isn’t it? I can’t imagine anyone else in there would blame me.”
She lifted her shoulders. “For whatever reason, she does. Is there some animosity between the two of you?”
I shook my head. “I bumped into her … literally, the night I moved in here. I told her I was sorry, but …”
Understanding spread across the dean’s face. “Some people have a tendency to blow things out of proportion.”
I nodded my agreement. “Now every time I see her, she acts like I intentionally wronged her.”
Her lips pressed together, and her forehead creased. “I know how teenage girls can be. Neither thinks they’re the cause of the problem.”
How could she think that? I didn’t start this. I don’t even understand where Cassandra’s hatred came from. I clenched and unclenched my hands. “How could I have done it? I was standing in front of everyone.”
Dean Aspen held her hand up. “I’m not suggesting you set her book on fire. She said that.”
“I bumped her.” Heat filled my stomach and spread through my veins. “I told her I was sorry. What more does she want?”
Dean Aspen’s eyebrow lifted. “Maybe I need to have the two of you here together to work things out.”
That’s all I need, to sit in a room with Cassandra. I’d be a ticking time bomb. “If that’s how you feel.”
She looked at me like she expected me to say more.
I fidgeted and looked around the room. Finally, I looked her in the eyes. “What?”
She picked up her coffee mug and held it without taking a drink. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”
Of course, there is. Does she expect everyone to walk in here and spill their guts? “Like what?”
She leaned forward. “You stood in front of the whole class and saw nothing. Nothing at all?”
A bitter laugh escaped from me.
“What?”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought that about teachers?” I shook my head. “Somehow most of them missed the kids pulling my hair and all the things they said and all the cheating.”
Setting her cup back on the table, she said, “I’d like to think better of our teachers here.”
I tugged my hand through my hair. “I’d like to think better of everyone, but how can you expect me to have seen everything while giving a speech while painting?”
Dean Aspen thrummed her fingers on the arm of the couch. “Cassandra said you were looking right at her when it happened.”
Frustration rose up inside of me. Why is Cassandra’s word gospel? “What did the other students say?”
“I’ve only talked to the two of you so far.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about Mrs. Mantis? What did she say?”
The dean looked over my shoulder, avoiding my eyes. “She was taking notes and didn’t see anything.”
Another laugh. “And yet you think I should have.” I clenched my teeth and sucked in a breath. This interrogation should’ve been over a long time ago. What was she trying to prove anyway? It was my word against Cassandra’s, and the dean had no reason to believe I could’ve started the fire.
“I don’t think you should have.” She stared into my eyes. “I think you saw something or know what happened.”
Fear and hopelessness clawed at my chest, fighting to escape. How can I get out of this? My leg bounced up and down. The room shook.
A low rumbling filled the room. Books shuddered and pictures pulled away from their hooks. I covered my ears, and Dean Aspen beamed like a lunatic.
She jumped up, clapped her hands together and let out a hearty laugh. “Crazy indeed.”
The rumbling came to an abrupt stop when my tangled emotions turned into confusion. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire and the thundering of my heart. Slouched down, I stared at the ceiling. Tears burned behind my eyes. I rubbed my hands over my face. “I’ll pack my things.” I swallowed to stop the wobble in my voice. “I can be out of here in a couple hours.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
My eyebrows drew together. “I don’t, but what choice do I have?”
“You can stay here.” She sat next to me. “I can help you learn how to harness your power, to control it.”
I wanted to say something, anything, but it was like I had just put a large spoonful of peanut butter in my mouth. I couldn’t even begin to open it.
Dean Aspen put her hand on my shoulder. “This is not something you have to decide right now. Talk to your parents, your friends. Find out what they think. Then let me know what you want to do.”
“Cody’s the only one who understands.” My voice was so soft, I wasn’t sure if she heard me.
Her eyes widened a fraction. “Not your parents.”
I shook my head.
“Talk to him. When you decide, give me a call.”
Nothing about this felt right. Dean Aspen shouldn’t have been comforting me and offering to help. She should have been afraid of me or at least amazed. I held my hand up. “Wait. What’s going on? Why are you so happy about this?”
“I—”
Holding her in place with an icy stare, I stood up.
Her eyes widened.
“No, Cody’s my best friend. He has been forever, but he was scared to death the first time he saw me do something like this.” I pulled my hand through my curls. “Have you met someone like me before?”
“No.”
“Then what?” I stood up and paced in front of the couch.
“I’ve heard about others like you.”
I grabbed my stuff and ran out of her office, not stopping until I was outside, the fresh, clean scent of rain assaulted my nostrils, and the downpour washed away some of my anger.
There’s no one else like me.
Cody slouched against his Camaro, waiting for me. I climbed into the passenger seat without as much as a hello. He got in and started the car. The radio blared. He reached over and turned it down, still on but too quiet to be distracting. “Where to?”
“Away.”
He drove without saying anything. I watched the dense pine forest zip by.
Cody tapped on the wheel. “Well?”
I gazed out the window, not wanting to see his reaction. “Dean Aspen knows.” Nothing but silence answered my confession. “She saw.”
The car slowed down, and Cody pulled onto an overlook. A break in the trees left a view of meadows and a river flowing through the valley below. The vast scene made it seem like I could see the end of the world.
I turned to Cody. “Why are you stopping?”
He tilted his head to the side and let out a sigh. “This doesn’t sound like a conversation we should have while I’m driving.”
I chewed on my lip. “I needed privacy.”
“Yeah. I get that.” He turned the radio off. “You make it rain?”
I nodded.
“Stopped my basketball game but di
dn’t last very long.”
“Nah.”
He ran his hands over the steering wheel. “So … not all bad.”
The corners of my mouth lifted slightly. Nobody knew me like Cody. “Not all bad but …” I let out a troubled sigh. “It can’t be good, can it?”
Cody squeezed my hand. “Start at the beginning.”
With my head back against the seat, I took a deep breath and told him everything. He listened without interrupting.
“So where’s the dilemma? Let her help you.”
My eyes narrowed. “The dilemma. Really, you don’t see it?” I tugged my fingers through my hair. “She knows what I can do.”
“So do I.” His voice was calm and even.
“So do Mom and Dad.” I glared at Cody, daring him to say something.
He waved his hand in the air for me to continue.
“They can’t stand to be around me. They’re scared and in denial.” I slumped forward, my head in my hands. “And I can’t even blame them.”
“Dacia.” Cody’s voice was a gentle caress. “The storm of the century won’t help.”
Ominous clouds rolled in, clashing against each other, creating lightning that spider-webbed through the sky. I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me and paced until the sky looked less foreboding.
Cody leaned against his car, his arms folded over his chest. “Don’t overreact.”
I shot him a dangerous look.
“Samantha needs to know.”
“Why?”
“Really?” He walked over, hands in his pockets. “How do you want her to find out? With you in control or not?”
I kicked a rock, sending it soaring over the road and down the hill. “But, how am I supposed to tell her? She won’t understand. No one does.”
“I do,” he said softly. “So does Dean Aspen.”
I ran my hand through my hair. “She wasn’t even scared.”
“That’s good isn’t it?”
I took a long, slow breath. “No, it doesn’t make sense.”