by Martha Carr
Kicking bad guys’ asses and protecting kids like me. The ones everyone forgets until they go too far. How many people feel like that about shifters?
The answer didn’t matter. She was here, no matter what Ralthorn or any other teacher thought about having someone like her for a student at the Academy. With the crystal, she’d be able to ace every single class, and no one would be able to turn her away. Or hurt her like she’d been hurt over the last four months.
She looked up and saw Summer studying her from two picnic tables down. The older girl smiled and waggled her eyebrows.
After returning the gesture, Amanda quickly turned back toward her friends and pretended to listen to Jackson’s confusing description of some party he’d gone to when he was eight. I have to figure out how to get Summer to let me keep the crystal. Or only let her use it when I don’t need it until I can handle doing magic all on my own.
That night, the entire student body gathered in the central field to watch the Homecoming Louper match between the Academy’s Florida Gators—their new mascot—and the Kentucky Wildcats. It was the team’s second match of the season, which stretched out through the year's duration and ended with the championship right before the end of spring semester.
Amanda had wanted to try out for the team, but every time she’d asked Mr. LeFor to reconsider, he’d turned her down. Now, as Principal Glasket finished her opening speech about Homecoming and the Florida Gators’ skilled team, she realized she didn’t want to be here to watch the game. What’s the point if I should’ve been on the team in the first place?
It was cool to watch the team get teleported out of the main field—virtual-reality headsets and all—to the match’s undisclosed location. Then the blown-up projection of the match field and all the players’ virtual avatars took up all the space in front of the stage and podium, and Academy students cheered and roared for their team as the game kicked off.
I need to get out of here.
She stood from her chair, and Grace looked up at her in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Gotta get some air.”
“We’re already outside.”
“And privacy.”
“Aw, come on, Coulier.” Jackson glanced at her, then returned eagerly to the projected screen to watch the game. “You’re gonna—yeah!” He threw a fist in the air. “Kick his virtual ass, McGuire! Don’t let him get away! Coulier, you’re gonna miss all the action. Seriously, I had no idea a game as awesome as this existed. Hell, a few headsets back in LA would’ve made all the difference in the world while we were—look out!”
A collective groan rose from the student body as one of their team members got shoved off a rock outcropping by another player and fell into the pond below him on the field. The second he splashed into the water, his avatar disappeared from the screen, and the player was sent out of the match’s virtual-reality world to wait until the game was over.
“I need a minute.” Amanda sidled down the row of chairs as kids around her screamed at the game, pumping their fists in the air and grimacing at the magical battles being fought in front of them. “Enjoy the game, though. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, and we’re gonna win!” Jackson screamed.
When she finally got away from all the noise, Amanda walked aimlessly across the campus until she reached the kitchen. She couldn’t see Fred or any of the other kitchen pixies through the windows, but the smell of steak and asparagus and mashed potatoes meant they were hard at work cooking everyone one heck of an after-game meal.
She passed the kitchen, ignored her growling stomach, and stuck her hand into the deep pocket of her cargo shorts to feel the purple crystal’s clean-cut edges.
“Not a big fan of watching a game you can’t play, huh?” Summer said behind her.
Amanda spun and stared at the girl. “I guess. I mean, it’s a cool game and everything. I’m not really in a screaming-at-the-team kinda mood.”
“What about a Homecoming mood?”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. I don’t get the point of that either.”
“Eh, it’s something fun to focus on, I guess. Or at least that’s what all the teachers think it’s supposed to be.”
“You don’t like it either?”
Summer stuck her hands in the pockets of her zip-up hoodie and gazed out at the swamp as they ambled away from the campus buildings toward the open space ahead of them. “More like I’m indifferent.”
“I figured you’d be pumped about watching the game. You were pretty excited about it when Glasket said we were starting a team.”
“Yeah, then I blew up an island, went down into a buried temple, and found a shiny rock that helps us both use magic we don’t actually know. So…kind of a tough act for a game to follow. Even Louper.”
Amanda cocked her head in concession. “Fair enough. If Mr. LeFor would let me try out for the team, I’d probably use this thing to help me play.”
“The crystal?”
She pulled the glowing purple stone out of her pocket and held it toward Summer. “Not like I need it right now anyway.”
“Nah. You can keep it over the weekend. Practice and everything, right?” Summer turned away from the stone. “As long as I get it back before Combat Training on Monday.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
They wandered across the grounds toward the campus’ northern edge, and the shouts and cheers from the student spectators faded away behind them.
“So what about the whole dance thing?” Amanda asked.
“If you’re asking me to Homecoming, shifter girl, I’m gonna have to say no.”
“Wait; what?” They both burst out laughing, and Amanda shook her head. “I meant are you going?”
“I know what you meant. I don’t know yet. This kinda thing at my last school wasn’t my thing. I guess things here are as different as they’re ever gonna get.” Summer picked at a tall fern and shrugged. “I’ll probably show up to see what kinda disaster it turns into. Kids like us don’t exactly mix well with school dances.”
“Yeah, probably not.” I’ve been to plenty of fancy parties that might as well have been dances.
The memories curdled into twisted knots in Amanda’s gut, and she didn’t think about it before she opened up and started talking. “You know, back in New York, my parents used to take us to a whole bunch of parties. Seemed like there was a different one practically every weekend. I hated it. Always having to stand there in a dress and smile until my face felt frozen like that and laugh at these stupid jokes about politics and accounting that never made any sense.”
“Yeesh.” Summer wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like hell.”
“Kinda.”
“So what’d you do? Finally stopping laughing, and your parents shipped you out here?”
“Not exactly.” Bending to grab a stick, Amanda straightened and swung it aimlessly at the ferns and the cattail reeds. I need to stop talking about them before I won’t be able to.
“Huh. Okay. Then at least tell me what happened to the other one.”
“What?”
“You said, ‘My parents used to take us.’ More than just you, shifter girl. Where’d the other one end up?”
Claire. Her name was Claire.
“Uh…” A strangled, hesitant groan escaped her. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Right.” Summer frowned at her. “I mean, you’re the one who brought it up, but whatever.”
“I was trying to say I hope this Homecoming thing isn’t anything like those parties. That’s all.”
With a snort, the other girl folded her arms and turned to face the rising shouts of triumph coming from the center field. “This is a magic school for juvenile delinquents, shifter girl. It won’t be anything like your fancy New York parties. Kinda weird to say, but I’m pretty sure that’s a good thing.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Florida Gators didn’t win their second match for the school’s first Homecoming Louper game. The K
entucky Wildcats took the victory, but it didn’t seem to put a damper on the excitement buzzing around the entire campus at the Academy. Because the next day, they still had the Homecoming party and dance. Amanda should’ve been more excited, but she couldn’t see the point.
What she wanted was to be alone for a while after lunch because Ms. Ralthorn had said something yesterday that had stayed with her.
“There’s something of a radical group of them who recently banded together…”
The teacher had been talking about shifters, and that unfinished sentence had kept Amanda awake a lot later than she’d wanted the night before until she realized there was something she could do about it.
Now, she sat on her bed with Johnny’s black service box and her cell phone—both of which were considered contraband—and figured the best place to start without raising any red flags at the Academy was the internet.
Not sure how many legit hits I’ll get for searching ‘radical shifter organizations,’ but it’s worth a shot.
Before she could type in the search, Grace knocked on her door. “Amanda?”
She shoved her phone and the black box under her pillow. “What?”
“Hey, come on. You can’t lock yourself up in your room. We should get ready for the dance.”
“Yeah…I don’t know if I’m even gonna go.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say. Come on. Open up.”
Amanda rolled her eyes, grabbed her devices, and chucked them back into her dresser drawer before closing it and heading to the door. The last thing she needed was for Grace to find them. Not that she thought the witch would run to the teachers about it, but Amanda preferred her secrets.
When she opened her door, Grace was already grinning with her arms spread wide. “There’s no way you’re missing out on your first school dance. Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“What’s the big deal anyway?” Amanda scratched her head as the witch barreled into her room and gazed around. “I don’t get it.”
“Have you seen what the teachers are doing with the decorations in the central field?”
“No…”
“Well, when you do, you’ll understand. Look, Amanda, this is a magical dance. I promise you’ve never seen anything like it. We need to make sure that no one’s seen anything like you before, either.”
“What?”
“Exactly what I said. You had no idea how to say no to Brandon Everly when he asked you to go with him, so I guess you also don’t have any idea how to get ready for a dance like this. Am I right?”
“I mean, it’s not exactly my first party—”
“Yeah, but this isn’t a birthday party. This is high school.” Grace went right to the sliding door of the long, thin closet and thrust it open. She scanned the three hangers inside, which held Amanda’s heavier sweaters, and her shoulders slumped. “You have the emptiest closet I’ve ever seen.”
“Most of my stuff doesn’t need to be hung up.”
“Please don’t tell me you keep your nice clothes in your dresser.” The witch turned round to scowl at Amanda. “That’s the worst thing you can do to a dance dress.”
“I don’t have any dance dresses.”
“Yeah. Right.” With a snort, Grace headed straight for the dresser and jerked open the top drawer. “Huh. You like shorts and tank tops a lot, don’t you?”
“We’re in Florida.”
“No skirts? Jumpers? Nothing?”
Before Grace could make it to opening the bottom drawer with Amanda’s illegal technology resting right on top, Amanda leapt toward the dresser and pulled her friend away. “Hold on.”
“What’s wrong? I’m here to help you pick out the best thing to wear.”
“Grace, I don’t care what I wear to this thing. I’ll go, okay?”
“Yeah, but you have to dress up. It’s Homecoming. Sure, it’s probably gonna be different than all the other schools, but we still have a chance to get all fancy. Take a break from all the hardcore learning and dragging our butts around that stupid obstacle course—”
“I don’t have anything fancy.” Amanda swallowed and looked at the floor. “So…”
“What?” Grace shot her a confused smile. “You mean you’ve never worn a dress?”
“No, I’ve worn dresses plenty of times.” I hate them. Amanda sighed. “Look, before I came here, I was living with Johnny—”
“Yeah, yeah. The big bad bounty hunter. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m saying I don’t have anything from before I went to stay with him, okay? Pretty much everything I own is in that dresser.”
“Oh.” Grace glanced around the room and tucked her short blonde bob behind one ear, finally realizing part of what Amanda was trying to get at—that everything connected to her old life in New York before Johnny Walker and before the Academy had stayed in her past. “Yeah, I didn’t have a whole lot to bring with me from LA, either. They didn’t take you out to get anything before you got on the train?”
Amanda barked out a laugh. “What train? People keep talking about it, but I have no idea what it is.”
“The magical train.” Grace stared at her. “The one that runs underground to every Starbucks. How do you not know this?”
“I mean, I was already staying in the Everglades.” Plus, my parents weren’t big on interacting with other magicals. “That’s how all of you got here?”
“Most of us, yeah. Except for Summer, obviously. Do you know where she’s from? I don’t mean her last school.”
“Nope.”
“Well, whatever. I don’t care about her. I care about getting you into a dress for the dance. Come on.” Grace snatched up Amanda’s hand and pulled her into the hall. “We’re gonna find something that fits you. Oh, hey. Annabelle’s your size.”
“Annabelle’s a dwarf.”
“Yeah, and I bet she has an extra dress she’d let you borrow. Seriously, Amanda, I’d be the worst friend in the world if I let you sit out on this one. Trust me. You’re gonna love it.”
As it turned out, Annabelle and Amanda wore the same sizes. The dwarf girl didn’t hand over her best dress—she wore that one herself—but she had a black and green striped mini-dress she and Grace both squealed over when they held it up against Amanda’s shoulders. “Oh my God, this is perfect.”
“It’ll look so much better on you than on me,” Annabelle added. “You need to wear this.”
“I’m not really into dresses, guys.”
The other girls looked at each other and giggled.
“It’s a dance. Wear the dress, Amanda.” Grace stuck her hands on her hips. “What are you gonna do with your hair?”
“Um…brush it?”
“Wrong answer.” Annabelle darted out of her dorm room and headed down the hall. “Margaret has some of the best ideas with hair. I don’t know how she managed to bring almost an entire salon with her, but we’re gonna use it. Be right back.”
“An entire salon.” Amanda wrinkled her nose.
“I’m pretty sure she stole it,” Grace muttered. “And the duffel bag with the Endless enchantment on it.”
“The what?”
“You know. The enchantment that makes things, like, bigger on the inside.” Grace shrugged. “She only has one bag, but you should see her room on the second floor. There’s way more stuff in there than what she could fit in that bag. That’s what I wanna learn how to do before we graduate. Cast those kinds of enchantments.”
Amanda smiled and nodded, but her mind instantly went to the purple crystal resting in her backpack down the hall. I bet I could make an enchantment with that thing. Then I’d have to explain to everyone how the girl who couldn’t change the color of construction paper suddenly knows high-level enchantments.
When Annabelle returned, she had Margaret with her. The other girl carried her Endless duffel bag in one hand and smirked when she looked Amanda up and down. “We’re gonna make you look so amazing. I can�
�t even stand it.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Don’t worry about it. You know what? Don’t even talk.” Margaret laid the duffel bag on the floor in Annabelle’s room and grinned. “Let us do all the work. You’re gonna love this, I promise.”
Amanda shot Grace a hesitant grimace, but the witch was way too excited about the youngest freshman’s makeover to pick up on it. So Amanda resigned herself to being fawned over by three other high school girls who insisted they knew more about what she wanted to look like than she did.
Just like Mom. Oh man, this is like getting ready for the governor’s gala all over again.
Yet, trying to tell these girls about how much she’d hated being done up like this for her parents’ parties—and how much her sister Claire had loved it—would only bring up more questions she didn’t want to answer. So she changed into Annabelle’s striped dress and sat on the dwarf girl’s bed so they could do whatever they had in mind for Amanda’s grand appearance at a stupid Homecoming dance. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to push down the memories one more time.
I’d give anything to see Mom and Claire getting their nails done and Dad shaving in front of the mirror. Can’t think about that now, Amanda. They’re gone, and you’re not. Move on.
When the girls finished dressing Amanda up like a living doll, they squealed and giggled and wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing she looked. Then they scrambled to get themselves ready for the dance.
The teachers had ordered everyone to stay off the central field until the official start of the dance at 7:00 p.m. although the outdoor cafeteria was fortunately still open for dinner. Grace wouldn’t let Amanda leave the dorms to get food. “Are you kidding? It has to be a surprise. I’ll go get you a plate. Stay here. Oh! Margaret, what about that eye shadow—”
“Nope.” Amanda raised both hands and shook her head. “I’ll wait here for food, Grace, but I am not wearing makeup.”
“Why?”
“That’s where I draw the line. Not my thing.”