In Memoriam

by Michael Beaulieu

I know – Shar’s house. Shar’s house is a good halfway point. Her parents are always at Dunkin’ during the day and her sister is usually at school. That works. I shut my eyes and picture Shar’s house. I can see it almost like I’m looking blueprints for the house. Except I can notice other things, too. Like I can tell which two rooms are Shar and Ajra’s. I see glimpses, like snapshots, of the rooms. And I don’t sense that anyone is home. I’m not seeing anyone. So, that’s it. I close my eyes and imagine I’m a superhero, making myself giggle, then I open them and I’m in Shar or Arja’s room. I’ve only been to Shar’s once and only briefly. I don’t exactly remember what her room looks like, given that we’ve had more important shit to do.

  As my eyes sweep the room, I come to believe that it must be Arja’s because there are college textbooks on the desk, which has a PC sitting atop it, whereas Shar just has her laptop. Also, Shar is a complete neat freak who loves organizing. She would never have a pile of dirty laundry on the floor. Oh well, I feel strong enough to teleport the rest of the way and I’m about to do so when I hear a doorknob turn, startling me. Then the door opens and Arja walks in wearing a bathrobe, her hair wet. (The shower must have been a blind spot.) Her eyes go wide as she looks at me. Shit. Her jaw drops and she turns pale like she’s just seen a ghost. She’s angry but also nervous, her hands trembling. “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

  I can’t even begin to answer that so I teleport back to school. I feel bad because now Shar will have to tell Arja more about witchcraft and she’ll try to exploit that to get us to do magick for her. Like how the girls are supposed to do the soulmate spell soon.

  Unfortunately, I appear outside the caf only to look through the window and discover that everyone has left. This means fifth period must have started. Great. Now I’ll get detention for being late to class and I’ll catch hell from Shar once her sister tells her what just happened. Maybe I should text her and tell her before her sister can. Well, if her sister hasn’t already. I get my phone out of my pocket and text her: “Hi, please don’t hate me but I stopped at your house halfway back to school and accidentally appeared in Arja’s room and she walked in on me. I didn’t say anything. I just got out of there. Wicked sorry.” I click send and expect to feel relieved to have told her but instead I’m sweating what her reaction will be.

  I realize I can’t do anything else about Shar right now, but what if I teleport to my seat in class? A few students nearby might have a WTF moment, but the teacher won’t see me come in late and that’s the important thing right now. I concentrate on the classroom and see that my desk is indeed empty. It’s a corner desk in the back of the room anyway. Besides, Pete sits beside me so I shouldn’t startle anyone.

  I blink and I’m sitting in the classroom. Pete shudders, looking like a demon or Jenna just appeared.

  “Boo,” I say.

  He laughs but he’s practically out of breath.

  Mister Kernal, our trigonometry teacher, looks right at me. We make eye contact for half a second – as briefly as I looked at Arja – but he comes walking to our side of the classroom then heads toward the back and doesn’t stop walking until he’s a few feet away from my desk. “Miss Whiting, how nice of you to join us. I thought you were cutting class.”

  “No. Of course not. Why would you think that?” I give him an exaggerated smile because now most of the class is staring at me and I want to make them laugh, which they do.

  Mister Kernal’s face turns crimson red. “There will be no funny stuff, Miss Whiting. I’m giving you detention for being late to class.”

  “But I wasn’t late,” I say. “Ask anyone.”

  “Fine. Did anyone see Miss Whiting sneak into the class room after the bell?”

  Nobody raises their hand. Instead, people look at Mister Kernal like he’s tripping monkey balls.

  “What about you, Mister Dunn?” He raises his voice and asks the student who’s seated closest to the door in the front of the room.

  “I didn’t see her come in,” Mister Dunn says.

  Now Mister Kernal looks irate and his face is going from red to dark violet. You can see the veins in his head, too. Gross.

  “So, you snuck in through the back door,” Mister Dunn says, giving me the evil eye.

  I bat my lashes a few times and pout. “I didn’t. I swear.”

  “Well, let’s see what Miss Simone has to say about that.” He knocks on the door in the back of the class three times. Loudly, too.

  The door opens, courtesy of Miss Simone, who looks perplexed. “Yes?”

  “Did you see Miss Whiting here enter my classroom via this door?” He points at me.

  Miss Simone shakes her head. “No. This door hasn’t been opened and she wasn’t in my classroom.

  “Sorry for disturbing you then.”

  Miss Simone shuts the door as Mister Kernal turns to me. I think I see steam coming out of his ears now. We should be betting on how long it takes for him to stroke out. His left eyebrow rises a few inches as he approaches me. He tries to lock eyes with me but I keep looking away. I wouldn’t look at all but I’m honestly afraid he’s going to strike me. “Miss Whiting, I know you were late. I don’t know why your classmates are covering for you, but you still have detention and if you say anything else you’ll have it for a week.”

  Motherfucker. I know he’s right, but he can’t just give me detention when there are all these witnesses who say I was here all along. I’ll definitely be talking to the Principal Clarke. He thinks he’s fucked me, but he’s going to be royally fucked when she hears about this.

  After the seventh period bell rings I haul ass to the office, my face flushed and throbbing now. Seriously, it’s pounding and my jaw feels stiff. I don’t know what you’d call it. A face ache?

  I walk into the office and see the door to Principal Clarke’s office is open and I head straight for it, but a receptionist gets up and cuts me off.

  Her eyes look almost as angry as I feel. “You can’t just barge into the principal’s office, January.”

  I’m surprised she remembers my name. Under different circumstances, I might find that flattering. Right now it just annoys me. “I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

  “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

  “Not really. Mister Dunn gave me detention for being late to class when I wasn’t late. And the whole class knows it. Miss Simone will back me up, too. I was there on time.”

  “I see.” She just glares at me, trying to burn holes through my eyes with her own. Guess she thinks she’s going to call my bluff. But I’m not bluffing!

  I blow air out of my nose as my temperature rises. “Do I have to call my parents? My mother is an attorney, you know.”

  She thinks for a beat. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure we can straighten this out. Let me see if Principal Clarke is available.”

  I wait, impatiently, as she steps into the office and talks to Principal Clarke.

  I wish I could hear what’s being said, but I don’t have magically enhanced hearing like the witches.

  The receptionist comes out of the principal’s office and walks over to me. “Prinicpal Clarke will see you now.”

  As she returns to her desk, I approach the principal’s office. “Hi,” I say as I make eye contact with Principal Clarke. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  She motions for me to sit and I do.

  She’s already seated. “So, tell me what happened in Mister Dunn’s class.”

  “OK. I was at class on time, as always. But Mister Dunn mustn’t have noticed me because all of a sudden he says he’d marked me absent, but now that I showed up late he was giving me detention. But I told him I was in class all along. And he asked the class if anyone saw me sneak in after the bell and nobody did because I didn’t. He even asked Miss Simone if I snuck in using the back door, but Miss Simone said no, nobody even opened the door. So with all these witnesses that I didn’t sneak in, how can he still give me detention?”

  “Hmm,”
she mutters and taps her pen against the desk a few times before she speaks. “I’m curious about that myself. Why don’t you just go and I’ll speak with him.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I would’ve just gone to detention to keep him happy, but I have a memorial to go get ready for.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she says then clears her throat. “Sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant to say was that I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” I say and hurry off to go meet Emma, Shar and Juliana in the parking lot.

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  EMMA

  Since I brought my laptop to school today, I manage to finish writing my article for the paper halfway through seventh period study. However, I’m not sure Frogger 2016 is the right title. [I’m clever and I can do better. Fuck, yes!] I spend five minutes pondering this, trying to come up with something better. My article rocks and it needs a title that does, too. Et puis the idea to call it The Trouble with Frogs pops into my head. I believe there’s a book called The Trouble with Boys, so it’s a play on that. I quite like it, so I change the title and e-mail it to Ms. Rose. I figure my turning it in before the deadline tomorrow will improve my chances of making the paper. All I know is, I’m not doing that interview with Wendy if they don’t bring me aboard. As it is, the more I think about it, the less I want to do it. It would be too easy to put my foot in my mouth and I don’t want to embarrass myself or my girls. [Screw that. My sisters should come before having an extracurricular activity on my college applications. So, why the fuck am I even trying to write for the paper? Oh, that’s right, because I’m selfish and I don’t care.] No, of course I care. Why am I so at war with my own thoughts lately? It’s like my brain is experiencing ‘roid rage and I’m not even on steroids. I wonder if it could be the psyche meds? Bien sûr! Of course, drugs that effect the brain and have a laundry list of potential side-effects could make one’s thoughts disagree with them.

  Since the school has wifi, I go on Facebook while I’m waiting for the school day to end. I’d talk to Shar telepathically, but she’s focused on doing her homework and I know she wants to get it done now so she doesn’t have to worry about doing it later.

  If Facebook is any indication, it seems that people are still taking sides where we’re concerned. Those memes calling us “murderers” and “heroes” are still going around. I still find the one where someone put bullet holes in the center of our foreheads especially disturbing, but I guess I’m a bit desensitized to this crap now. It would’ve bothered me a lot more two weeks ago. Funny how so much has happened since then.

  I tire of Facebook so I go on Instagram. For some stupid reason, they won’t let you upload photos on their website. You can do everything else, though, so I look at the latest photos from my friends and other random people I follow. Unfortunately, IG is as plagued with memes as Facebook these days. Some of the things they say almost sound like spells or prayers. Actually, some of them are prayers. [I just ignore them because they’re mostly Christian and most of those bastards posting them would go dousing themselves in holy water if they knew that I prayed to Gods and Goddesses.]

  I’m about to close my laptop when I hear the clicking sound it makes when I have a new e-mail. It’s probably just spam, but for some reason a warm, tingling sensation washes over me. The opposite of the freezing cold feeling I get when something bad is going to happen. It’s quite pleasant, and it’s happened before when I was about to get good news, so I check it. To my surprise, it’s Ms. Rose writing back already. It reads: “Emma, I love your article and will be advising our staff to bring you aboard. And we already know that Wendy is in your corner. In other words, I’m 98% certain that you’ve made the paper. Congrats!”

  I’ve made the paper! I tell Shar telepathically as she packs up her backpack; the period is over in two minutes.

  A big smile appears on her face. Em, that’s so awesome! Congrats!

  I bet you’ll make the swim team, too.

  I sure hope so.

  The bell rings and students start hurrying out of the room.

  “Well, I’m off to my try out,” Shar says as we get up.

  “Bonne chance,” I say, shoving my laptop into my backpack. “You’ve got this.”

  “Thanks. See you outside after.” She smiles and hurries off.

  Sati and the Donatello twins are just lingering here in the classroom by the door. Whatever they’re whispering about, they think it’s rather funny and they keep looking at me so apparently they’re having a laugh at my expense. [What fucking bitches. I should whip their asses.] Part of me would love to punch the smile right off of Sati’s face, but I have to go get ready for the memorial and can’t risk getting detention.

  As I approach the door, they get quiet and stop laughing.

  “See you later,” Sati says and gives me an evil grin.

  “Not if I see you first,” I say – like I could give a fuck – and smirk at them. I have to bite my tongue and head into the hall before I say something else and get in trouble. Or give Sati a mean right hook.

  Not surprisingly, the three blackheart bitches burst out laughing again as soon as I’m out of the room. Fucking weirdos. I should spell their mouths shut – permanently – so they can’t spread any more rumors about my friends. Oh, there are so many things I could do to them. [I should take a page from J and poison them with belladonna. I could even leave boar’s hearts in their lockers. Wouldn’t that be fun?] Actually, no, they’d probably get a kick out of that. And they could hurt themselves – or, worse, others – while hallucinating.

  Why am I even thinking about this? Oh yeah, because I can’t let them get away with telling lies about January and Shar. They’re both sweethearts and don’t deserve that. Even if January’s mouth is what prompted them to say they were doing coke. But I’m resisting the temptation to open a can of J on the blackhearts for now. That would be stupid, not to mention evil. Besides, in an alternate reality, we’re probably friends with Sati and the twins. And they might be the only other witches at school. If that’s indeed what they are. They have to be something to have been immune to January and Shar’s hypnosis.

  It occurs to me that I could put a curse on them just by wishing it on them, according to what Great Grandmother Ruth said during our last visit. But I won’t. [I should kill the stupid bitches.] Not now. The little voice inside me is telling me to, but I’m making an effort to tune it out. Besides, I don’t have my pentacle necklace on so I could wind up using serious black magick right now if I’m not careful. Can’t forget what George said about me having more black magick than the others because I played a bigger role in killing J. I don’t want to go nuclear or pull a Carrie or something so I’m looking for my pentacle talisman as soon as I get home. Unfortunately, it won’t be until after the memorial, but I’ll be in good company there and shouldn’t be agitated by anyone. So, I should be able to keep my darker impulses to myself. I just need to think good thoughts. Well, I can’t actually tell myself to just think good thoughts because when I do that I always end up having dark ones. Autrement dit (in other words), I try so hard not to think of bad things that I make myself do so.

  To get my desire to beat up Sati and the Donna-tell-all twins out of my head, I imagine myself having a threesome with Jim and January as I head for the door leading to the student parking lot. Perhaps that’s a dark desire, but it’s one I enjoy thinking about. Besides, sex is a good thing. And if I want to have a fucking threesome I will. Well, maybe someday. I don’t see it happening anytime soon with January in love with Pete and me in love with Jim.

  As I head outside, I see Juliana and Lia in Juliana’s car. Jim is parked a few spots down but him and Pete aren’t there yet. So, I head over to chat with Lia and she gets out of the car to greet me.

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  SHAR

  I made it a point to finish all my homework in seventh period study since I have the memorial tonight. Now I’m about to get changed for
my swim team try out. I just feel weird trying out when I know Li is at home feeling miserable. Well, she texted that she was feeling better after her nap, but she might just be saying that for my sake. I said I was going to forget swim team so I could go see her sooner, but she insisted I stay. She texted that Juliana wouldn’t drive me to their apartment after school until after I try out. So, what choice do I have? It’s not like I can just teleport over to Li’s like January. I’ve only teleported a few times and just short distances. I think the furthest I’ve gone is 400 feet. Nothing even close to a mile.

  Speaking of January, she texted me that she teleported into Arja’s room and Arja caught her! No sooner did I get that one, I received one from Arja telling me she caught my friend snooping in her room and we better do a spell this weekend to make that guy fall for her – not the soulmate spell – or she’ll never speak to me again. And she’ll tell our parents I’m a witch. I’m not one to swear but fuck. At least she acknowledged that we’ll be too busy until the weekend. This really sucks, though. Now we’ll probably have to do some black magick spell to strip that guy of his freewill and make him fall for her. Not cool.

  As I’m getting undressed so I can put my black, one-piece swimsuit on, I realize I’m wearing my pentacle necklace. There it is, resting on my chest, just above my cleavage. All week I’ve been keeping it under my shirt, just as Li and Em have, since it’s nobody’s business but ours what religion we practice. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. If I wear it, people will start saying I’m a witch. Trust me, those who know what it means will inform those who don’t. And since Li, Em and I are so close, they’ll assume that’s true of them, too. Then they’d deduce that we’re a coven. So, I guess I have to take it off. There’s the risk that I’ll use black magick, but I highly doubt I’d do that. It’s not like I’m going to snap and drown someone. Well, not unless they try to drown me first.