“How do you know? If you don’t remember something, you’re not going to remember that you used to remember it.”
“Huh? You’re not making any sense,” Gabi said, tugging at her braid.
“Or maybe I am, and you just can’t tell.”
“Rori, stop!”
Whoa. “What did you just call me?”
“Rori.”
My stomach did a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn. “You know who I am, right?”
“Yeah, my annoying little sister.”
“Cut it out.” I smacked her arm. She was totally messing with me. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” she said, giggling. “You’re just stressing way too much—like usual. It wasn’t a big deal. You were able to fix everything.”
“You mean Lou was.”
“Same difference,” she said, stopping at the old McBrin house. “Everything’s back to normal.”
Only normal for me meant being the devil’s kid. Cole would never understand that.
“And I still think you can make things better with Cole,” Gabi said, reading my mind. We were in sync like that a lot.
“No, I can’t,” I explained. “With you, it’s different. You already know about my powers, so if they go nuts, I don’t need to cover up. But with Cole, I have to keep feeding him these corny excuses. He already thinks I’m an evil freakazoid because of it. But that’s better than letting him catch on to my secret. At least I think it is.”
I took a deep breath to suck back the tears.
“Gab, I just have to face facts. Until I can control my powers, I’m going to have to leave things the way they are and keep avoiding Cole at all costs.
charter 9
When I got home, Lou was waiting for me in my room. “Time for lesson one,” he said, whipping a Harry Potter robe out of thin air and wrapping it around himself.
I grabbed a notebook and pencil from the clutter on my floor and hopped on my bed. Then I just looked at Lou and waited. It was hard not to stare at him. He was my father. The man I had wondered about for thirteen years. And now there he was, right in front of me. If it wasn’t for the whole devil thing, I would have been pretty excited. But while he said he was past all that evil stuff, it was still hard to trust him.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said quickly.
“It’s something,” he said.
“I was just wondering,” I looked down at my empty notebook, “if you quit the devil business yet.”
He smiled. “I told you,” he said. “Not to worry. I no longer take good souls. I just watch over the bad ones. Someone needs to. Otherwise they’d cause all kinds of havoc here on Earth. It’s noble work. You should be proud of your old man.”
It was kind of hard to be proud of a guy known for his wicked ways. But Lou said he changed. And I wanted to believe him. It was just, well, if anyone would be able to lie and get away with it, it would be him. “But weren’t you going to get someone to take over for you all together?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Just as soon as the right person comes around, I’m out.”
That sounded more like a stalling tactic than a promise.
“Hey,” he said, lifting my chin up. “You don’t need to worry about me, I promise. But you do need to worry about your powers. You need to work on controlling them. And that means starting with the basics. Got it?”
I nodded my head.
“Good. You’re going to have to do everything I say. That includes committing to your lessons and practicing at least two hours a day—preferably more.”
Just what I was looking for—more homework! Whatever. I knew it was a necessary evil if I ever wanted to talk to Cole again.
“Your biggest problem is that you lack focus and commitment. You really have to concentrate and want your powers to work in order for them to function properly,” Lou explained. He pulled out his hPhone, which was like an iPhone only with supernatural applications. “Step one,” he read off of the screen. “Moving a pencil across the room.”
Seriously? “You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. That’s what you’ll be working on until you master it.”
I had hoped lesson one would be something useful like cleaning your room with the snap of a finger or turning paper into dollar bills, not something tediously boring. But I gave it a try, anyway. I placed the standard number two on my open palm, focused all my attention on it, and thought “move.” It didn’t budge. Twenty-three more tries all had the same result.
“You’re not concentrating,” Lou said.
“Am too,” I protested.
“Try gesturing with your other hand, it will get you focused.”
“Fine.” I made a big sweeping motion in the direction I wanted the pencil to go. The only thing that moved was my arm.
“Maybe I need to say something,” I grumbled. “That seems to set off my powers.”
“And look how well that’s been working,” Lou said. “This is about using your mind and your emotions to control your powers. To really get you centered on what you want to happen. It’s about concentration. Not words.”
“Wait a minute,” I protested. “I’m not doing this if it means my thoughts will start setting off my powers. I have enough issues.”
“Practice and that won’t be a problem.”
I was skeptical, but I kept working at it. So much so that my arm was getting tired.
“You need to really want this. Visualize the pencil moving. You’re not feeling it. You need to work harder.”
He was totally getting on my nerves.
“Focus, Angel,” he snapped.
“I am,” I said.
“Not enough, you’re not.”
He needed to get off my back—he was driving me insane.
“Angel—”
“What?!!!” I yelled out, my arm in mid-sweeping motion. “Leave me alone.” Then I picked up my notebook and sent it flying at my door—no powers needed.
“Everything okay?” my mother called out. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I shouted back down to her. “I’m fine. Just getting something from my closet.” She couldn’t know what I was up to. That would open up a huge can of worms.
“Congratulations, you did it!” Lou said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I threw the notebook with my arm, not my powers.”
“I’m not talking about the notebook. I’m talking about the pencil. Take a look.” Lou pointed at my hand. The pencil was hovering an inch above it.
“I did that?” As I looked at it, it fell to the ground.
“Yep,” he said. “When you were angry and frustrated, it set the pencil in motion. Use those feelings. Remember how you felt, the sensation that went through you. You’ll get the hang of it in time. Pretty soon you’ll be able to send the pencil flying across the room, and it won’t even matter what emotions you’re feeling. You’ll be able move it with thought alone, but that’s down the line. For now your emotions will help you activate your powers.”
I nodded. I needed to get this down, so I could move onto bigger lessons and ultimately learn how to keep my powers dormant. Then I could be normal again.
“Now don’t worry about setting off your powers in school. I’ll keep my eye on you to make sure you don’t cause any more problems.”
“No,” I protested. There was no way I wanted Lou watching my every move. “You are not to watch me.”
“But what if something goes wrong? Don’t you want me there?”
That was a no-brainer. “No! Promise me you won’t spy on me.”
“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” He picked the pencil up off the ground and handed it back to me. “Now keep practicing.”
I did as I was told even though anything, even my math homework, seemed more entertaining. But since this was my key to getting back to Cole, it was now the most important assignment of my life.
charter 10
&n
bsp; I didn’t have to worry about ignoring Cole in homeroom the next day. He didn’t even look at me. As I walked over to my seat, his eyes never lifted from the doodle he was drawing.
It made me sad. Sure, I knew I had to stay away from him. And I was still beyond mortified about the whole initials thing, but I hoped he knew there was more to the story. That he wouldn’t care that I acted crazy or ignored him or snapped at Max. I wanted him to make me tell him what was really going on. But that wasn’t going to happen. I had pushed him away.
As I sat there studying the back of his head, it didn’t seem to matter that I had majorly embarrassed myself in front of him. What mattered was that I couldn’t make it right. I had no way of letting him see that I was still the same girl he liked last week. Not with my powers all over the place the way they were.
When the bell rang, I ran out of the room as fast as I could. It was too painful to be around Cole knowing he was done with me. I needed to get away so badly, I didn’t even look where I was going. I just barreled down the hall—smack into Courtney. And I don’t mean figuratively. A real full body slam. Her purse and my books went flying everywhere.
“Watch where you’re going, cretin,” she spat.
“I’m sorry,” I said, handing her bag back to her.
“You will be.”
“I said I was sorry,” I muttered, as I grabbed my stuff that now littered the ground.
She hovered over me, and kicked my copy of Romeo and Julietright as I went for it. “Oops.”
“Knock it off.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, pretending to be all innocent as she kicked it again, this time sending it halfway down the hallway.
I stood up to face her. By this point we were attracting a crowd. “Go get it,” I said.
She laughed right in my face. “Like that’s gonna happen. Get a clue, Angel. You’re such a loser. No one listens to a word you say. And any second now, Cole is going to come to his senses and dump you. Honestly, I don’t even know how he can stand being around you.”
Apparently Cole hadn’t spread the word about what happened between us. At least not yet. Thinking about Courtney finding out made me feel even lower. “Well, what about poor D.L.?” I spat. “Having to put up with you? He must be a saint.”
I should have learned my lesson yesterday that messing with Courtney brings nothing but trouble. But I couldn’t help it. There was a whole group of people watching, and after the week I was having, I couldn’t let Courtney push me around without standing up for myself.
“Uck.” She covered her ears. “You’re making my ears hurt with your pathetic comebacks.” She reached into her pocket and threw a penny at me. “Here, use that to go buy a life.”
A few people laughed. “Please,” I countered, my anger rising. “Is that what you used to bribe D.L. to be your pretend boyfriend?”
“Whatevs,” she said.
I knew better than to sink to her level, but I couldn’t stop myself. I mean my life was falling apart. I couldn’t take her messing with me, too. It was bad enough, I was a loser. I didn’t want to be a loser who didn’t defend herself. I needed to hold on to some self-respect. “I bet D.L. isn’t even real,” I said, staring Courtney down. “You probably made his Facebook page yourself using a picture of some random guy.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, humoring me. “But newsflash, Angel, you’re the only one here who needs to create imaginary friends. If you haven’t noticed, people actually like me. D.L. included.”
“Yeah, then let’s see him. Bring him here. Prove you didn’t make him up.”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to prove anything to a freak show like you.”
With that, she turned on her heels and walked away.
chapter 11
“Guess who I spoke to in Hebrew School,” Gabi said. I’d been trying to get that darn pencil to move for an hour and a half without luck so I was grateful for Gabi’s call.
“Who?” I asked. But I had a feeling I already knew.
“Cole.”
My hand squeezed around my phone so tightly, I thought I might break it. “What did he say?” Part of me didn’t want to know, but the other part knew I’d never get to sleep that night if I didn’t find out.
“He asked about you.”
“He did?” I have to admit, I’d been pretty jealous that Gabi got to go to Hebrew School. Even though she did nothing but complain about it. I mean, not only did she get to spend extra time with Cole, but she got to have a major party at the end. It sounded pretty cool to me, no matter what she said. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”
“Well,” Gabi hemmed and hawed. “He did want to know why you were acting so weird.”
Just great. I flung myself back on my pillow. “What did you tell him?”
“That you had some stuff going on.”
“And . . .” I prodded. “How did he respond to that?”
“He just walked away.”
After a quick pause, Gabi started talking again. “But it’s not all bad. If he’s asking about you, that must mean he still likes you. Even after everything.”
Or, it was more likely, that he wanted me to find out from Gabi that he thought I was messed up. I was so upset, I had to hang up. This was a disaster. How was I ever going to make things better with Cole? I needed a plan of action. A list of ideas that could make everything right. I grabbed my notebook. Where was that stupid pencil? I checked under the bed, but it wasn’t there. Then I looked up, and did a double take.
There it was, hovering over my head.
It was just like before when I was angry about Lou nagging me. Only this time Cole was the motivation. It sent the pencil right in the air. If just thinking about him meant I could make my powers work, I was definitely on the right track. Finally, something was going right. My luck was turning. Soon I would have total control of my powers, and then there would be nothing keeping me from getting Cole back.
My focus shifted to the pencil flying above me. Move across the room, I thought. Instead, it dropped to the ground. Okay. Not quite what I wanted, but it still moved.
With all the concentration I could muster, I thought rise, pencil, rise. The stupid thing wouldn’t budge. Not even an eighth of a millimeter. Not even when I thought about Cole being mad at me. But I kept at it. Practice makes perfect, after all. Only, after five more tries, it was still planted on my floor.
Then it hit me. Maybe I was bored. Maybe if I tried to do something more interesting, it’d be easier to concentrate. Never mind what Lou said, I had to do what was right for me. I needed to try something fun.
I did a survey of my room. Lying in a heap in the corner was a Mara’s Daughters T-shirt I had worn so many times, I had gotten a hole in it.
I grabbed it and spread it out on my bed. That was it. I was going to make it brand-new. Better than brand-new. I was going to make it the coolest shirt ever, like the one Vale wore in the band’s video.
Morph. Morph. Morph. Hmmm. Okay, so it wasn’t working. That was fine. I’d get it. I closed my eyes and visualized the shirt I wanted. Black, one-shoulder, with a rhinestone M emblazoned on the front. I could see it. I could almost feel it. I opened my eyes, but I was still looking at a ruined faded T-shirt.
Please work, I begged my powers. Morph! Slowly the black restored to its original crispness. It was working. Sort of. My T-shirt was now black again, but that was it. It still had a hole. And it was still just a T-shirt. I wanted something hot. Something rocker chick. Not rocker chick fan.
I needed to do something more, so I made up an incantation on the spot. I had no clue if it would help, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. People with powers on TV were always using them.
“Take this T-shirt and make it change,
turn it into something . . .
The rhyming thing was harder than I thought. I had to be careful. I didn’t want to create something strange.
“Um, take this T-shirt and make it new,
Yes, that�
��s what I want to do.”
That was better. I was getting the hang of it . . .
“Make it cool, a really hip brand,
Like what Vale wore in the Mara’s Daughters band.”
This was actually kind of fun.
“I need to learn this to be with Cole,”
Hmm. Cole. Mole. Hole. Wait. I got it!
“Because I’d do anything for him—well, short of trading my soul.”
So come on sweater do it for me,
Change into what I want you to be.”
I chanted it out loud once, pretty impressed that I was able to come up with a rhyme so quickly. I tried to do it again, but I forgot some of the words. I really should have written it down. The waiting was the worst part. Was it going to change? I watched patiently, but again, nothing happened.
Then I remembered what Lou had said about moving the pencil. He told me to gesture with my hand to help me focus. Would that work for the T-shirt? I decided to try. I waved both hands over the shirt, pretending I was molding a piece of clay. I pushed my hands closer together to symbolize shrinking it (I wanted it form-fitting), made my fingers into imaginary scissors to remove the sleeves and get rid of one of the shoulders all together, made an M in the center where I wanted the rhinestones, and believe it or not, it started to work!
The hole in the material started to grow—making one of the shoulders disappear. The sleeves started unraveling, the edges of the large T-shirt shriveled in like a Shrinky Dink fresh out of the oven, and the rhinestones popped up as I tapped my finger where each one should be. They totally replaced the painted-on white logo.
When it was done, I was looking at the shirt of my dreams. Project Runway, watch out. The demonic designer was in the house!
As quickly as I could, I changed out of my boring, old T-shirt and into my brand-new rocker one. It was so awesome and the perfect fit. I could hardly believe I actually made it with my own powers. I felt so energized, I went right into my best Vale impression. I shook my hips, rocked out on air guitar, and sang the lyrics to Mara’s Daughters’ Caught in My Webat the top of my lungs. I was so into it that I didn’t even notice my mom standing in my doorway until she spoke.
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly Dress Page 4