How to Ditch Your Fairy

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How to Ditch Your Fairy Page 8

by Justine Larbalestier


  Tahn’s eyebrows shot up. She looked down at her screen. “Says here you’ve been sleeping well.”

  “Yes, Doctor, when I get to bed I fall asleep right away.”

  “And yet you’re yawning?” She poked at the screen. “You’re doing public service?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “You were logged out of your session last night at five a.m.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Perhaps that is why you’re yawning?” she said. “You’re not getting to bed early enough for a sufficient night’s sleep.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Charlie, lots of students in their first year at Sports have difficulty adjusting. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If there’s something going on at home you should let me know. We want to work with you to solve your problems.”

  Her screen beeped.

  “Your blood work is excellent. Your physical adjustment to Sports High is going very well indeed. Now we only have to help with your mental adjustment. I’ve scheduled an appointment with one of the counselors at lunch today.”

  I nodded, trying not to let my dismay show. Now I’d have to make up the class (Accounting) this physical had replaced during my dinner break. I’d been hoping to do as much homework as possible during lunch and dinner so I wouldn’t have a repeat of last night’s disaster and resulting five a.m. bedtime. Sigh.

  “You’d better hurry along to your next class if you don’t want to get another demerit.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  I jumped up and without actually running got out of there as fast as I could. I had five minutes to make my next class. Piece of cake. I glanced at my timetable. Fencing. And it was still in Merckx.

  Dung.

  No way was I going to make it on time. Yet another demerit to be worked off. On the other hand, Steffi seemed to like me and I was positive that my fairy was getting lighter.

  But at first recess Steffi and Fiorenze were side by side, dangling their feet in the pond and feeding the ducks (though both taking off your shoes and feeding the ducks are infractions). I had to blink to keep from crying. Crying is also an infraction.

  For just a second I thought about transferring to another school. Or killing them both.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected. Stupid-Name’s fairy had worked on him yesterday. Why not today? As long as Fiorenze and her fairy were around it didn’t matter whether Steffi liked me or not.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie,” Rochelle said, handing me a protein bar—mangosteen again, erk!—and pulling me away. “C’mon, let’s shoot some hoops. I can show you some new drills.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Rochelle’s Lucky Day

  Days walking: 66

  Demerits: 4

  Conversations with Steffi: 8

  Doos clothing acquired: 0

  Game suspensions: 1

  Public service hours: 16

  Hours spent enduring Fiorenze

  Stupid-Name’s company: 2.75

  By Saturday I had racked up eleven (eleven!) additional demerits, bringing my grand total to seventeen, or it would have except that ten more hours of public service got me down to seven and kept me from getting any more game suspensions. Missing my cricket match on Saturday had been malodorous in the extreme, but at least I’d been able to do another three hours of public service and thus end with only four demerits.

  It was still my worst week ever. On top of my inevitable lateness demerits, I managed to forget to recharge my tablet so that I had to borrow a crappy one from tech support, as well as forgetting my Statistics and Health homework. According to the counselor, Ms. Wilkinson, whom I now had to see twice a week (frang, blast, and dung), it was one of the worst weeks for a first year student ever. And had thus been duly noted.

  On the bright side, I got through the rest of the week without encountering Danders Anders again. If only I could say the same about Steffi and Fiorenze. Them I saw every day, holding hands, giggling, staring into each other’s eyes. Yet Steffi walked to school with me in the mornings as if Fiorenze and her fairy didn’t exist. When I asked about her he’d shrug or say they’d broken up. By recess they’d be back together again.

  It hurt so much it was hard to think about anything else. Why hadn’t Steffi stayed in Ravenna where he belonged?

  Despite us never issuing an invitation, they sat with me, Rochelle, and Sandra at both recesses, lunch, and dinner. Or, rather, mostly not me because I was in the library doing homework, which was preferable to watching the two of them.

  I no longer believed in their breakups. They would be together forever.

  It was seven a.m. on Sunday, the one day of the week I get to sleep in, and there I was waiting for Rochelle. She had continued not to take no for an answer. So even without ravening, rabid, rapid wolves chasing me, I was going to Fiorenze Stupid- Name’s house to learn how to get rid of my fairy.

  I really hoped Stupid- Name’s mom would find me a better one. I wondered if I’d get to look at her mysterious book. The one Fiorenze had told me about. What was it called? That’s right, The Ultimate Fairy Book. It better be.

  Nettles and Mom and Dad were still asleep. Except for that one awkward walk home with Dad, I’d barely seen my parents all week. I missed them. I even missed Nettles. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d cooked together or she’d done my hair. Nettles is vastly gifted at hair. I even missed her yelling at me about my lack of creativity and originality.

  There was a loud knock. I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and opened the door.

  The early- morning sunlight made Rochelle’s skin gleam and her dress golden. I closed the door behind me and saw that the dress was gray, not gold. It floated, making her look just how I imagined a fairy would.

  “Wow!” I picked up the hem, discovering layers. The top few slid through my fingers. “So soft. Like it’s made of clouds or something.”

  “Just silk.” Rochelle twirled. The layers flared out and floated softly through the air. I’d never seen such a beautiful dress before.

  “So I’m guessing the designer fair was a success.”

  Rochelle grinned. “It’s vintage, by Our Diviya, would you believe! From before she died, so not only did she really design this one, I found pictures of her wearing it!”

  “No!”

  “Yes! Guess how much it cost?”

  “I can’t. Knowing your fairy—ten cents! Seems like the better the clothes she finds you, the cheaper they are.”

  Rochelle smiled hugely. “Five dollars. The woman was convinced it was a mistake. She checked through the inventory list, then the master list, and finally rang Our Diviya’s headquarters. And five dollars it was! I love my fairy. This is the best dress ever! And you should see the black leather coat my fairy found for Sandra!”

  I sighed. While they’d been finding the best clothes of all time, I’d been clearing another quadrant of weeds and glass.

  “How about the boots?”

  I looked down. “Is that suede?”

  “Blue suede.”

  “Blue suede shoes.”

  “Boots,” Rochelle said.

  “Were they courtesy of your fairy?”

  “Oh, no. They were a regular bargain. My fairy doesn’t do shoes. You know that. Sandra got a green pair. But don’t worry,” Rochelle said, squeezing my hand. “My fairy found something for you as well.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.” She opened up her backpack and pulled out a plastic bag. “Here,” she said, handing it to me.

  I took it and pulled out a dress. Emerald green and slinky. “No way!” I said, staring at it in wonder. The dress seemed to have been made out of fairy dust. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Also Our Diviya. See? It’s bias cut. That’s her trademark. Go hang it up. You have to treat it gently. It’s vintage.”

  “Thank you, Ro. You’re the doosest!” I dashed upstairs, hung it up carefully, and then dashed back down again.

  Rochelle grinned.
“Can’t wait to see you wear it.”

  I shut the front door behind us. “Off to the witch’s place.”

  “Fio’s not that bad.”

  “Yes she is.”

  “I have vastly pleasing news for you on that front. Are you ready?”

  “Sure. Tell all.” We walked to the end of the street and then headed downhill toward the river. It felt weird following the route to school on a Sunday. But Fiorenze’s house was in the poshest neighborhood, on the other side of the river, overlooking the ocean. It would take us at least two hours to walk there. Lots of time for catching up on gossip.

  “Fiorenze and Stefan have broken up.”

  A tiny electric spurt of happiness went through me and then just as quickly disappeared. “Again. How many times is that now? They’ll be back together within nanoseconds.”

  “I don’t think so.” Rochelle screwed up her nose. “Fiorenze was at the fair too.”

  “No. She was out in public? On her own?”

  Rochelle teeth- sucked. “Not on her own. She was with Tamsin. Her mother. Gosh, that woman has a talent for scaring the boys away. Anyway, Fiorenze came up to us, said hi, how goes it, what have you bought, burble, burble.”

  “She came up to you? Volunteered conversational openings? She burbled? Did she seem entirely healthful? No sign of fever?”

  “I know! It was odd in the extreme. She asked some questions about you.”

  “She did? About me? Maybe it was just because she knows you and me are friends. She is in your basketball stream.” It amazed me that just saying the word “basketball” sent a ping of sadness through me.

  “Oh!” Rochelle’s face brightened. “That’s my other piece of news. We’re not in the same stream anymore!”

  “We’re not?” I repeated, not understanding.

  “No. I’m A-stream now!”

  I screamed and hugged her and she squeezed me back, lifting me a little way off the ground. “No! No! No!” I shouted.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she shouted back at me.

  “How is that even possible?!”

  “You know Elena shredded her ACL Friday—”

  “Yup.” I touched my knee superstitiously. We were all afraid of blowing out our knees. “Oh, of course!” Why hadn’t I thought of it? Elena out meant they’d need a backup for her backup. Elena is a center. Rochelle is a center. I smacked my forehead. “I’m so slow!”

  Or rather so caught up in my own troubles. Selfish, selfish, selfish. I hugged her again. “Congratulations! Wow! They picked a lowly first year! You’re in A-stream already! Beyond-words doos! You’ll be in the starting lineup by the end of the year!” And basketball still won’t even be one of my electives. “Stop thinking bad thoughts, Charlie,” I told myself sternly. “Stop being selfish and sorry for yourself.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Rochelle said.“I’ll just be happy if I get some minutes coming off the bench!”

  “I always knew you’d be the first of us to make A-stream. I’m so happy for you!”

  “Thanks. I’m wholly happy for me too! And, you know, I just bet they’ll be holding new basketball tryouts soon. Elena’s out for months. They’ve lost so many players, they’ll have to get at least a couple of new ones.”

  “That’s right!” I wouldn’t have to wait till next year to get into basketball!

  Rochelle’s grin widened. “We’ll be playing together again. Soon, I bet. Now, I believe I was revealing some doos Fiorenze gossip.”

  I nodded. “She was asking you many questions.”

  “So, I asked Fiorenze where Stefan was, and she said, and I quote, ‘I don’t know.’ ” Rochelle looked at me expectantly.

  “That’s it?” I said. That didn’t mean anything. “She doesn’t have to know where he is all the time.” I didn’t know that.

  “But she said it with a shrug in her voice as if she didn’t care where he was and then she changed the subject. Trust me. They are well and truly broken up.”

  I tried to imagine what a shrug in a person’s voice would sound like and failed. “If you say so.” But I didn’t believe it. I’d had enough of Steffi’s on- again off- again linking with Fiorenze. I didn’t believe a word either one of them said.

  “I say so.”

  We turned the corner onto Mallett, the steepest street in New Avalon. Below us the river glittered and there were already two blimps floating over the skyscrapers of the city.

  CHAPTER 16

  attack of Danders anders

  Days walking: 67

  Demerits: 7 - 3 = 4

  Conversations with Steffi: 8

  Doos clothing acquired: 1

  Game suspensions: 1

  Public service hours: 16

  Hours spent enduring Fiorenze

  Stupid-Name’s company: 2.75

  Walking through the city even at eight thirty a.m. on a Sunday, there were cars everywhere. Horns honking. Drivers being hateful to every pedestrian who exercised their legally supported right of way. Drivers exceeding the speed limit, not caring whether they lost points or not.

  And then, worst of all, Danders Anders pulling up his car and rolling down his window.

  “Get in.”

  “No.” I kept walking.

  “Andrew, she doesn’t get in cars anymore,” Rochelle explained, following me. “Besides we have somewhere we have to be.”

  Danders kept his car at a slow crawl beside us, causing an instant traffic jam, filling the air with profanities, and more horns honking. What is it about cars that turns everyone into a doxhead?

  “Emergency.”

  “Me too, Andrew.”

  “No parks.”

  “We don’t have time,” Rochelle said.

  I sped up. There was no reasoning with Danders Anders. Up ahead was a pedestrian- only street. We could lose him there.

  Danders stopped his car. Right in the middle of the street! He got out and caught up with me in a few easy paces. Then he picked me up as if I weighed no more than a bag of cotton candy and headed back to his car.

  I screamed as loud as I could and kicked with all my might.“Let me go! Let me go!”

  “Can’t,” Danders said. “Emergency.”

  Rochelle grabbed his shirt, trying to slow him down. She is tall and strong. But he is taller and stronger.

  “Andrew! Let her down!”

  Rochelle put her body between him and his beloved car. “Let her go, Andrew. She doesn’t want to get in your car.”

  “Need her,” Danders replied, as if that was reasonable. Behind him the traffic built up even more, the horns louder and angrier.

  Danders pushed Rochelle aside with one hand while keeping me from escaping with the other. I screamed so loud it hurt.

  He winced. “Stop,” he said, reaching for the door handle. I screamed again, aiming at his ears.

  “Ow,” Danders said as Rochelle tried to stop him from opening the door. He swatted her away, while I screamed again so loud I thought my voice would break. Danders yelped and fell, taking me with him on account of his grip fairy. I landed on top of Danders, who was still yelping. I looked up.

  Two police officers. One of them holding a stun gun. That was what had caused Danders’s yelp.

  “Andrew Khassian Rogers?” the one with the stun gun asked, but I could tell it wasn’t really a question. They knew who he was.

  Danders blinked.

  “Let go of the girl.”

  Danders let go of me. I pushed off him. How many demerits did you get for being arrested?

  “Are you all right?” the non- stun- gun- wielding officer asked.

  I nodded. “He didn’t hurt me.” I doubted he’d used even a tenth of his strength.

  “And you?” the officer asked Rochelle. She had what looked like the beginnings of a bruise on her cheek.

  She touched it gently. “He hurt my face.”

  “Accident,” Danders said, rubbing his butt. “I hurt too.”

  The officer stood on tippy toes to look at Rochel
le’s injury. “There’s no broken skin. Can you touch it?”

  Rochelle put her fingers to her cheekbone. “It’s not too bad.”

  “Probably not broken.”

  “No thanks to him,” Rochelle said.“How could you?”

  “Accident,” Danders repeated.

  “Would you like to press charges?” the officer asked. She was not serious. Nobody pressed charges against stars of A-stream teams, especially ones like Danders Anders who were in their final year and on the brink of superlative careers.

  “I’d love to press charges,” Rochelle answered. “That would be joyous.”

  The officer grinned. “Wouldn’t it?”

  “Come on, Ro,” I said, grabbing her arm. “We’re still an hour away from Fiorenze’s.”

  “Okay, okay,” Rochelle said. She turned to the officer. “I don’t suppose you could rough him up a bit?”

  “I thought you liked Danders?” I asked.

  “Less now than I did.”

  The officer laughed. “Stun gun’s all we can do and it’s done. You can comfort yourself knowing that Mr. Khassian Rogers won’t be comfortable for several hours. Do get your face checked out, though.”

  “I will,” Rochelle said. “Thanks for rescuing us.”

  The officer tipped her hat. We waved as we walked away.

  “Something’s up with Danders,” Rochelle said.

  “You think?” Sandra’s not the only one who can be sarcastic.

  “I’ve heard rumors.”

  “Really? Like what? Is he going to run away and join the circus?”

  Rochelle laughed. “No, someone saw him with people he shouldn’t be with.”

  “Like who?” I tried to think who he shouldn’t be with. “Arts students?”

  “Hah! No, more like criminals.”

  “Criminals!”

  “I mean, they didn’t say, but that was the impression I got.”

  “Who said?”

  “Freedom Hazal. He said that a friend of his cousin’s had seen Danders at a temp nightclub in the produce district. It sounded like Danders was using flyers.”

  “Drugs? Danders? Freedom’s a gossip.”

  “Doesn’t mean there’s not something to the gossip. Danders is acting vastly out of character.” She touched her cheek and winced. “He never used to be violent. Flyers can make you violent.”

 

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