by Patti Larsen
“And what,” she asked, “are you doing out of class?”
***
Chapter Five
She looked familiar and I had the feeling I should know who she was. Didn’t Principal MacKay say something about her in the gym? I couldn’t remember, really. Alison had been yammering at me about one thing or another so my attention was blown. My initial reaction was to be a smart ass. But I checked my snide comeback line in favor of caution.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was helping a new student find his homeroom.”
The bone-thin woman glared down her long, narrow nose at me, black horn-rimmed glasses making her look the classic nasty librarian. The wool suit didn’t do much for her figure, either. Or the way her black hair was pulled so tight into a bun it stretched her skin back so her eyes looked all bulgy. That had to hurt.
“Your name?” I might as well have been a bug she wanted to squash. First Ms. Fiat had a serious hate on for me, now this woman. Who found these teachers, anyway?
Suppressing a sigh, I just barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “Sydlynn Hayle, ma’am.” Might as well try to be polite.
“Well, Miss Hayle,” she stressed the ‘miss’ like she doubted I deserved it, “that’s a likely excuse from a late student. You must have been aware the bell was about to ring.”
Seriously? Seriously. “He was lost.” What was I supposed to do, just let him wander around on his own?
Her black eyes widened slightly, making me wince as her skin pulled even tighter. “I see. You’re late because of a boy.”
Didn’t she realize, by keeping me here, she was making me later? “Yes,” I said. “Liam O’Dane.” And now that I was away from him, it was easier to process. And realize just how much of a fool I’d been in front of him. What was I thinking? Blood rose in my cheeks.
Naturally, my inquisitor took my blush as some guilty reaction. “Your hormonal urges are no excuse for tardiness, Miss Hayle.” Her voice had an icy edge, cutting the air between us.
My jaw ground together as I fumed, but I held it in while my demon writhed to act. Even Shaylee was infuriated, demanding the woman’s punishment. I’m certain it was clear on my face—unbending defiance. If she was trying to scare me, she had a hell of a long way to go. I’d faced down much more terrifying things than some bossy, nasty teacher with a God complex.
Those flat, black eyes narrowed, her pale skin crinkling between her brows. “I can see you require discipline to teach you manners.” She whipped out a pad of pale pink sheets from inside her jacket, pen following. Her long, thin fingers reminded me of a corpse, and not the vampire kind, scrawling over the page with satisfied gusto. When she ripped off the sheet and held it out to me, I almost didn’t take it.
When I finally did reach for it, she smiled for the first time without an ounce of kindness or compassion.
“Punctuality is next to perfection, Miss Hayle.” She pointed imperiously at the door to my homeroom. “You’ll learn this lesson if it takes the entire year.”
I trudged to the door in a huff, just barely containing my anger, only to realize she was right behind me. The entire class looked up when I entered, the wraithlike woman on my tail. I tried to mumble an apology to the teacher, Mr. Norton, but my escort beat me to it.
“Mr. Norton.” She glared around the room at the other students as if eager to find some transgression to punish.
Was that a brief frown on his face? If so, it vanished quickly. “Ms. Spaft.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Students, this is our new Vice Principal, Ms. Hortense Spaft.”
Shut. Up. Hortense? I caught my giggle before it rose, but a few of the guys in the back weren’t so lucky. Their snorts of amusement vanished as she impaled them one by one with her deadly gaze.
“I’ve escorted Miss Hayle to class,” Ms. Spaft said in articulate precision, “because she was dallying with a young man, which made her late.” Raising another laugh. Great. “This type of behavior may have been acceptable when Mr. Hunt was your leader,” like she was a general or something. Come on. “But I will not tolerate tardiness nor anything else which could stand in the way of your education.” She snapped her fingers at me before pointing at a front row seat, the only one left. Naturally.
I was not a dog. Or a trained monkey. With quiet deliberation, I turned to Mr. Norton. I’m sure I caught a short-lived twinkle in his eye. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one to form a fast and furious opinion of our new VP.
“Take your seat please, Syd.” I accepted my textbook from him on my way, ignoring the daggers of energy Ms. Spaft jabbed me with. Not that she was gifted, at least not with the power I was used to. But her entire being, the sheer weight of her personality and presence, radiated outward and was impossible to miss.
“If that will be all,” Mr. Norton actually smiled at her. “I have a class to teach. Everyone, say goodbye to Ms. Spaft.”
She retreated to a chorus of, “’Bye, Ms. Spaft,” like we were all first graders or something. From the twitch between her shoulder blades as she stalked out, we’d succeeded in pissing her off. The door closed very firmly behind her.
Mr. Norton returned to the lesson without another word. I glanced at the slip still clutched in my hand. Detention. I’d never in my life ever had detention. I was very careful to fly under the radar. Even Ms. Fiat only ever gave me absents if I was late. The spidery script gave me the creeps.
I hadn’t heard our old VP was gone. Mr. Hunt was actually pretty nice, the few times I’d talked to him. Okay, one time. Because I’d stepped on his foot. I seemed to recall he smiled as he limped away.
It was tough to put the whole thing out of my mind. My sense of fair play was poorly done by and I tossed around a number of scenarios, the first being going right to the office to complain to the principal. Surely if Mr. Norton wasn’t Spaft’s fan, there were others who had to dislike her just as much as me.
My other options devolved until my demon had me convinced if I let her take care of it no one would ever find the body.
Giggling, my temper finally cooled, I decided to run it by Alison at lunch. As we slid onto the bench of our favorite table, still wobbly but far more empty than it should have been, I finished filling her in on the whole debacle.
She was much more interested in why I was late. “So who is he?” Leave it to Alison to pick up on the uncomfortable part of the story.
“Some new kid.” I shrugged, trying to keep it casual while I toyed with my ham and cheese.
“Well,” she said, “you’re not the only one to feel the woman’s wrath, from what I understand.” Alison leaned closer, as if talking about Ms. Spaft would summon her. And who knew, it might. I was a witch, after all. We believed names had power. “She’s been handing out detentions left and right.”
“At least I won’t be alone then, I guess.” I scowled down into my chocolate pudding having given up on my sandwich. But the gooey mess just reminded me of Simon.
My sad sigh escaped me before I could stop it. Alison’s blue eyes filled with fear. “What’s wrong?”
If I had to censor every single breath, expression and swearword, this was going to be a very, very long year. “Nothing,” I said. “The table just feels a little lonely.”
She nodded then, anxiety fading from her face. Alison reached out and patted my hand like I was the fragile one. “It’s okay, Syd,” she said. “All we need is each other.”
“Am I interrupting?”
My heart jumped into my throat as I turned and found Liam standing at the end of our table, smiling at me. I had no control over my lips suddenly as they curved up to welcome him. All thoughts about magic and finding out if he had any went out the window with my logical brain. At least I hadn’t eaten anything yet, so there couldn’t be anything in my teeth.
One small blessing.
“Hi, Liam.” I turned to Alison. “Want to join us?”
She didn’t even try to smile. In fact, her face stiffened into an angry mask before her cold bitch perso
na settled around her. What the hell was that all about? I didn’t have time to find out. Liam set down his tray next to me and held out his hand to her.
“Liam O’Dane,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
At least she shook his hand, if with limp, uninterested fingers. “Alison Morgan.” She’d have been breathing fog if her tone was any colder.
Had to head this off at the pass, and now. “How was your morning?” Okay, so a bright, cheery tone only made things more awkward. Great note to self.
But Liam just shrugged and acted all casual and tasty. “I guess I learned a few things.”
“That’s the plan.” I suddenly couldn’t figure out what to do with my hands. I ended up grasping the pudding cup like a lifeline, my plastic spoon jittering up and down in my tense fingers.
“Syd,” Alison turned to me and, in doing so, totally cut Liam out as effectively as if she’d built a wall between us and him, “you have to come over after school. I just got the latest Mayhem Master game. It’s totally wicked.”
There was her brittleness again, wrapped up in a new, wheedling tone.
“I’ve played it.” Liam wasn’t about to be ignored. Good for him. “Great game.”
Her eyebrows pinched suddenly, but instead of acknowledging him, she instead reached out to me. “Mom’s away this weekend.” Now she sounded desperate, her cocoon growing to smother me. “You could stay over.”
So weird. The Alison I knew would have been all over Liam by now, not trying her best to make him just go away. Until it hit me. Hadn’t she just said it? All we needed was the two of us.
I loved Al, I really did. But this situation was clearly unhealthy. I realized then I wasn’t helping her by tolerating her neediness. I was making her worse.
“I can’t,” I said, staying casual. I didn’t want to hurt her, after all. Just ease her off a little. “Family stuff.”
Her blue eyes flickered to Liam and back to me. She suddenly grabbed her purse and stood. “Bathroom. Coming?”
How could I break her heart? I felt like the cruelest person in the entire world sitting there. But I shook my head, despite my guilt. “Be along in a bit,” I said.
She clutched her bag to her as if it would save her from my words, hovering there, waiting for me to change my mind. The tension was so uncomfortable I almost caved. But before I could, Alison let out a small, sad sound and left.
“Is she okay?” If anyone else asked me, I would have been furious. Of course she was okay! She’d just been through a lot. But Liam didn’t sound like he was judging. Instead, there was so much compassion in his tone I sighed instead.
“She will be. Sorry. Al’s really nice, honest. She’s just had it rough, you know?” I glanced around the cafeteria. “There’s been a lot of changes in her life, both of our lives, in the last year. Most of our friends are gone this semester, too. So it’s kind of weird.” I met his gaze then, the gentle kindness in his hazel eyes. Green flecks seemed to sparkle back at me. But the connection I’d felt earlier, the attraction tripping me up, had faded. Whatever the source, I was grateful it was gone. So just normal hormones then. Which meant no magical excuse for my traitorous thoughts.
Peachy.
“I get it.” He took a big bite of his apple, the crunching sound loud in the quiet between us. “My mom and I have moved around a lot, makes finding friends and keeping them really hard.”
“Tell me about it.” Liam still had a wonderful earthy scent, and as the last of the odd feeling faded I found I was left with a sense of total comfort around him, like I’d known him my whole life. “We’ve moved, like, a million times.”
We bumped fists in a show of solidarity. “What’s your roaming story?” He took another bite, his entire attention focused on me.
“Just family stuff.” Not like I could tell him we were forced to move so often because my coven or some member of it accidentally did something magical enough it attracted mortal attention. Nothing like turning someone’s house into a multi-colored mushroom to spark some concerns in the real world.
He nodded. “Me too.” Liam set down his apple, peeling back the lip of his own chocolate pudding. “Mom’s got these itchy feet. We’ll find a new place, right? Then like a year later she’s all anxious to move on, try something new.” He shook his head. “She’s always talking about the experience of living and how you can’t do it in one place.”
“What do you think?” I tried a scoop of dessert, suddenly hungry again.
“I think,” he said, “I’d like to find somewhere to be and never, ever move again.”
I laughed with him. “Welcome to Wilding Springs.” The pudding was actually pretty tasty. “So far, so good.”
“I’m actually from here.” Liam went back to his apple. So he had weird eating habits. Fair enough. “My dad was born here and my grandfather still lives in town. Mom always hated it here so when Dad died, she couldn’t wait to cut out.”
I wanted to say I was sorry for his loss, but from the look on his face it wasn’t necessary. “I’m happy to be back,” he said, so softly I almost missed it. “I was only three years old when we left, but I feel like I’m home. Weird, right?” The rest of his apple devoured, he went back to his pudding.
“What brought you back?” Why did it feel like it was just him and me in the room? And why did he feel so familiar?
“My grandfather.” Liam grinned. “He begged us, but Mom always said no. But they had to put him in a hospital, dementia or something similar, so Mom finally agreed.” He tossed his spoon to the table, folding his arms in front of him. “I’m trying to spend as much time with him as I can. But he’s not the man I remember.”
I reached out for Liam, squeezed his hand, warmth spreading between us. The soft sadness in his face faded and he smiled.
“I have no idea why,” he said, “but I feel like I could tell you anything.” Liam chuckled and pulled away, turning sideways to half frown at me, though his eyes still sparkled with humor. “I’m usually a lone wolf at a new school. Making friends is a waste of time when you know you’re moving on.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know. But you’re right, I get it. It’s like…”
“Like I’ve always known you.” Liam rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Stupid, right?”
“Then we both are.” I caught myself grinning like a fool. “I’ll take it.”
He nodded. “Me too.” Liam stood with his messy tray in his hands. “See you, Syd Hayle.”
“See you, Liam O’Dane.” I watched him walk away, still happy inside. Obviously I’d made friends before, which was a miracle in itself. But in Liam, I felt like I had the kind of friend time itself couldn’t touch.
As I turned back to my own massacred lunch, I felt a stab of refreshed guilt. Alison. Time to track her down and see if I’d done her more harm than good.
***
Chapter Six
An hour of detention being stared at by Ms. Spaft had to come in on my top five most despised life events, and I’d been through some doozies. But at least Alison had been right. I was far from alone. In fact, the class was packed to the point she’d had extra chairs brought in to accommodate the easily fifty kids crammed into the classroom.
Fabulous way to kick off the first day of school. The worst part wasn’t the detention itself, but the task assigned to each of us by our overlady. I glared at the paper in front of me, my fourth attempt at writing her an apology she’d accept as sufficiently repentant. The girls inside me weren’t the least helpful, my demon suggesting we shove said letter somewhere Ms. Spaft wouldn’t find it until her next trip to the bathroom while Shaylee alternated between urging me to just comply and getting huffy over a princess being bossed about by a mere mortal.
It’s not like my written sorry for something I shouldn’t be sorry for was the only one being rejected. Football jocks sweated beside cheer girls and even a few of the local braniacs joined us, meltdowns imminent. I wasn’t looking forward to the puddles of tears steaming their g
lasses or the sound of snuffling snot, the inevitably accompaniment to said tears. Clearly the woman’s only intention was total and utter humiliation.
It was obvious from the get go, the moment she slammed the detention room door, getting everyone’s attention.
“Students.” She said the word like we were evil incarnate. “Sit. Down.”
The what I assumed was typical carousing going on during detention came to an abrupt end. Even the tough guys found their seats as Ms. Spaft swept the room with her black-eyed gaze.
“Now,” she said. “Each of you has broken school rules in one way or another. It is my task, as your new Vice Principal, to ensure all students follow the letter of the law.” I pictured her in a police uniform while my demon hummed her unhappiness. What had I gotten myself into? “That being said, in order to impress upon you the importance of being good students who only add value to your school, you will write a letter to me, apologizing for your behavior with your assurance such behavior will never happen again.”
It was a threat. Everyone felt it, no question. Which led us to the present, the clock above her desk ticking past the hour, her steady, watchful gaze never leaving us. I don’t even think she blinked.
My dear Ms. Spaft,
It’s clear to me how very wrong I was this morning and my actions went against the best interests of everyone at Wilding Springs High. Being late is one of the worst offenses I could commit and I am so very sorry I forced you to confront me and take action. I understand now paying attention to boys instead of my schoolwork and responsibilities has led me astray. Thank you very much for showing me just how important it is to follow the rules. I look forward to your leadership for the rest of the year, knowing your guidance will help me be the best student I can be.