Hidden Realms

by Unknown

  “I know, they are seriously the most beautiful girls in school,” Agnes said.

  I looked around and realized that since the four cheerleaders had stepped into the room, they had commanded the attention of nearly every table. It was weird. Sure, they were beautiful, but the way people were falling all over themselves to be noticed by them gave them almost celebrity-level status. As soon as they sat down at their table in the center of the lunchroom, a group of younger girls came over with cold bottles of water, as if they were servants. I didn't get it.

  Of course, I was staring just like everyone else. I watched as the cheerleaders were soon joined by several other people, one of whom caught my eye. Drake Ashworth. I tried not to stare at him, especially after the way he treated me at his sister's store, but there was a part of me that was curious about him. At first, he'd seemed so nice and sweet, but then he'd changed in a heartbeat.

  “You can quit staring,” Agnes whispered. “Guys like Drake—”

  “I know,” I said. “They only date cheerleaders.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “He's definitely gorgeous, but he's just out of our league, trust me.”

  She was probably right, but the way he'd flirted with me before he knew I was from Shadowford. Well, he genuinely seemed interested.

  When I went to dump my lunch tray, I walked by his table, just to see if he would notice me and maybe say hi. Unfortunately, I was too busy watching him instead of watching my feet, and I accidentally tripped over someone's backpack. My tray went flying, sending ketchup and left-over french fries flying.

  I watched in horror as ketchup splattered all over Tori's white shirt.

  “Jesus, what the hell?” She stood up and threw her hands into the air with disgust. Then, she looked up at me.

  My face burned with fresh embarrassment. Of all people to fling ketchup on... why, God, why? It just wasn't my day.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I must have tripped on something.” I looked back to see what I might have stumbled over, but the floor was clear. I could have sworn I felt my boot hit something solid, but there was nothing there now.

  “You've got to be kidding me,” she yelled. “You are so dead. Who the hell are you, anyway? I've never seen you here before.”

  “Oh, Tori, didn't you hear about the latest resident of Shadowford's home for rejects?” Lark said with a laugh. “She fainted right in front of the school this morning.”

  “That's right,” Brooke added. “I heard they were getting a new freak over there. They should have warned us that she was so clumsy.”

  “What happened? Did you get too nervous on your first day of school, little girl?” Allison said.

  Everyone around the table laughed, and I looked to Drake, hoping to find at least one friendly face. He met my eye for an instant, then looked away. Coward.

  I straightened my shoulders, bracing myself against the painful blow to my ego. “Sorry about your shirt,” I said. “It really was an accident.”

  “Oh, you'll be sorry all right. What was your name again?”

  “Harper.”

  “Well, Harper, you just made the wrong kind of enemy.”

  The look in Tori's eyes was stormy and wild. My heart raced in my chest. I needed to get out of there. I moved to step around her and retrieve my tray, but she stepped with me and blocked my path.

  “Look, I said I was sorry. What more can I do?”

  I stepped to the other side, but she blocked me again. I felt the heat of anger and humiliation boil up inside of me. My fingers tingled with a familiar buzz, and I took in a deep breath. I couldn't lose control. Not here. Not on my first day.

  Someone might get hurt.

  On the table, my lunch tray rattled, then rose slightly into the air. I gasped and the tray fell to the table with a loud smack. Everyone around me grew silent.

  Across the table, Drake's eyes met mine, wide and scared.

  “I told you she was a freak,” Brooke said, breaking the silence. Some of her confidence was gone, though, as if I had surprised her. “Come on, y'all. Let's get out of here before she really goes mental.”

  I stood there as the group of popular kids filed past me.

  Tori stopped inches from my face and narrowed her eyes at me. “Cross me again and I'll make you pay,” she said.

  I had officially made my first enemy at Peachville High School.

  What Is It With This Town And Cheerleaders?

  I let out a frustrated gurgle and kicked the brick as hard as I could with my boot. Never in a million years did I dream my first day could go this badly. I wanted to go home, and it wasn't even noon yet.

  “Hit those bricks any harder and you just might bring the whole building down.”

  I twirled around to see who was talking. I sucked in a tight breath when I saw Jackson Hunt standing there at the edge of the building, cigarette in hand and a ridiculously sexy smile on his face. He was even better looking up close than I thought he'd be.

  “I'm serious,” he said. “You've got some kind of kick there. I'm impressed.”

  I laughed, then groaned. “This is positively the worst first day of school, ever.”

  “And just think, it's not over yet.”

  “Thanks, that gives me something to look forward to,” I said.

  He smiled. “I'm Jackson.”

  “I know,” I said, then felt like smacking myself for admitting it. “I saw you from my window the other day. I'm Harper.”

  “So, Harper, where did you learn to move objects with your mind?”

  My eyes widened in surprise. No one had ever called me out like that before. I didn't know how to respond. “If you're just here to make fun of me, I think I've had enough for one day, if you don't mind,” I said, suddenly feeling very defensive. I waited for him to call me a witch or tell me I was some kind of freak.

  “Whoa, that's not what I mean. I think it's pretty neat what you did in there. Seriously.”

  I turned to study his face. He seemed to be telling the truth. “You don't think I'm a complete nut-case?”

  “No,” he said. “Trust me. Stranger things have happened.”

  I leaned against the jagged bricks and sighed. Right. Stranger things than floating lunch trays? I doubted it.

  “Don't worry about it so much,” Jackson said. “It was kind of funny, really.”

  “No, it was completely stupid. Everyone seems to worship those girls, so what do I do? Make them my enemies? Real smart.”

  “Well, you made me laugh,” he said. He moved beside me and leaned one hand against the brick. “Plus, you have no idea how nice it was to see someone dump ketchup all over the precious Tori Fairchild.”

  I wondered again what his relationship to her was. It was obvious they didn't run in the same circles here at school, and yet she had practically been all over him the other night.

  “I hope it was worth it. Because now she wants me dead.”

  Jackson lowered his voice and leaned so close I could smell his shampoo. “Something tells me you can hold your own against those girls.”

  My palms began to sweat, and I felt suddenly short of breath at the nearness of him.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

  “Why does everyone worship them? I mean, they're beautiful, but...” I shrugged. “Lots of people in this world are beautiful.”

  “They're popular because they're cheerleaders,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “What is it with this town and cheerleaders? Jesus.”

  Jackson laughed, making his green eyes come alive. My heart sort of melted a bit watching him. Then he shook his head and squashed his cigarette into the ground.

  “They're poisonous, Harper. They get into your system and change you from the inside.” His expression smoothed over suddenly, like it was too much for him to explain. He pushed off the wall. “Don't let them get to you.”

  His words fell heavy on my ears as I watched him walk away.

&
nbsp; My Best Attempt

  “You have to wear blue and black.” Agnes poked her head into my room and made a face at me in the mirror. “Demon pride!”

  She was wearing a demon tattoo on her face like all the cheerleaders at school. She held one out to me and asked if I wanted help putting it on, but I stuck my tongue out at her. There was no way I was going to wear a blue demon on my face.

  “Fine,” she said. “You don't have to wear the demon, but you can at least put on a blue t-shirt.”

  I bit my lip and stared into my sparsely populated closet. Besides the pink tee I was currently wearing, I had a total of twelve shirts. None of them were blue. “How about black?”

  She shrugged. “I guess that'll work.”

  “Why do we have to go to this stupid game anyway?”

  “It's tradition,” she said. “It's like a family outing during football season. Mrs. Shadowford never goes, for obvious reasons, but Ella Mae likes the games. I think she used to be a cheerleader when she was in school.”

  I rolled my eyes. Cheerleaders. It was like I couldn't get away from them in this town.

  “I'm going to try out for the cheerleading squad next year again,” she said. She fell backward onto my bed and sighed. “I'm already nervous about it and tryouts aren't even until June.”

  “Why would you want to be a cheerleader?” I asked, thinking about how mean Tori and her friends were.

  “Who wouldn't want to be part of that crowd?” she said. “They're the most beautiful girls in school.” Agnes stood up and started leafing through my notebook of drawings that lay open on the end of the bed.

  “Yeah, but just because you become a cheerleader doesn't mean you'll suddenly become beautiful,” I said.

  “Ouch. That was totally mean.”

  I spun around, black tank top in hand. “Oh, Agnes, I didn't mean it like that. You're adorable.”

  She sighed. “I know I'm not ugly or anything, but you just don't understand. When a girl makes the squad, she... changes.”

  “How?”

  “You wouldn't understand,” Agnes said. “It's like a makeover in a way. Take Allison, for example. A few years ago, she was kind of an ugly duckling. Then, she made it onto the cheerleading squad at the end of her eighth grade year. When we came back as Freshmen, it was like she was totally transformed. Like some kind of summer miracle.”

  I changed into the black tank and searched through my stash of colorful ribbons for something demon blue. I found a royal blue silk ribbon and handed it to Agnes. She tied it around my wrist.

  “What's up with all the ribbons?” she asked.

  “One of my foster moms worked at a crafts store. She always used to bring home tons of leftover ribbons,” I said, feeling lame. “I don't know, I just like to wear them for color.”

  “Do you have another blue one?” she asked.

  I smiled. “Sure,” I said, and helped her fasten a matching blue ribbon around her ponytail.

  “These are really good you know.” She pointed to the drawings in my notebook. “Are you going to be an artist or something?”

  “Probably not. I kind of suck.” The truth was that I yearned to take art classes. Unfortunately, most of the public schools I'd been to had really crappy art programs, and there was no way I could afford to take classes anywhere else. I didn't like to talk about my art too much, though. In my experience, sharing too much about your dreams and goals with someone was pretty much just giving them fuel to hurt you later. “It's really just for fun anyway.”

  “Okay, girls,” Ella Mae called from downstairs. “I've got the van out front. You've got five minutes to get downstairs!”

  Agnes took off running, but I hung back to see which picture she had been staring at with such intensity. The book was open to a pencil drawing I'd done of my mother. She gave me up for adoption when I was born, but I found a picture of her in my adopted parents' files once. They took it away from me and hid it somewhere, but I spent weeks after that trying to recreate it with my pencils. The drawing Agnes had been staring at was my best attempt.

  “Harper,” Ella Mae called. “Everybody's waiting for you, honey. Let's go.”

  I ran my finger across the drawing of the pendant my mother wore around her neck, then closed the notebook with a snap.

  “Coming,” I yelled, then headed down the stairs to join the group.

  Maybe He Wasn't A Demons Fan

  Friday night football at the Peachville High stadium was like going to a fair without all the rides. There was popcorn, cotton candy, music, and practically everyone in town came. Ella Mae gave us each money for admission and snacks, then told us to meet her back at the Shadowford van ten minutes after the final buzzer.

  Mary Anne, who had yet to say two words to me since I moved to Peachville, took off to sit with Ella Mae. Courtney, Agnes and I stuck together.

  “So, what do you want to do?” Agnes said. “We could find a spot on the bleachers and watch the kickoff. Or we could get something to eat. We could always walk around and look for cute guys. There's this one guy, Grant, who's in my English class. He's delicious. I'll introduce you to him if I see him. I have a major crush on him.”

  We walked along the back of the metal bleachers. Agnes talked nonstop and I tried to pretend I wasn't searching for Jackson in the crowd. He hadn't been with us on the Shadowford van, but his car wasn't in the driveway either.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You know, boys. Did you have a boyfriend in Atlanta?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. There was this one guy, Lucas. He was sort of my boyfriend for a while, but I've moved around too much to stay with anyone.”

  “I know what you mean,” Agnes said. “Before Shadowford, I had been in like eight different schools.”

  “What about you, Courtney?” I wanted to include her in the conversation, but for the most part, Courtney seemed really shy.

  “I've never had a boyfriend,” she said.

  “Is there anyone at PHS that you like?” Agnes asked. “You've been going to school here for what? Four years now?”

  “Uh-huh.” Courtney pushed her straight blond hair out of her face, and for the first time, I noticed how pretty she was. “There's no one really special, I guess.”

  “I think we should try to find a boyfriend for Harper.”

  “Whoa, no thanks,” I said, shaking my head vigorously. It wasn't that I was opposed to having a boyfriend, of course, I just didn't want Agnes picking him out for me. My mind flashed to Jackson's dark green eyes and the way my entire body had gone hot when he came close to me.

  “We'll see,” she said with a smile. “It won't be hard for a girl like you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Just look at you,” Agnes said. “You're tall, skinny. You have perfect skin. And I'd kill to have such pretty wavy blonde hair. You know, you're pretty enough—”

  “If you tell me I'm pretty enough to be a cheerleader, I'm gonna punch you in the face,” I joked.

  She giggled and bumped me jokingly with her shoulder. “Fine, I won't say it.”

  As we turned the corner, I scanned the parking lot again for Jackson's car, but there was no sign of him. Maybe he wasn't a demon fan.

  The announcer's voice boomed through the loudspeaker. “Welcome, Demon fans, to another night of Peachville High football!”

  “Come on,” Agnes said, taking my hand. “Let's go down to the field to watch the team break through the banner.”

  As we made our way down to the field, I watched as the cheerleaders unfolded a huge banner that said “GO DEMONS! BEAT THE HOGS!” in bright blue letters. The marching band stood in two lines blaring pep music while the fans crowded onto the field, forming a sort of runway for the team.

  Toward the front, I could see Tori Fairchild standing on another cheerleader's shoulders. She was admittedly gorgeous, and from here she actually looked human. It sucked that after only one week at school, there was
already someone who made my stomach hurt when I saw them. Especially when it was one of the town's golden girls.

  Just then, the band started the school's fight song and the team broke through the banner, bursting onto the field amid roars from the crowd. I clapped along without enthusiasm. Boys in shiny blue and black football jerseys rushed by, some of them jumping into the air to rile up the fans. Drake Ashworth passed in front of me, and I felt a stab of hurt.

  He'd been so nice to me when we first met. Flirty, even. But all week at school, he'd treated me like I was a nobody. A social outcast. Not once had he acknowledged our conversation in his sister's store or the fact that he even knew who I was. To make matters worse, he was in my calculus class, the one disadvantage to being put in a senior level course. Once, I'd caught him staring at me during class, but when I smiled, he'd gotten a distasteful look on his face, then turned away.

  “He's so cute, isn't he?” Agnes said, forcing me to look away.

  “Who?”

  “Drake. That is who you're staring at, right? And don't say no. I've seen the way you stare at him sometimes in the caf.”

  I followed the crowd back toward the bleachers. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Okay, say what you will, but I know the truth, don't I, Courtney?”

  Courtney shrugged and looked at me with an apology in her eyes. Her hair hung over her face again and her shoulders hunched slightly forward. No doubt she had been putting up with Agnes' match-making for a couple of years now. I winked at her to show her that I wasn't bothered by it, and she smiled shyly back at me.

  “Let's find a seat on the bleachers,” I said.

  I wasn't surprised when Agnes picked a spot a few rows in front of the cheerleaders. She argued that she needed to watch their cheers closely so she could practice them at home. I for one didn't understand why she was already thinking about tryouts that were still a good eight or nine months away, but I wasn't going to force her to sit somewhere else.

  Brooke, the dark-haired senior captain, started most of the cheers, and I was amazed at how actively the crowd participated. Sure, most schools had a section that would cheer along with the group cheers. But this crowd? They were obsessed. When Brooke started cheering “Give me a D!” the entire home side of the stadium roared back, “D!”. It was honestly so loud, it startled me. Talk about team spirit. As the game went on, I started to wonder if more people had come to watch the cheerleaders than the actual football game, which, by the way, the Demons won, 34-10. Much to my dismay, Drake Ashworth was a talented quarterback. There had been a small part of me that hoped he would suck so I could boo him when his passes were intercepted. No such luck.