Pinehurst: A Magical Olympian Adventure-Young Adult Romantic Adventure/Fantasy Novel (7 page)

Nice choice of words. “See, Stacy? It’s just good old-fashioned bad luck.” I gave her a sympathetic smile.

Stacy got up from the floor and dusted herself off. She leaned over my desk, her eyes tight with fury. “I don’t know
how
you're doing it, but I
will
find out. You. Don’t. Fool. Me!” she growled the words through clenched teeth.

“That will be quite enough Miss Wilcox. You may take the seat by the window.” Mr. Reynolds pointed sharply to the desk in the corner.

“But–”

“Now, Miss Wilcox,” Mr. Reynolds ordered, cutting off Stacy's protests. He stooped to pick up the pieces of her desk.

“Humph!” Stacy spun around dramatically and actually stomped off.

I smiled to myself, savoring the sweet taste of victory . . .

Mr. Reynolds called the class back to order and we spent the remainder working in silence.

I was quick to dash out when the bell rang. I didn’t need another confrontation with Stacy. The temptation to mess with her was too great. But funnier than that, was her desperate attempt to prove that I’d screwed with her. The whole class had looked at her as if she’d flipped her lid.

I rushed across campus to my next class, Fundamentals in magic. Why the heck did all my classes have to be so flippin’ far apart? I was totally out of breath by the time I reached the door—very unattractive.

I slunk into class just as the bell rang, and took the chair beside Iris. Luckily, Ms. Powell was nowhere to be seen.

Iris groaned as she read the overview on the board for today’s lesson. “I really stink at fire charms. Why must we keep reviewing them?”

“Hello . . . because you
stink
at them,” I pointed out the obvious.

She gave me a sideways glance. “Why do you look so keyed up?”

“I’m not keyed up,” I said defensively. I fidgeted in my chair. I was totally keyed up.

Iris frowned but let it go.

“Mr. Brown, you should not be milling around the room, please take your seat.” Ms. Powell had returned with her notebook and a large box.

“Now class, I have a
special
treat for you.” Ms. Powell had an annoying habit of talking to us like we were kindergartners. It was only day two of being subjected to her more than cheery disposition, but already my stomach churned. By the look on the faces around me, I wasn’t the only one feeling sick.

Chocolate cupcakes? I thought.

“
Chocolate cupcakes
!” She pulled one out of the box. “
With sprinkles
!” The faces around me perked up.

I stared at her momentarily stunned. How did I know she had chocolate cupcakes in that box?

“Today, as I’m sure none of you know—”

“Is your birthday?” I murmured. I looked up from the drawing I’d been doodling. The whole class was staring at me. If I could have stepped out of my body, I’d have stared too. How in the world did I know that? She hadn’t said yes, but I’d bet the dress I wore that it
was
her birthday. I smiled flatly.

“Y . . . yes Miss Hollyander. It
is
my birthday. How ever did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” I offered. “I figured cupcakes and birthdays went hand and hand.” Feeling the awkward stares still on me, I added, “that and the birthday card on your desk.” Birthday card? How did I know there was a birthday card on her desk? I hadn’t even looked at her desk.

Ms. Powell looked over at her desk and giggled. “Oh yes, that probably did give me away.” She looked embarrassed. And with that, I was forgotten. She proceeded to explain today’s lesson: Lighting a candle.

I sunk back into my chair and watched the rest of the students
try
to light their candles. What was going on with me?

“I hate this!” Iris snapped. It was the first time I’d actually heard her sound angry. “What’s the matter with you? You're not even trying? I thought you said you could do this stuff?”

“What? Oh.” I’d been so pre-occupied with how I’d known about Ms. Powell’s birthday that I forgot about our assignment. “I waved my hand over the candle and murmured “
Floga
” under my breath. The candle lit up.

Iris stared in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock.

“Sorry.” I shrugged, offering her a small smile. It was the truth. A Floga charm was one of the easiest spells I knew. I’d taken it for granted that everyone could do it. I hated it that Iris had such a hard time of it.

 A few chairs down, a boy managed to blow up his cupcake instead of lighting it. Traces of chocolate clung to his hair and face.

“Poor James,” Iris said sympathetically.

I rolled my eyes. “
That
is exactly why we’re being punished and not allowed to do magic outside of class, Iris. It’s morons like that—”

“Well done, Miss Hollyander!” Ms. Powell stood over me. Low murmurs broke out, as every eye was now on my lit cupcake. I was the only one in the whole class who’d managed the Floga
charm. I smiled sheepishly.

“You may leave early today Miss Hollyander. Don’t forget to take your cupcake.
It’s yummy
!”

I glanced over at Iris. Her face was flushed. Her hair was slightly messed from running her fingers through it frantically. She had a wild look about her that I hoped never to see again—she still hadn’t lit her candle.

“Want some help?” I almost hated myself for asking. I knew she’d refuse.

“No. I’m going to light this candle if it’s the last thing I do.” Her eyes were transfixed on the wick with determination once more.

I blew out my flame and gave her an encouraging smile before I walked out. If only every class could be so easy.

I had ten minutes before the bell would ring. Ten minutes of quiet. Ten minutes before Iris came crashing through those doors, cursing because her candle wouldn’t light.

I sat down under a large willow and examined my cupcake. I moved my hand over the wick—it lit. Magic came so easy to me. It always had. It never occurred to me that others struggled with it. I waved my hand over the candle again, extinguishing its flame.

“That’s impressive!”

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun. A dark silhouette stood over me. My eyes adjusted to see Antonio smiling.

“May I?” He gestured to the ground beside me.

I shrugged. “It’s a free country.” Dang he was cute.

“So it is.” He sat down beside me, his legs outstretched, one crossing over the other. “Not many kids your age can control a Floga charm like that.”

“Kids
my
age?” Who did this guy think he was? “You’re not much older than I am,” I said defensively.

Antonio smiled to himself. No doubt recalling a personal joke. Whatever. I expected it was at my expense, although I couldn’t prove it. Yet!

“I’ve got to go.” I moved to get up.

Antonio jumped to his feet and extended his hand to me. “May I?”

I hesitated, afraid it might be some trick. After all, he was hanging around with Chad’s jerk squad . . . sort of. Yet, there was something about Antonio. Something that told me he wasn’t like other boys.

“I won’t bite,” he promised.

I took his hand, the warmth of it surprising me.

Antonio smiled, as he pulled me to my feet, his eyes locking briefly with mine. They were like pools of swirling chocolate, drawing me in deeper. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Perhaps he was going to tell me that he thought I was devastatingly beautiful . . . or not.

“Excuse me.” He let go of my hand, stepping away.

I felt flushed all of a sudden. He was beyond cute. No, cute was reserved for the dweebs in my class. Antonio was no Junior. I wasn’t even sure he was a Senior. But one thing I did know, a trivial word like cute would not suffice as an adequate description of him. Now, gorgeous on the other hand . . .

“Are you alright?” I asked. “Your cheeks . . .” Was he blushing? Why?

“I’m fine!” His eyes evaded mine.

Okay? I stooped to get my book bag—he beat me to it.

“Thanks.” I took it from him hesitantly. “Here.” Without thinking, I handed him the cupcake.

“What’s this for?” He took it from my hand, carefully avoiding the icing. His fingers brushed softly against mine, our eyes meeting once again.
Beautiful . . .

“What?” My mouth gaped open a little. Did he just say . . . “beautiful?” What’s beautiful? I studied him carefully. His mouth hadn’t moved . . . and he was still awaiting my answer. “It’s your favorite!” I blurted out. I must have looked as stunned as he did. His expression mirrored mine–shocked. How did I know it was his favorite?

“How did you . . .?” His forehead creased with confusion.

I laughed, trying to mask the awkwardness. “It’s chocolate. Isn’t it every guy’s favorite?”

He still held a confused look as he focused on the cupcake in his hand.

The bell rang, thank God, providing me with an excuse to slip away. I threw my bag over my shoulder.

“Evie!” Iris was waving me over.

“I gotta go. Enjoy the cupcake!” I gave him a small smile and ran over to Iris with my best sympathetic look affixed to my face. Somehow I knew that she hadn’t been able to light her candle—big surprise there.

I listened to Iris rant all the way to Biology . . . and all the way through Biology. In fact, if we hadn’t had to part ways for fourth period English, I’m sure she would have complained all the way through that class as well.

As it was, she had no trouble picking up where she’d left off when we met for lunch. With Gillian and Aubree there to hear it for the first time, her anger renewed itself and was in full force.

“I mean, you should have seen Evie. She just waves her hand over the candle and it lights up like the fourth of July! I tried for almost an hour, not even a hint of smoke,” she huffed.

“I’ve just been practicing more than you. You’ll get it.” I tried to sound blasé about the whole thing. The truth of the matter was, I’d managed the Floga charm the first time I’d attempted it. There was no way I’d admit that to anyone here. No need to rub salt into Iris’ wounds.

Just then, James walked by. Gillian and Aubree couldn’t help but snicker. He still had cupcake in his hair.

“Poor James . . .” I mimicked Iris’s tone from earlier. I had a new sympathy for those less equipped than me.

Aubree leaned in closer, her voice low, like a whisper. “I heard you broke Stacy Wilcox’s chair in math. She said you made it fall right out from under her.”

“Tell me everything!” Gillian’s ears didn’t miss a thing. She looked like I’d just given her an all-expense-paid trip to the mall.

“It wasn’t as glamorous as all that.” I waved them off.

“But you did do it?” Iris was just as intrigued as the rest. “And you didn’t tell me?”

My eyes darted around the room. No one was in earshot. Not that it mattered. I really didn’t like to brag. Besides, I wasn’t sure I was ready to share
everything
with the trio that had taken me under their wing. The look of hope on their faces however, broke me. They needed this: “The timing couldn’t have been better.” I leaned in closer. “Right in the middle of her verbal attack, her desk just . . . fell to the floor,” I said in mock-disbelief. “Call it a loose screw . . . call it Divine intervention . . .”

“Call it a miracle,” Iris added.

The three busted out laughing. I couldn’t help but join in. I wasn’t able to appreciate it at the time, but the mental picture of Stacy on the floor, screaming at me, was priceless. “I only wished I could have recorded it,” I said through the tears. “It would have made a great shot for the yearbook.” The four of us howled with laughter.

The lunch bell rang and The Kitchen emptied as quickly as it filled and everyone shuffled off to their next class.

I had fifth period Spells with Gillian, who used the time en route to question me further on the
Stacy Incident
, as it would later come to be known.

“So how did you do it?” She was still giggling.

“Do what?”

Gillian huffed beside me. “You know . . . break her chair.”

I gave her a long look. Out in the halls, this was a dangerous conversation. Someone might overhear.

“Come on Evie . . . we won’t tell anyone. Honest.”

I studied her closely.

“Evie . . .” She had her hands clasped in front of her, pleading.

“I just . . . made it.” I admitted quietly, still hurrying along.

“What do you mean, you just ‘made it.’” She put her hands in the air, making little quotations with her fingers.

I pulled her aside, out of the flow of traffic. I looked up and down the hall, surveying our privacy.

“Look. I just looked at her chair and made it collapse. It’s the same as with the sprinklers. I just wanted it to happen, and it did.” I continued to look around nervously.

“Without a spell?” She gasped. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“I don’t always
need
spells.” There was something scary about admitting that out loud. Even I had to acknowledge how strange it was; the look on Gillian’s face told me she agreed.

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” she half-laughed.

Relieved, I smiled back. Gillian hadn’t freaked out like I’d feared.

We hurried into class, just as the final bell rung.

“Good, we’re all here!” Ms. Spicer grinned with excitement. Ms. Spicer was a jolly-looking woman, one of those rare people who projected beauty. She had a round face that matched her round body. She was by far the most interesting teacher in this place.

“Today, were going to be learning how to perform a proper Pagoma spell.”

There was a collective “Ohhh” of excitement from the class.

“The first to do it will win this!” She held up a bag of red popcorn.

“Her favorite snack,” Gillian whispered my way.

“For those of you that don’t know, Pagoma is a paralyzing spell,” she continued. “When done correctly, you can render anyone or
anything,
immobile. This is
. . .
”
her tone sharpened,
“ . . . a
defensive spell only
.”

“Yeah, and it’s also required for graduation,” Gillian grumbled under her breath.

I sunk into my chair, trying to make myself as small as possible. I’d perfected the Pagoma spell years ago thanks to Miles. He’d secretly been instructing me—my dad had been totally clueless about it. This was a little bit of information I wished to keep to myself, especially now. After the Floga charm, there was no way I wanted Gillian reporting to Iris that the Pagoma spell was just as easy for me. That’s all I needed, was to be labeled as the class know-it-all!

“Now, I know this is your first introduction with the Pagoma spell, so don’t expect to learn it right away . . .” Ms. Spicer’s words drowned out . . .

I remembered it as if it were yesterday. I thought to myself. I was eight. George had hired a stuffy governess to look after me while he was away on business. I’d thought it would be funny to try and
freeze
her while she was crossing the street. I’d seen my dad do it with things on occasion—it hadn’t looked so hard. But I only managed to slow her down, she moved like a snail across the road. It was hilarious! I didn’t see what the big deal was—I
un-freezed
her in plenty of time for her to jump out of the way of the delivery van. I’d been grounded from the toy store a whole week for that little stunt—a bit harsh in my opinion.

“ . . . You’ll have a year to perfect it,” Ms. Spicer went on, drawing me out of my reverie.

Wait! A year! I have to play stupid for a whole year? I whined mentally as I let my headrest on the table.

“Miss Hollyander! Would you join me up front please for a demonstration?”

I gave Gillian an uneasy glance. Why did I have to be the guinea pig? Was it pick on the new girl week? I must have missed the memo.

“Don’t worry Miss Hollyander. I promise, it won’t hurt a bit,” she chuckled.

I made my way to the front of the room. It was only my second day so I hadn’t paid much attention to the other students in class. I could see Victor and Roland sitting in the far corner with their heads together—expressions serious. Both were definitely looking at me—jerks! Yeah I was standing at the front of the class but they could still, you know, pretend not to be staring so intently.

I folded my arms in a pout. They’re probably talking crap about me right now. I bet Victor’s telling Roland all about the
Chad incident
, making it out to be my fault!

I tried to ignore them, but whatever Victor
was
saying, Roland didn’t look happy about it. His eyes flickered to me again. He actually looked pissed. Why at me? What the hell did I do? I looked away from them, not giving them the satisfaction of making me uncomfortable. Stupid boys! Stupid, stupid boys! Where do they get off—?

“Now, Miss Hollyander, have you heard of the Pagoma spell before?”

There was a snicker from the other corner. Great! My day just went from bad to worse. Stacy was here too. Although, where else would I expect a
witch
to be but in Spells. How did I miss her yesterday? Oh yeah, she wasn’t in class because she’d been the
victim
of a faulty sprinkler system. I bit my lip, holding back a snicker.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it,” I finally answered.

“Wonderful!” Ms. Spicer was beaming.

“Now, let’s keep this simple.
Mr. Vandenberg
!” her tone became sharp. “Since you seem intent on talking during my lecture, I can only assume that you’ve already mastered this spell. Will you please join us at the front of the class?”

Roland’s cheeks turned pink. He strode up to the front of the room and stood next to me, his eyes meeting mine briefly. A mixture of emotion hung in them. Worry. Fear. Attraction. Whatever. I didn’t have time for Roland’s head games.

“Now then. Mr. Vandenberg, would you please perform the Pagoma spell on Miss Hollyander here.”

“What?” I looked from Miss Spicer to Roland. A sudden wave of panic ran through me. I didn’t like the idea of
students
performing spells on me. Hell, I didn’t like the idea of
anyone
performing spells on me, even if it was under the supervision of an adult. It made me uneasy. I could end up with a pig's nose, or a goat’s tale! Iris told me once that a boy put a goat’s beard on a girl by mistake. It took a whole day to figure out how to reverse it.

“What shall I do?” Roland asked.

I gave him a sideways glance. That didn’t sound good. He’d better know what he was doing. If I ended up with a goat’s beard, Roland wasn’t going to look any better once I got through with him—and I wouldn't be using magic to do it!

“Miss Hollyander, would you be so kind as to walk across the room toward the door. Mr. Vandenberg, I want you to stop Evie before she reaches it. The Pagoma spell,” Ms. Spicer was addressing the entire class now, “when done correctly, should prevent your enemy from advancing; or retreating as the case may be.”

The instructions were simple, and honestly, I’d have thought anyone could have done it. I
had
felt a small hesitation in my movements when a shadow passing across the wall caught my eye. I spun around, putting my hand up to block whatever was propelling toward my head.

I held my breath, keenly aware of the whole class witnessing the book that now
hovered
in the air. Crap. I released it, letting the book fall to the floor with a loud thump. I glanced around, the entire class looked awestruck.

Even Stacy sat there with a dumbfounded look on her stupid face. I wanted to grab the book and hurtle it back at her—my cover had been blown.

“Miss Hollander,” Ms. Spicer gasped. “You didn’t say that you already knew how to perform this spell!”

I glanced around once more. Yep, all eyes were still on me. Including Roland’s. He smiled.

“You only asked if I’d heard of it,” I said. True, but really, I knew what she’d meant. My intention was to muddle along, having just as much trouble as the next guy. This was considered “strong magic.” Something that kids my age certainly couldn’t do yet. Especially at the skill level I’d just demonstrated. I was smart enough to know that. If you couldn’t do a Floga charm, you certainly couldn’t do a Pagoma spell.

“Have you been instructed on this?” Her tone was implying. I could hear the disapproval in her voice.

“Instructed . . .?”

Ms. Spicer frowned at me before turning her attention elsewhere. She walked across the room, picked up the book and opened the cover. There was a more pressing matter to deal with. “Miss Wilcox! Would you please explain why your book nearly hit Miss Hollyander?”

“Reverse Pagoma?” She suggested casually.