That Witch! Page 2

  As if she was going to admit to picking up her grandmother. Puh-leeeease. Who in the world skipped cheer practice to hang out with old people? Well, secretly, she did, but it wasn’t anyone’s business. As a matter of fact, as she walked down the hall to her fifth-period biology class, she reiterated to herself for the thousandth time that day, none of the people she called her friends really knew much at all about the real her.

  She worked hard to maintain her image. Cassidy Rivers was the popular girl. She was the captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, senior class president, and the one with the expensive clothes and brand new car. She only had the coolest friends and was always the determining voice in what, or who, was in or out. She ran the school fundraisers and headed the pep rally coordination, as well as governed over the homecoming dance preparation. She was the girl every other girl wanted to be.

  And yet, she wasn’t herself at all.

  She walked into the classroom, took her usual seat in the back row of desks, and stared out the large bay window to her left. The bright California sunshine beckoned her, just as nature always did. She always felt compelled to go outside and enjoy the breeze, bask in the warmth of the sun, or appreciate the beauty of the beaches. The trees seemed to whisper her name, dropping leaves in a show of respect as she walked by. When lit, candles flickered a little brighter around her. Water changed to perfect temperature without her having to adjust the knobs. Even the air around her crackled with energy. Energy people thought came from her attitude, but in reality was just her magic.

  Yes, the real Cassidy Rivers came from a long line of witches dating back almost two hundred years before the Salem trials. No pointy shoes, though. Ugh. As if. Like the devil, witches wore Prada too. She looked down at her heeled boots to silently affirm that statement.

  So she was a witch, but of course, no one knew. Actually, she didn’t want the magic that bugged the heck out of her more and more each day. As a younger girl, it was nothing more than an odd attraction to all things in nature, but as she grew, so did the darn powers. If she wasn’t careful, she could expose herself with something as absentminded as snapping her fingers—which had recently proven to light all the candles in her bedroom one evening, scaring the crap out of her cat, Louie, in the process.

  She only had the cat because the darn thing had followed her home when he was a kitten and refused to leave. She let him sit outside for three days before finally asking her mom if he could come inside. Her mother agreed all too quickly, which was weird for a woman who didn’t even approve of pet fish, but whatever.

  “Good afternoon, class. Please open your textbooks to page eighty-two and silently read the lesson on cellular respiration.” Mrs. Wright’s gritty voice broke her away from her thoughts. She grabbed the book sitting on her desk and flipped the hard cover open, ready to turn to the chapter she needed to read. But when she looked down, the name scribbled across the inside made her huff in exasperation. “Brynn Michaels.”

  Ugh, what was it with that chick already? And why was she eyeballing her necklace earlier? The same necklace Nana had given her when she turned thirteen, along with a ridiculously long speech about the responsibilities tied to their heritage, the powers she would be coming into, yada yada yada. Truth be told, she wasn’t really listening then, and she refused to pay any more attention to Brynn today too.

  Chapter 3

  “TIME’S up,” Mrs. Temple said from behind her desk. Pencils clacked against wooden desktops. Students sat back in their chairs. Some had confident smiles on their faces. Others looked scared to death. Brynn felt good about this exam. There weren’t too many equations that had tripped her up. That last minute studying she’d done during lunch really helped, despite the pause for the Cassidy Rivers show.

  “Pass your papers forward.”

  Mrs. Temple stood from her chair and walked down the front of each row of desks, peasant skirt elegantly flowing behind her as she strode across the room to collect the finished tests. Her light-brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun as always, brown-eyed stare looking over the class, sizing up each and every student, even though she probably already knew who’d passed and who’d failed.

  The bell rang, and most of Brynn’s fellow classmates scattered like rats from a burning building. Brynn hung back to avoid the crowded rush and the lackadaisical bodies meandering through the halls. She quietly gathered her book and pen and the notebook that went everywhere with her. It was filled with all her silly, random musings—from things she loved to things that bothered her, and little notes about songs and bands or books she wanted to remember. The equivalent of a journal, she supposed.

  Brynn made her way out to the crowded hall, pushing past all the tragically hip and the devastatingly beautiful, through the nerds huddling around their comic books and the jocks who hit on cheerleaders every chance they got. She navigated through the masses and back toward her locker to grab the book for her next class.

  Lost in thought, she dug through her locker, oblivious to anything and everything around her. She kept her face hidden, just in case Cassidy wanted to taunt her again. She thought if she could just avoid any more confrontation today, everything would be okay, and she could go back to being another invisible blip far off Cassidy Rivers’s radar. She kept her head low until her bestie, Laura, popped up beside her.

  “So, how did it go?” Laura asked, plum lips spread in a smile as she tucked her purple-dyed hair behind her multipierced ear.

  “Good, I guess,” Brynn quietly responded as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. She had everything ready to go, all the books she needed for her homework, so when the last bell of the day rang, she could bolt straight out to her car without having to fight through the circles of all the other students. “There wasn’t anything I couldn’t answer.”

  “Awesomeness!”

  “Yeah.” Brynn laughed softly. “You coming over tonight for movies and pizza?”

  “Well, duh! It’s Friday night, right?”

  “True story. Mom wants to take me shopping tomorrow, but I totally don’t want to go.”

  As soon as Brynn turned from her locker, she spotted Cassidy charging her way through the crowd like a rabid beast. Okay, maybe that was a huge exaggeration. Maybe Cassidy was sauntering or taking light, even steps. But every time Brynn saw Miss Perfect Princess, her mind conjured images of evil witches with hooked noses and monsters from the great beyond. Though truthfully, Cassidy didn’t resemble any of those things. She was beautiful, too beautiful, and maybe that’s why Brynn painted a horrific picture of the girl most likely to become a supermodel.

  “What are you looking at?” Cassidy snapped, but she didn’t stop walking. She didn’t wait for Brynn’s response.

  Brynn would’ve lied anyway. She would’ve said she’d been checking out that crazy knotted necklace hanging from Cassidy’s neck, but truth be told, it was Cassidy she couldn’t take her eyes off of. As much as she hated Cassidy Rivers as a person, she couldn’t help the bizarre attraction she had to the other girl.

  “Earth to Brynn,” Laura said, waving her hand in front of Brynn’s face. “You in there?”

  Brynn shook her head. “Huh? What? Yeah, I’m here.”

  “God, why would you stare at her like that? Don’t you know better by now?”

  “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Whatever it was, you’d better get over it fast before you end up as a big red dot on Cassidy’s radar.”

  True story. Very, very true. When Cassidy locked in on a target, she didn’t forget them until they were completely and utterly destroyed, and Brynn didn’t want to be a last-minute name added to Cassidy’s “pulverize before high school is over” list.

  “Can we just go?” Brynn said as she took her first steps away from her locker. Laura promptly followed, hanging tight to Brynn’s back.

  Keeping her head down like always, Brynn made her way through the ambling students and hallway loiterers, down to the last door on the left. Her si
xth-period teacher—a tiny, frail woman with gnarled fingers, a bright white granny hairdo, and wire-rimmed bifocals on the tip of her nose—stood at the end of the hallway, yelling at boisterous students about getting to class. No one listened to her. They didn’t show her an ounce of respect. She was sweet, and they were horrible for treating her the way they did. No one would ever do anything about it and the woman wouldn’t take up for herself, and unfortunately, she probably should’ve retired years ago.

  “Hi, Mrs. Miller,” Brynn said in passing as she entered her last class of the day.

  “Hello, Miss Michaels.”

  Brynn gave her a soft smile, then headed over to the desk she’d chosen at the beginning of the school year. It was right up front so she could hear Mrs. Miller read from classic American novels over the low chatter of students who just didn’t seem to care. Choosing that spot had garnered her all sorts of petty nicknames—from brownnoser to teacher’s pet. Not that Brynn cared enough to pay attention. Some stuff simply didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

  She sat down, Laura taking her normal spot right beside her, and leaned over into her bag to pull out her textbook, when she caught the scent of flowers wafting by her. It was Cassidy’s perfume. Brynn would never forget that scent as long as she lived. It smelled of roses and jasmine, with a hint of vanilla to soften the overall ambrosia. The smell of it brought a dreamy-eyed smile to Brynn’s face.

  “What are you grinning about?” Laura whispered, leaning in close so no one else would hear her.

  “I uh… um….”

  “Tell me you weren’t smiling at Cassidy. She’s toxic.”

  Intoxicating, maybe. “God, no! Why would I smile at her? She’s totally vapid.”

  “True, but….” Laura glanced over her shoulder at Cassidy, then back to Brynn, as if that wasn’t obvious. Might as well hang a “we’re talking about you” sign around both their necks. “You’ve been watching her a lot lately. Is there something I need to know about?”

  “No!” Brynn blurted.

  No, there wasn’t anything anyone needed to know. As far as anyone else was concerned, Brynn and Cassidy were and always would be mortal enemies.

  “Don’t bite my head off, sheesh!”

  “I’m not. I just….” Brynn shook her head.

  She closed her trap and righted herself in her seat the moment she heard the classroom door slam and their dainty English teacher begin to speak. Mrs. Miller called the room to attention and took attendance. That ate away about three minutes of class.

  Brynn stayed in her own happy, little bubble, counting away the minutes until Mrs. Miller graced them with a quick read. She daydreamed of lying on her bed, reading or listening to music—maybe some Anne Rice and a little Secondhand Serenade. God, that sounded so incredible right now. Her Zen.

  “I have a project for you,” Mrs. Miller said, and immediately Brynn snapped to attention. “We’re going to do a literary scavenger hunt. Five books, one for every month, then a report at the end of the school year. It will be half of your final grade.”

  Well, Brynn had no problem with that. American literature was her strongest subject. She knew authors and poets and loved it all. This assignment would give her a perfect grade and kick her GPA up into Ivy League level.

  “This is going to be a group project,” Mrs. Miller continued. It still wasn’t a problem. Brynn could work with Laura and everything would be great because they worked so well together. Then the dainty old English teacher said, “I’m assigning partners.”

  Brynn bit down on her bottom lip to keep from cursing.

  “Laura, I want you paired up with Sarah.”

  Wait. No. What? Laura is my partner!

  She gave her best friend a this-can’t-be-happening look as their teacher called out the remaining groups. Brynn couldn’t imagine not working with Laura. This had to be a mistake.

  “Brynn Michaels and Cassidy Rivers,” Mrs. Miller said.

  And Brynn’s worst nightmare came true.

  “No!” both girls said in perfect unison as they bolted up from their respective desks. Brynn’s stare shot to the back corner of the classroom. Cassidy’s glare pierced right through her. This would never, ever work. She couldn’t talk to Cassidy, let alone work on a school project with the bubbly cheerleader.

  Failure was imminent.

  There went Brynn’s perfect GPA.

  There went her Ivy League dreams.

  Chapter 4

  CASSIDY stood at the very back of the class, arms crossed beneath her small breasts as she glared daggers at Mrs. Miller. “You can’t be serious!” she protested. “I won’t work with Marie Laveau. She smells like dusty voodoo dolls and cat carcasses!”

  The old lady didn’t seem to care. Her ice-blue gaze shifted slowly to Brynn. She offered the weirdo a sympathetic half smile before refocusing on Cassidy.

  “Miss Rivers, it is impolite to call your peers names. If you don’t want to do the assignment, you can fail my class,” she said, with all the calm in the world.

  “But, Mrs. Miller!”

  “No buts. The partner assignments are final. Now, please sit down so I may continue.”

  “Mrs. Miller, she’s crazy! I can’t work with her!”

  The moment she spat out those words, something rippled beneath her skin. She felt the fizzing and buzzing of electric energy in her hands. No. Not now. Please not now. She tried not to panic as she balled her fingers into fists at her side.

  “Miss Rivers, you will sit down and be quiet or you’ll go to the principal’s office,” Mrs. Miller warned. This time, the lady’s voice held a solid tone of resolve and authority that matched the final stare she shot at Cassidy. She held her gaze steady, as if daring her to utter another syllable.

  Glaring harder, Cassidy stomped her designer boot-clad foot down against the linoleum floor, creating a thump that echoed across the silent classroom. The fizzling held strong, even as Cassidy took slow breaths. The other students stared in either awe or sympathy. All eyes were on her except for Brynn’s. The freak sat ducked so low into her seat, if she sank down one more inch, her face would hit the edge of the desk.

  “This sucks!” Cassidy mumbled.

  Huffing, she threw herself back into her seat, ignoring the kids who were still staring at her as if she were a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered at the moment except the certainty of her soon-to-be catastrophic social homicide and that familiar, unwanted churn of witchy energy coursing through her body.

  Her mind raced with images of her friends laughing behind her back, whispering that she had to miss cheer practice just to work with the Bride of Frankenstein. The boys would stop fawning over her—something that didn’t really bother her since she never paid attention to them anyways, but they made life easier by offering to carry her books and wash her car. Plus, the jocks always followed her around like puppies waiting for a bone, willing to do anything it took to get her attention. That would all come to a screeching halt the moment she was forced to interact with Freakzilla in public.

  Or not….

  Maybe, just maybe, if she could only deal with Brynn outside of school, Cassidy could get away with finishing this stupid project without becoming a total outcast. It was the only hope she had of surviving the potential assassination of her social status. And now that she’d figured out a way to save herself, the fizzling started to subside, and Cassidy felt like she could actually relax again.

  When she glanced up from the closed English book on her desk, she saw Brynn peering back at her through the crease in her bangs. The moment Brynn caught her looking, the freak whipped around and sank lower—if that was even possible—into her chair. Cassidy only admitted to herself that the girl’s tresses were a pretty shade of pink.

  Brynn’s hair was pale and reminded her of cotton candy. As far as Cassidy remembered, Brynn had naturally tawny hair, but sometime over the summer, she’d changed it to the shade it was now. It suited her. The co
lor complimented her usual black clothing and added a hint of femininity to her otherwise hard-rock edge. It made her slightly more approachable.

  The truth was, Brynn Michaels scared the hell out of Cassidy. The way she walked around not caring about what people thought about her indicated that she was either entirely too confident or she had the emotional vacuity of a serial killer. She didn’t have any friends save for the reject sitting beside her, nor did she ever seem interested in making any. She never involved herself with school events or functions, and she shied away from anything involving sports. What could she be doing with all her spare time? She could be skinning animals and performing satanic rituals after school—a thought that made Cassidy shudder.

  As Mrs. Miller continued to rattle off partner assignments, several kids in the class mumbled unhappily while others squealed softly, no doubt because they’d been paired with someone they liked. Her friend Michelle had just gotten stuck with one of the leaders of the nerd-herd, Ryan Daniels. The kid was one pocket protector away from fulfilling the textbook definition of geekdom. He was a mathlete, the president of the Physics club, on the Chess team, and a junior member of one of the research groups that had recently discovered the Higgs boson particle. He had braces, glasses, and perfectly combed-over hair, which he used entirely too much gel on. The clothes he wore were straight out of a J. Crew catalog, complete with penny loafer shoes.

  Cassidy would take all that nerdiness over Brynn’s freakiness any day.

  When the teacher who had ruined her life in a matter of seconds finished playing social cupid, she began to read a chapter aloud to the class. Her voice fell back to a soft, almost inaudible pitch. Funny how the old bat could talk loudly enough to put her in her place but she couldn’t stay loud so everyone could actually hear what the hell she was reading. Cassidy flipped through the pages in her book, trying to find where Mrs. Miller was reading from. The boy next to her, Zach, leaned over and whispered, “Page 268.”