Magick (The Unwanted Series Book 1) (2 page)

Lucy blushes.

Mr. Brandt has us sit in order by last name, so naturally I’m in the back of the room. I like being in the back, out of the spotlight, with no eyes staring at the back of my head.

Mr. Brandt announces that as seniors we are required to attend the morning assembly, and we are to demonstrate the best that the school has to offer, which in code means to be less goofy — especially the boys — and to be quiet. We head to the auditorium, and I sit next to Daniel.

Headmaster Chin starts with welcoming the new freshmen and talks about the new open wing of the technology center. She reviews the academic code of the school, and the rules of conduct. All the same stuff we regularly hear each year.

Walking out of the auditorium, we run into snobby, beyond-vain Coral, Daniel’s ex-girlfriend, as she waits with some of her cronies. Cue the fake smile as she says hello to Daniel, while throwing visual daggers at me.

Ugh.

I don’t like that Daniel is still friendly to her, but I try hard not to give Coral the satisfaction of showing it. I turn away from her while he continues to talk to her, still holding my hand. She laughs, which sounded more like a cackle. I almost puke. Emily hooks my elbow, quickly turning me around and detaching me from Daniel.

Emily sings, “We’re off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.” We skip forward. It seems perfect, since the wicked witch hovers behind us with Daniel.

In the hallway, the bell rings to usher us all to our first-period classes. I have Advanced English without my friends and walk away, spying Coral hugging Daniel. She stares right at me with a smug look. A little nosebleed would indeed perfect her airbrushed makeup. I huff and turn down the hall toward class.

I have third-period lunch and spy Marco, at an empty round table. I plop down next to him with my tray.

“So, we’ve got the same lunch period.”

“Yeah, well, us brainiacs, ya know? Speaking of, where is Lucy? Isn’t she in this lunch period?”

I look around, and the cafeteria is buzzing, but no one new is entering. “She does. Maybe she ate and left already?”

Marco shrugs and takes a big swig of his drink.

“How are your classes so far?” I ask, while stabbing my fork through my salad.

“Good. It’s going to be fluff year, except for Mrs. Simpson’s organic chem.”

“Ugh, I know. I have that with you next class.” I roll my eyes.

He laughs his easy way. Marco has a charisma that most guys want, he’s dialed into school and I don’t think he get roused up easily. Emily started to crush on him over the summer, which has resulted in some exciting flirting.

“So what about…”

He interrupts me. “Nope not talking about Emily, okay? It’s all casual, and I’ve got enough on my plate.” He laughs to himself and shakes his head.

I smile and finished off my salad and iced Green Tea. “Want to head over? Mrs. Simpson awaits to torture us with chemical madness.”

We walk out of the cafeteria and down the hall. I look around for Lucy but don’t see her. Instead, Coral’s cronies are huddled around some poor underclassmen, laughing and teasing her.

Marco catches their eye and winks at them. They smile and walk toward us. The girl slips away from continued torture as the bell rings.

I whisper to Marco, “Nice job. I’ll save you a seat.” I leave just in time, as he’s flanked by Team Bleach Blonde.

Marco has just slid into the class when the final bell rings, grabbing the seat I saved him at the lab top bench.

“Cutting it close, Marco,” Mrs. Simpson says.

“Oh, what I do, to save those in need,” Marco says under his breath and grins.

Mrs. Simpson takes command of the class and starts in with a baseline quiz.

“Does this woman have no heart?” Marco asks.

“It doesn’t count for anything, just placement, she said.” Although I sympathize with Marco. Who gives a quiz on day one? Oh right, Mrs. Simpson does.

The bell rings, and I’m off to the technology center. I walk as quickly as I can past the plaque that says “Warrington Hall.” It’s hard to be anonymous when your name is everywhere.

At the end of sixth period, the last class of the day, I meet up with Emily and Lucy at our lockers. We’ve had the same lockers since freshman year, so it’s our central hub. Emily is laughing, but Lucy looks upset.

“What up?” I open my locker to put in all the new textbooks I’ve been lugging around.

“You’re gonna love it,” Emily squees with joy in an octave as high as a little girl. She bounces up and down.

I laugh. “Oh, goody. Something happen to Coral?”

Emily nods.

“Wait, what?”

Lucy, behind Emily, looks solemn compared to Emily’s obvious excitement; whatever it is, it must be bad.

“Whoa, calm down Em. What happened?” I ask quietly. There are a few people looking over our way.

“Aw, well, it was epic! So, after assembly, I had World History with her, and she had this nosebleed. Nothing big, but like, it wouldn’t stop. Tissue after tissue. She was wiping away her makeup with it, blood and foundation mixed up, so gross. It got everywhere, and Ms. Johnston, old bottle glasses, was like blind to it. She told Coral to get a little princess grip and deal until after class, to see the nurse. It was hilarious; the extravagant fit Coral was throwing. Then Lucy came in at the bell, and Coral ran into her and SPLAT! Coral, face-down, nose busted! Her skirt up over her ass.” Emily is wide-eyed and giggling.

“I think she chipped a tooth,” Lucy says. “I was sent from the library, during my free period, to deliver a few books Ms. Johnston wanted. I feel horrible.”

“Whatevs, you shouldn’t. It was an accident. Coral is as mean as a rattlesnake. Happy to see she bleeds like the rest of us.”

I can’t believe it. She got a nosebleed. Karma is on my side. I grin at my friends. “Did she go home?”

“Coast is clear. No more Coral sightings,” Emily says. “This is gonna be a great year; I can feel it!”

Lucy’s eyes are cast down to the ground as we exit the school. My phone sounds with a text from Daniel; he has football practice and will call me later. I beam, getting into Lucy’s car.

I try to reassure Lucy in the driveway at my house, but her mood stays the same. She turns up her stereo and heads back down the driveway. She must be worried about a Coral repercussion. She’s famous for them. Strangely, I’m not worried. Bring it.

Chapter Three

I
t’s only three in the afternoon, and I have an hour and a half before my appointment with Dr. Evan. So like most well-adjusted academic kids, I decide to goof off and get a snack and watch some TV. Duke and I take our usual spot in the living room. I’m sipping on my Coke and noshing on kettle chips when I hear the back door. Duke perks up and then lays back down on my feet.

“Mrs. Scott?”

I get up to help her and see Chef is with her, carrying in some bags as well. “What’s going on?”

“Special dinner tonight. Didn’t I tell you that this morning?” Mrs. Scott is putting items away in the pantry. Her hair is messy and she is looking and counting items franticly.

“No. I don’t remember, who is coming over?”

“It’s a family dinner meeting of some sort; your father has requested you join.”

“I have my doctor’s appointment until 6, and was hoping to hang out with Daniel later,” I whine.

Gah, let me get out of this.

I leave shortly after trying to get more information out of Mrs. Scott, which reveals nothing, because she doesn’t know anything more. I’m hung on the word family. It’s just me and my father, but family sounds intriguing.

I hit the button to sound that I’m at the door of Dr. Evan’s office. The receptionist isn’t at her desk to see me through the glass door and let me in. Instead, Dr. Evan walks over and hits the button himself.

“Sorry about that. Heather is out sick today,” he says. A couple smiling and holding hands walk out as I walk in, his previous clients. Wow, couples’ counseling and they are smiling? Okay, maybe Dr. Evan isn’t a quack after all.

The office is quiet as I follow him to the end of the hallway where his office is. He opens the door and gestures me to the chaise lounge, then goes to his desk to retrieve a notebook and pen. I see he has several files on his desk, and he closes one. It’s not like I can see it from here.

“So, how was the first day of senior year?” he asks.

“It was good. Typical, and a little bit of karma for a girl who needs it.”

“How so? Why do you say this girl needs it?”

I smile. I shouldn’t have opened with that. Counselors and their probing questions can’t just let a dog lie. “This girl, Coral. Well, she’s a bitch, and she’s Daniel’s ex-girlfriend. She’s nasty to everyone, sits on a high throne. She got knocked down a peg today with an accident. What’s interesting is I was thinking about this accident, and karma delivered it, so yeah universe!” I pump my arm and laugh.

He leans forward, looking more serious than before. “So, you thought of what should happen, and it did?”

Ice breaking playtime over.

“Kinda.” I tuck my legs under so I’m sitting cross-legged on the chaise.

“I just saw her hugging Daniel, and she was giving me this look… so I briefly thought ‘nosebleed.’ An innocuous thought, right?”

“A nosebleed?”

“Well, the way my friend described it, it wasn’t a simple nosebleed. She ran out of class, then ran into another person and fell, possibly chipped a tooth in the process.”

Why was I feeling bad all of a sudden? I shook my head to clear it.

“Coral had a rough day, by the sound of it.” Evan’s lips curve upward.

I nod.

“Tell me, were you happy about Coral’s accident? It’s interesting that you thought it and it happened.”

Where is this going? “It’s a coincidence. Coral isn’t just mean to me and my friends. She and her crew are nasty to everyone. Everyone is beneath her. I hate that.”

“It’s interesting that sometimes your coincidences are a trending thing. In Dr. Bauche’s notes, you wanted to hurt the boy who attacked you. You wanted to break his arm and throw him backward. It all happened, and then the fire was something you envisioned as well.”

“No, no, that’s completely different. I was overwhelmed with adrenaline, and I was able to break free. I can’t help it that his arm broke. It was at a funny angle, I’m guessing the way I turned put pressure on it and broke it. The fire… that wasn’t me at all! There were trashcans around that were burning. I was in a bad part of town and it… there were homeless around. I think someone helped me.”

“Why were you in Boston, Willow?”

“I got turned around. We just moved to Chepstow, and I was there with Mrs. Scott shopping. We were going to meet up at this one store. I dunno, it was all just messed up.” I stammered.

“Do you blame Mrs. Scott?”

I untuck my legs and stand. “No! Why would you say that?”

“She wasn’t there to help you when you needed her.” Dr. Evan stands up and places his notebook on the desk, then ushers me back to the chaise. “I’m simply curious as to your thoughts on this. How you ended up alone. How you ended up in that alley. How you got away relatively unharmed, but your attacker was hospitalized with multiple injuries.”

“My thoughts? My thoughts?! I tell you what, that jackoff was telling the court he was trying to help me when I attacked him! He has a record of assault and molestation, and he was blackmailing my father with his lies.” I’m breathing faster. I know that if I don’t get control, the tears will fall.

Breathe, Willow. Breathe.

“I don’t want to get into this. It’s over. Why can’t the past be the past, and we just move onward?” I wrap my arms around myself and lean back into the chaise, closing my eyes.

“The why is that you refuse to acknowledge the past and how it affects who you are. You block it, as a self-protection mechanism, even though it’s not protecting you at all.”

“I don’t know what you mean”

Dr. Evan pushes his hand through his hair. “Willow, your accident with your mother. You blame yourself, when by all accounts of the car accident, it was purely an accident in which you survived and your mother did not. In fact, she most likely saved you by getting you out of that car. You blame yourself for the attack in the alley, and how your father came to your aid through the legal system with the plea deal to make it all go away. Again, it was not your fault. You protected yourself and got carried away at the closed proceedings that prompted this therapy.” He points back and forth between us. “Your blame is misplaced, and you will have hard situations coming your way that you will need to be able to navigate through without self-sabotage. This is why regressive therapy is a good option, but you have to be open to it.”

My collar is wet. I touch my cheek, and my face is wet. Shit, I’m crying.

“You’re angry, and rightly so. You need to be able to release this anger and not implode.”

That’s a first. Dr. Bauche wanted me to adjust the focus on the positive, the future, blah blah blah. Dr. Evan the past?

“What, like join martial arts or something?” I shrug.

“Sure, or something.” Dr. Evan’s eyes shimmer.

I look away because I don’t want to acknowledge him, sitting casually in the chair across from the chaise.

“Willow?” He smiles. “You’re more capable than you know. Deep down, you have… a magick inside you that you’ve tucked away. That needs release. It’s a connection to who you are and what you are capable of.”

Dr. Evan is now sitting next to me.

“What, like yin and yang?”

He nods. “How about we get started this session. Are you open to this?”

I scoot back so my back is flush with the chaise. “I dunno. I have to be back for a family dinner thing. Will this be longer than our scheduled time?” I look at the small clock on the side table next to his chair and see I have less than half an hour left.

Dr. Evan’s face changes. It’s unreadable. He no longer looks sympathetic. Now he looks more stoned over and a bit angry. Why does it matter to me if he’s angry?

“What do I have to do?” I look down at my feet.

“You need to be open-minded and allow me to put you under hypnosis. Your subconscious will walk you through the past for you to understand those events better.”