Family Magic Page 10

  Wow. I’d never seen that particular expression on her face before. Was she mad.

  “You will have more respect for your grandmother in my presence,” she was really angry, the most angry I’d ever seen her. Didn’t do much to disarm me either, because part of me knew she was right. Still, I wasn’t in the mood to be called on it.

  “I will when you admit you screwed up and stop trying to blame me all the time,” I shot back.

  “I’ve had about enough of you, young lady,” she snapped at me, eyes flashing, power building. So weird she lost control of her magic like that. I had a flash of real concern. Something about my mom felt foreign, like I was looking at someone wearing her body. The instant passed and good old Mom came back full force, so much so I doubted what I saw.

  “Don’t blame me your wards fell apart,” I said. “I was the one who stopped her from annihilating our block, remember? Geez, you’d think you’d be grateful or something.”

  “My wards did not just fall apart, thank you very much,” she flared back. “You’ve been dropping power all over the place lately and with your untrained abilities…”

  “I didn’t let her out!” I was shouting now. “I don’t know who did. But it wasn’t me.”

  “Fine,” Mom waved her hand at me, going back to study the door. “Enough, I don’t want to have this conversation tonight. Go to bed.”

  She dismissed me. Not just me physically, though. She dismissed my honesty, as though she didn’t believe me but didn’t have the time to tell me so. She didn’t trust me. Worse, she thought me capable of hurting my grandmother. It tore a huge rent inside I felt like a blow.

  All the frustration, all the anger and pent up emotion welled up in one huge ball of fury, filling in the gash like a flood of fire. I gathered my stuff to me and clenched my teeth against the desire to call my power and smash her with it. Even I had more control than that, although it would have served her right. She expected me to be a failure, didn’t she?

  I can only imagine the energy I emanated that turned her toward me.

  “Never again,” I snarled. “You can take care of it yourself the next time Gram escapes and decides to nuke the neighbors.”

  Her face hardened. “Go to bed. Right. Now.”

  I glared at her, anger changing to something cold and hard. The wall that crumbled between us the last few days repaired itself, growing taller and thicker with each passing second.

  I drew myself up and clutched my stuff with both hands, putting every ounce of my bitterness and contempt into my face.

  “Goodnight, Mother.” I said and walked away from her.

  Safe in the confines of my room, I threw a few choice pillows around to satisfy the burning rage I clutched to me like a blanket. Part of me worried she was right, maybe it was me that released Gram. But I knew in my heart I was innocent, despite the guilty verdict she already passed. Needless to say I had very little sleep and what I did get wasn’t restful.

  When I woke up the next morning for school, I was in very foul humor, so much so, in fact, I literally threw on the first pair of jeans and hoody I could find, threw my messy hair back into a pony tail and said good enough. The beauty brigade could kiss my ass.

  Whispers in the kitchen halted abruptly when I walked in. I felt the rolling fury start up at the sight of Erica hovering over my mom.

  Why couldn’t she mind her own damned business?

  I ignored both of them, rigid with control, back stiff as I pulled open the fridge door and grabbed my lunch. The contents rattled with the force of the motion.

  “Syd,” Erica started. “Can we–“

  I spun on her so fast I almost dropped the paper bag, boiling over.

  “How can you possibly imagine anything you can say to me will change what happened?”

  Erica stepped back, as if I was someone she didn’t recognize.

  “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”

  “Maybe if you were there,” I tried not to snarl at her, “which you weren’t, I’d like to hear your opinion. But since you weren’t,” I stressed it for the second time, just in case she decided to push it, “I couldn’t care less what you think.”

  “Syd!” Mom said, playing the outrage card. “Don’t speak to Erica like that. I asked her to talk to both of us. To mediate, since we seem to need help communicating these days.” She shot a grateful look at Erica who smiled back. “She’s trying to help.”

  I was so not in the mood for tag-team coven. This was classic in my family. Everything was dealt with in witch fashion, mediated, talked to death. I was sick of it and sick of them.

  “This is so typical of you,” I said to Mom, the boiling getting to a level that scared me. “Big bad witch, stronger than God, and you don’t have the courage to admit you were wrong. Mediate, sure, convince me it was my fault and clear your conscience, you mean.”

  Mom stepped forward, angry again. Erica took her arm, concerned, but my mom shook her off.

  “I was worried about Mother last night,” she said. “No matter what happened, I know if you were involved you would never have let her out on purpose.”

  Still in blame mode. Naturally. I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. “Really? Wow, you don’t know me at all!” The sarcasm hurt my own ears. “Didn’t you know? I let her out all the time, hoping she’ll do something horrible so we can move yet again and I can be the new girl one more time before I hit my senior year.” The kitchen vibrated with my contempt.

  “I think that’s about enough of that attitude, young lady,” Mom snapped back.

  This was not cooling our tempers, and Erica knew it.

  “Please, Syd,” she said. “This animosity is hurting both of you. You two need to work things out. Now. Before it gets blown even further out of proportion than it already has.”

  “Too late,” I muttered.

  Mom regained control of her temper and squared her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “But I was upset, worried about your grandmother. It doesn’t excuse me losing my temper,” she glanced at Erica and back to me, “and I am very sorry.”

  How nice.

  “For what,” I asked.

  “What?” She seemed genuinely confused.

  “What are you sorry for?” I was pushing her. I wanted her to say it for some reason, wanted her to put it into words, out in the world where we could both see it, examine it, feel it. I dug away at the open wound between us, making it bleed all over again.

  “For losing my temper,” she said. “I’ve apologized, Syd. I was wrong.”

  “You can’t even say it, can you?” I wanted to throw something at her but wasn’t willing to loosen my grip on the lunch bag. It felt like the ordinary weight and texture of it was the only thing holding me back. “Did you even tell Erica what you did?”

  Mom’s face stiffened, regret in her eyes. “Syd, honey, I never meant... I never meant to blame you and I should never have... have...”

  “Accused me?” I shouted at her. “You practically called me a liar! To my face!”

  “Syd,” she said. “I did no such thing.”

  “You didn’t believe me,” I snapped back. “You never believe me. I’m always guilty, even when I can prove I’m innocent.”

  “Maybe if you took a little responsibility now and then…” Mom faced me, anger rising once more.

  “I am so sick of that word,” I shook my head, choking out a bitter laugh. “You have no idea.”

  “Get used to it,” she answered. “It’s a grown up thing, and you’re almost there.”

  My rage cooled to a simmer. “This is going nowhere. I have to get to school.”

  I stormed for the door. Erica made a grab for me but I pushed her off and escaped the kitchen.

  Great start to a Wednesday.

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  The walk to school went a lot faster than normal, probably because I was so pumped up from the fight with Mom and Erica. I was still a ragi
ng bundle by the time I hit the steps. I didn’t even for a second think about what might be awaiting me care of Alison and company. In fact, I already decided to stop waiting for them to do to me, but to seek them out instead and get whatever was coming face to face. Much preferable to being stabbed in the back over and over again.

  I’m pretty sure my new aggressive nature scared the crap out of the entire school, not just the mean girls. I thought the other students scattered like frightened birds on Monday. Today was a whole new ball game and I was calling the plays.

  Each time I encountered one of Alison’s girls, instead of the punishment they planned, I had the satisfaction of seeing their sick little plot sputter and fail in their hands, unused, forgotten. I learned one thing very quickly–-these bullies only picked on those who were scared of them. Once the fear was reversed, they ran like rabbits.

  Points for me. And the aura driving in front of me like a battering ram. But I think it was more my attitude that did it. I didn’t hurt anyone or use my magic to cause havoc. Not only did it go against coven rules, but it went against my own feelings. No, I simply decided enough was enough. On that day, I didn’t care if they liked me or not but there was no way I was taking this crap lying down ever again.

  Talk about empowering.

  By the time I came across Alison in her office, the first floor bathroom, I had on a full head of steam. I pushed through the small crowd hanging around the door, knowing they waited there because of me. And I was right. When I entered the gloomy interior, Alison huddled deep in annoyed conversation with one of her cronies. The others around her seemed nervous. Alison glanced up from her hissing whispers. She didn’t even try to be civil.

  Not that I cared. Not hardly. Civil was totally out the window.

  I stopped in front of her, close enough to see it register in her colored-contact tinted blue eyes I had the nerve to not only confront her on her turf, but face her, fearless.

  “I’ve had enough,” I said, not trying to keep my voice down. “Your sick little games end here and now. Leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone.”

  Her face hardened.

  “Says who, Syd? You?” She forced a laugh and cast a look around her for support. I couldn’t care less if she had any but I think it really surprised her she was alone. The girls knew a losing battle when they saw one.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “Me. I’m done putting up with your crap.”

  “What do you plan to do about it? Cry to the principal?” She desperately tried to reel in some support. I felt some of her weaker followers sway.

  “No,” I answered very quietly. “But trust me, Alison. You do not ever want to piss me off. Ever.”

  “Don’t threaten me,” she snarled. “I own this school and I’ll do whatever I want to whoever I want. You won’t survive here if I say you won’t.”

  “Try me,” I said.

  “You don’t get it, do you, new girl?” She shook her head, fake concern on her face. “No one likes you. No one wants you here. Until you run home with your tail between your legs, I’m going to make your life at this school a living hell.”

  There. She actually said it. My whole body sighed, tension released. The stakes were on the table, finally.

  I decided to play my trump card. “Brad does.”

  It kind of bothered me to use him as a weapon but at that point I was willing to access all the advantages I had. I was new to this standing up for myself thing, after all. I figured I’d get better at it eventually.

  Besides, it might turn around and blow up in my face.

  It didn’t.

  “Brad is mine!” She shrieked, reaching out with French manicured claws like she wanted to tear my eyes out. “Stay away from him!”

  How pathetic. I saw it so clearly in that moment, the desperate need for attention, the total and utter fear she had of being ignored, of not being noticed, not being the center of everything. The terror of loss of control, of being seen as weak or unworthy, of not being liked and accepted sat at the core of what Alison was.

  How very sad.

  The hard, heavy part of me that hated her and every bully like her softened.

  “Wow,” I whispered. “I’m really sorry.” I meant it.

  She froze, floored. “For what?” She snapped.

  “For whatever it is that happened to you that made you this way,” I answered.

  Alison hissed an intake of breath. Her face turned sheet white. I saw the rage rise within her.

  “I am lead cheerleader,” she snarled at me, “and my boyfriend is the captain of the football team. My parents are so rich they could buy you ten times over. I have everything. I am everything. You feel sorry for me? You are the loser.”

  My anger drained away. The last of the hate let go in a rush leaving me empty except for pity. I know she saw it in my face. I think that made her madder than anything.

  “You have a lot of issues. You should try talking to someone about them before they eat you up, Alison.”

  I heard laughter from those gathered behind me, but I didn’t feel good about it. I knew I was right. She was hurt, hurting so much she needed to lash out at people to make herself feel strong.

  And I thought I had problems.

  This time, I saw the leeching aura as she tried to draw power from those around her. Not magic, not exactly. Just the normal dominance grab of leader to followers.

  Nothing happened and she felt it.

  “Get out!” She tried for bitch but barely made it to annoying. “Leave me alone!”

  She lost and she knew it. I know everyone else in the room knew it, smelled the blood in the water. For the first time for as long as I could remember, the blood wasn’t mine.

  I ignored her order and stood there, putting all my sympathy in my face, my eyes, my stance. I even reached out toward her.

  “Did you want to talk about it?” I asked her.

  I thought her head would explode. I’ve never seen anyone turn that red and white so quickly. It didn’t help most of the room now laughed at her. Her face collapsed in on itself and, before she fled, I saw the tears start to spill over her cheeks.

  It took me a minute to register the applause. I ignored it and left the bathroom.

  As I took my seat in first period I tried to understand what I was feeling. I was supposed to be the winner, here. At least that was the impression I had from the cheers and air fives I accepted in a daze from my fellow classmates. I was supposed to be happy, proud of my victory, right?

  So how come I felt like I was the bully now?

  I avoided the attempts of my fellow students to congratulate me and practically ran to my next class so I didn’t have to talk to anyone. I hoped word hadn’t spread yet, but the same friendly stares, the same thumbs up kept coming from everyone I met.

  Why had everything changed? Why did everyone in the school now want to be my friend? Was I really the first person to stand up to Alison Morgan and get away with it?

  Wow, these kids needed to get a life.

  I avoided or rebuffed every friendly advance that came my way all morning, getting madder and madder about the whole thing. How dare they think they could be my friends? Where were they when I needed support? Forget them and the horse they rode in on. The whole lone ranger Syd thing started to be pretty appealing.

  The worst was the speculative look from Quaid. I stopped in the hall, facing him square on, the top of my head barely reaching his chin. He stared back at me, flat and unimpressed, but there was a softening in his face I hadn’t seen there before. My demon purred her happiness and reached for him while my anger slapped her back, refusing to give in so easily.

  “Well?” I snapped at him.

  “Impressive,” he said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  If the bell hadn’t rung, I would have hit him.

  Lunch was fun. Not. No, I did not want to sit at the popular table. No, I wasn’t interested in talking about what happened. No, you cannot buy me lunch. Thanks but no than
ks!

  I didn’t see Alison anywhere, and yes, I looked. Not to be vindictive, seriously. I felt awful about tearing her down in public like that. The bad guys acted that way, not the good guys. I caught Brad’s eyes and wished I hadn’t. He seemed pretty mad. But was he mad at me? I didn’t want to find out.

  I sat in the corner of the cafeteria at a busted table no one used because it was so wobbly. It took a bit of balance to use it but I ate at it a few times before and had the hang of it.

  I toyed with my sandwich, trying to decide if I could tolerate anything in my stomach right then when a pair of beat-up sneakers came to a halt inside my peripheral vision. I looked up at the smallest high school student I had ever seen.

  And yes, as luck would have it, he was a guy.

  He held his industrial orange tray in his slightly shaking hands. I noticed each and every fingernail was bitten so close they all bled at one time or another. I watched with appalled fascination as the top of his green Jell-O wobbled with his trembling. His backpack, fully loaded, slipped slowly down his shoulder, pulling his sci-fi T-shirt crooked. He blinked at me through thick glasses, little feet shuffling in those scuffed sneakers.

  “Hi,” he said, snuffling a little, struggling to keep his tray upright while the backpack that weighed more than he did bent him to the right.

  I reached out, not thinking, and took the pack from him before he dropped his tray. I guess he took it as an invitation.

  He slipped onto the bench across from me, making the table wobble dangerously. He flashed me a nervous smile as everything settled again.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Clumsy.”

  “Syd, nice to meet you,” I answered. I don’t know if I was really trying to be funny but he thought I was.

  His laugh was way too high-pitched for comfort as he wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses, rabbit like.

  “Sorry, not what I meant,” he offered me his hand. Who did that? “I’m Simon. Nice to meet you too, Syd.”

  Not that I had anything against Simon, but this had gone far enough. I was the lone wolf, now, no friends, no interest. Goodbye was on my lips when I was surrounded and my table filled up.