“Me? Religious?” Donovan snorts, glancing down at me. “Nephilim aren’t ‘religious’,” he informs me with a finger quote. “As far as the Bible or whatever goes, those texts were written by humans to try and explain all the crap they couldn’t understand-- still can’t, really.”
He sighs. ”No, I have to do all the church bullshit, because Kaleb’s parents are pastors as their cover in the human world. Listening to Keziah mutter about the ridiculousness of humans as she writes her sermons nearly makes it worth it, though.” Then he shakes his head. “No it doesn’t, but it’s still funny.”
∞∞∞
I look up at the white clock on the wall and release a slow breath.Ten more minutes. Ten minutes, and this stupid day ends.
Today’s assignment for my Food and Nutrition class is a kitchen equipment scavenger hunt that requires us to not only identify and describe different pieces of equipment around the classroom, but we also have to draw a picture of it. I suck at drawing. Stick figures look like great works of art compared to my pathetic attempts to illustrate mixers and can openers.
As if spending the past hour highlighting my inept artistic abilities wasn’t bad enough, Gina and her pack of Barbie clones have spent the entire class period looking over at me, whispering to each other, gasping, then whispering to other students-- who then look at me and whisper to someone else.I will NOT let her get to me. People talking shit about me isn’t new-- just the first time it’s affected more than me.
Even though this is an individual assignment, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Gina and her worshipers coming over to my side of the classroom, where I’m trying to draw something that I hope Ms. Brooks will believe is a measuring cup.
Keeping my eyes focused on my paper, I fight the tremors building in my hands, when I feel Gina come up behind me. Just being in the same room with her puts me on edge, but with her this close, my skin crawls like the rot that lives inside her is spilling into me.I wonder if this is what my aunt meant about me being able to see the core of a person.
“You must be really fucked up if the council had to bind your magic,” she says without preamble, apparently not giving a shit that we’re in a classroom full of humans. “What’d you do? Go insane when mommy and daddy realized what a pathetic freak they made?”
The Barbies giggle, and I roll my eyes.Really? That’s the best she has.
“No, I know,” she whispers, mock sympathy infusing her voice. “Did daddy touch you in your naughty places? Explains the rumors I keep hearing.” She makes a tsking sound, like it isn’t her spreading the rumors in the first place. “You should really see someone about all that-- self-harm isn’t the answer.”
The mechanical pencil in my hand cracks from how hard I’m holding it, and every muscle in my body tenses to stone. My necklace goes from warm to hot, as I do everything in my power not to punch this bitch in her pretty little nose.She wants to make you mad. Don’t let her get to you.
Gina flips back her waist-length black hair, the strands hanging lose around her tall, waif-like figure, when she looks over at the Barbies. “No response. Must be true.”
They gasp theatrically with murmurs of “Oh my God” and “How sad.”
She then leans against the stainless steel table I’m sitting at and crosses her arms, her perfectly manicured nails splayed to advantage against her tiny biceps. “Doesn’t really matter why they did, though, does it? I mean you’re walking around all innocent, but any minute you could blow up the entire town.”
She purses her pouty lips, when she still doesn’t get a reaction out of me-- too dumb to realize she should be fucking grateful. Then a sneer spreads across her face, her hair stirs as if a sudden soft breeze made its way through the classroom, and she hisses, “You should justkill yourself… before someone has to put you down like the rabid dog you are.”
It’s the wind that gives her away. My necklace cools and the building rage inside dissipates, as I realize how insignificant she really is. She’s like an annoying flea. Given the ability, she can bite and irritate, but in the end, she’s easy to squash.
There’s victory in her big doe-like, brown eyes when I look up at her, but her face quickly falls to a scowl when I start laughing.
“Did you just try to cast a spell on me?” I snort, putting my pencil down so I can cross my arms. “Wow that was really-- pathetic.”
For the first time since learning what the fuck I am, I relish the power that’s my birthright. I mock her gestures with a hair flip of my own-- appreciating how obnoxiously shiny it is thanks to all the magic coursing through me.
With feigned concern, I offer, “Some advice from one witch to another-- well, you’re technically a witch anyway. Don’t fuck with someone that’s stronger than you are in every way. I literally walk around shedding more magic than you could possibly possess.” I glance over my shoulder at the Barbies. “More than all of you put together, and one way or another--” An ugly grin twists across my lips. “My magic won’t be bound forever.”
The Barbies go silent, and Gina’s eyes fractionally widen with fear, before an angry flush spreads across her olive skin.
“I don’t care how strong you think you are,” she snarls, her splayed fingers curling to claws. “This is your final warning. Stay away from Nolan, or I’ll make your life a living hell. He’s mine, and he doesn’t need some insane slut hanging all over him.”
I resist making a crack that she pretty much fills Nolan’s insane slut quota, and instead reply, “I’m quaking in my skinny jeans, mudblood.”
“What did you just call me?” she hisses, when a couple of the Barbies cough trying to cover up their laughter.
“Seriously? Read a book,” I retort, then roll my eyes. “First, you can’t even comprehend what a true living hell is, and pray to whoever will listen to your horribly screechy voice that you never do. Second, just stop. Desperation is not a good look, and I hate to break the news to you but--” I stage whisper behind my hand, “He’s just not that into you.”
The closest I could get to a mic drop happens when the bell rings. Under the commotion of students quickly putting their stuff away, Ms. Brooks asks the class to leave our worksheets on her desk on our way out.
Gina grits her teeth so hard, if she’s not careful, she’ll chip one of her fancy veneers. Before walking away, she growls in my ear, “It’s on, bitch.”
I flash her a smile so wide that I’m pretty sure every one of my teeth are visible. “Bring it.”
Chapter 5
