When I thoughtlessly commented how there’d be many a disappointed female party goer over the missed opportunity, I turned lava shades of red. Apparently, trying to be normal leads to excessive amounts of foot-in-mouth syndrome.
Everything was starting to feel somewhat manageable, until Nolan, Felix and I walked into U.S. History, and there she was-- pure evil in Prada with innocent doe eyes and a knowing smile.
I’d call her a spawn of Satan but that would be an insult to Satan… and apparently, Donovan.Right. Still need to figure out how Hell works.
When we saw her, I expected Nolan to shift into the version of himself I saw when I met Gina for the first time or with that dumbass at the party Saturday. A form of himself that infuses his natural feline grace with something both alluring and terrifying-- something that promises pain a person will keep begging for. But his eyes were empty, as if he’d crawled into himself where no one could reach, and he walked straight to his desk. Felix and I quickly following him.
At first, Felix took Connor’s empty seat behind Nolan, but he made it only through attendance, before he was up trying to do anything he could to get at least some small form of vengeance, since she couldn’t see or do anything to him.
“I’m surprised she can even feel the cold,” Felix comments loud enough to be heard over Mr. Bendtner droning on about Manifest Destiny, while now simply standing through Gina. “Mr. Freeze has more warmth and compassion than her.”
I glance over at Nolan, looking for his response to Felix haunting Gina, and find him staring down at his notebook, an unmoving pencil in his hand. His brows are furrowed, his lips pressed tight, and his shoulders stooped-- reminding me of a lit candle fighting against a howling wind trying to blow it out. He’s physically here, but what makes him the boy I know is tucked in tight, braced for attacks that I don’t understand-- only that Gina is the cause of his feelings.
Quickly, I jot down a note asking if he’s okay and place it on his desk while the teacher isn’t looking.
Nolan stares at it for a moment, like it’s taking real effort to understand what it means, then writes a response, and offers up a tight smile when he hands it back.
I’m fine. Just tired,is written in small compact letters under my message.
Tired of Gina’s bullshit is more like it.
Witnessing how affected Nolan is, ‘Old Callie’ comes back in force, and my necklace burns hot between my breasts. My old icy walls climb high, surrounded by sharpened spears ready to eviscerate any that should get near, and I feel my magic surging-- but not like before.
With the tree, thunderstorm, wind, and fire, it was explosive and overwhelming. It came from a place of shattering emotion, like being sucked into a riptide that kept pulling me under with no escape until the magic was spent. This feels like a cool detachment that’s ready to lay waste-- building inside me and focused for destruction. Not in my control, but ready to follow my will.
The classroom and everyone in it begins to fade from my sight, turning into a soft blur of color and the sounds into a white noise.
My heartbeat slows to heavy, even thumps in my chest. I stare at the bug that has already caused so much pain-- her beauty hiding the rottenness inside-- and hear Kaleb’s words echoing in my ear, “If not us, then who?... What does that cunne have to do, before it’s too much? Before she goes too far.”
My aunt’s damning words follow,“With one look, you can see the measure of a person-- the core of who they are and what motivates them, and with that knowledge, you can elevate them or destroy them.”
Slowly, I reach for my necklace and clutch the stone through my shirt. It’s white hot-- feeling like I’ve placed my hand directly on a lit stove-- and I know it’s all that holds my magic at bay. I don’t cry out, welcoming the pain. A familiar feeling to a fractured girl.
I’m jolted back to myself when a gentle hand runs along my hair to my shoulder, my name a soft whisper in my ear, and my emotions flood through the ruptured ice walls-- fear and panic leading the wave.What the hell was that!?
Wide eyed, I turn to Nolan and find a mixture of guilt and concern reflected back in his arctic blue eyes. Around me the class is silent-- all looking at me like the crazy person I’m rumored to be.If they only knew how much worse the truth was compared to Gina’s pathetic lies.
“Callie, you’re wanted in the office,” Mr. Bendtner says, for what sounds like not the first time. Standing beside him is a student that’s clearly an office aide this period with a yellow paper in his hand.
I offer up a jerky nod, indicating I heard him this time, and awkwardly gather my things.
“I’ll go with her,” Felix informs Nolan, having appeared next to me somewhere in the cold moments of me losing my mind-- again.
My hand stings as it’s healing the welt from my necklace, along with the matching one on my chest. I do my best to hide it from my face, giving Nolan a tight smile, and head toward the front of the class.
The office aide gives me a weird look, like he’s figured something out and is disconcerted by it. I take the slip of paper from his hand, and on it, along with my name and classroom, is a checked box next to the word “counselor” and the barely legible handwritten nameMrs. Cartwright.
Looks like they found the pamphlets.
There’s a perverse level of irony that I’m off to talk to a school counselor about the lies that have been spread about me that I’m suicidal, while unable to share what I’m really feeling-- that my sanity is a fragile thing that can at any moment slip through my fingers. And there’s a real possibility of blowing up the entire town if it does.
“It’s going to be okay,” Felix whispers, at the same time as Gina flashes me an all too pleased with herself smile.
Is this just the prank from earlier, or does she have something else up her sleeve?
Paranoia sets in, because as much as I hate to admit it, Gina is many things, but stupid isn’t one of them. Now my heart beats loud in my ears, and I feel jittery, like I want to crawl out of my skin.
It isn’t until Felix and I are alone in the hallway walking toward the office that I murmur back, “I’ve a sinking feeling it’s going to get worse, before it gets better. Kind of the story of my life.”
