Page 24 of Spelling Disaster

She lacks the persona of Amy, the outright cheerleader kind of bubbly, but there’s something real about her. Something with a little more depth than a simple bubbly attitude.

The girl takes three steps over and thrusts her arm out, palm extended, for a handshake. “I’m Blaire. It’s goodtameetcha.” All one word. Just like that. “I’d say I’m overjoyed but as you can tell from looking at me, I’m pretty much turned up to eleven all the time. You’ll get used to it. If not, then you’ll have to find other living arrangements, I’m afraid. I am what I am and who I am.”

I shake her hand, her grip firm. Blaire might be super scary to behold, a vision in pink, but something about her has me feeling like I might have made my first friend in this place.

“I can appreciate that. I’m Yasmine. It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say.

This vision in pink, this boy-band lover and pop princess…she should overwhelm me.

For some reason, it’s easier to look at her than it was with Amy, and my smile is genuine for the first time today.

“I’m sure, since you probably registered with Gladys, you were given the spiel about how you’re going to like it here.” Blaire drops onto her own bed with a small grunt, her skirt fluffing out around her like tiered icing on a cupcake. “I won’t lie to you. It’s a typical campus in some ways and not in others. You’ve probably already had your welcome to the misfit house.”

I lift Gus to my cheek to nuzzle him. “Oh, yes. In the form of a dude walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel.”

Blaire rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky most of them wear towels instead of using their air magic to dry. Anyway, I promise I’ll give you a real tour of this place tomorrow. Help you get settled in. Let me guess.” Her lips purse. “Amy told you that you’ll settle in just fine and pointed out the sights like a tour guide at Disney World? This is all wonder and magic and blah blah.”

I cock my head at the term, knowing literally nothing about Disney World except that people love it. “She showed me to the dorm, yeah, and pointed out some sights on the way,” I reply.

“As much as you look at me and thinkextrovert, this place is not the cozy ride Amy likes to make it out to be. She schmoozes the prospective students and is even worse with the recently accepted.” Blaire points to her chest. “Stick with me, Yazzy. You’ll be all right.”

Funny thing is, I actually believe her, and the belief is strong enough to push aside my earlier reservations. If all the outcasts are like Blaire…then maybe I won’t mind being one as well.

ChapterEight

Isleep like shit and my alarm takes me out of a nightmare where I’m racing through the library, on fire, and no one hears me screeching for help.Gee, I wonder where that one came from?

Except when I open my eyes, it isn’t flames I see but bright sunlight shifting through cotton-candy pink blinds and a blurry Blaire on the other side of the room with headphones over her ears.

She’s already dressed and ready, leaning back in the chair in front of her desk and bobbing her foot along to whatever music she’s listening to. Probably one of the bands on the thousands of posters in our room.

How easy will it be to tug my sheets over my head and go back to sleep? Not that I really feel like sleeping after those night terrors, sweat still beading along my skin and making my clothes stick to me.

Blaire flicks her gaze at me when I force myself out of bed and lifts an eyebrow in my direction. “Better get ready,” she says.

I nod and grab my shower caddy from my dresser, all purchased by the coven. Gus snoozes on my pillow right next to the indentation where my head had been.

The first day of classes are always stressful. I’ve heard enough stories from people detailing theirs, including Remi, who always wants to impress on me how horrible school is for her.

I thought maybe experiencing it myself would be different.

Why?

Ridiculously misplaced optimism.

I’m coming in blind and I’m coming in after the semester has already started, so my first day of class is nothing but one mistake after another. My schedule was indeed in the folder Gladys handed out, and although I make it to my first class in time, there’s only one seat left in the back of the room underneath a perpetually drafty window.

In my next class, I sit in the wrong seat, apparently, only to be called out by several students who already claimed the space for their friends.

I trip over the flat floor in one of the classrooms, prompting enough laughter from my peers to curdle my stomach. The skirt is already a little tight around the hip area and the shirt too loose where my breasts should be. One look in the mirror this morning showed me my pale cheeks and dark circles under my eyes.

Everyone watches me take a seat and miss the actual seat by about three inches, dropping right onto my ass with my legs open and flashing my underpants for the world to see.

Clumsy.

Embarrassed and clumsy, and now red-faced.

Especially when I’m busy jumping at shadows. Any small movement out of the corner of my eye has me remembering fog through a forest. Which is absolutely crazy because the Horned God and his magic hasn’t followed me here.

---