Page 8 of If The Shoe Fits

That’s like calling a cat a dog just because it’s fluffy and has pointy ears.

I plaster on my best teacher smile and set about trying to salvage the day.

But as I make my way through the hallways, I hear it whispered.

Wicked Witch.

A few brave souls even laugh. One particularly bold student shouts it outright as I pass, which earns them my patented disappointed glare.

You know the one—it’s the same look your mom gives when you ruin Thanksgiving dinner by mentioning Aunt Kathy’s third divorce.

By the time I make it to Friday, I’m cautiously optimistic that the chaos has settled.

The graffiti has been scrubbed off (thank you, enchanted cleaning spells), the whispers have mostly died down, and I dare to hope that Cyndi’s found a new hobby.

Like knitting or summoning imps.

But no. Of course not.

As I’m jotting down homework on the magic board, something catches my eye. Floating lazily in my mug of tea is a fat tadpole.

A tadpole.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for amphibian rights, but I draw the line at one swimming in my Earl Grey.

I stare at the mug, trying to decide what’s worse, the tadpole itself or the fact that I took a sip before I noticed it.

Spoiler alert—it’s a tie.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“Really, Cyndi?” I mutter under my breath.

She’s not there, of course, but I hope the universe delivers my exasperation directly to her obnoxiously flawless ears.

Because one thing’s for sure. This is far from over.

“That’s it! You all have the weekend to get this little bout of teen angst out of your systems. Anymore nonsense and you will ALL be held after class for detention starting Monday!” I shout to the surly students filling my classroom.

They are still moaning about weekend work.

But it’s dismissal and I don’t have to deal with them anymore for the time being.

Thank the Goddess.

I’m not happy about any of this. Punishing students. Giving extra work.

Poor Bethany is near to tears as she walks after her brother, and I feel bad for yelling at everyone.

Especially when I know there is only one person behind this whole thing.

Cyndi.

Why she hates me so, I have no idea.

I spend too much time on it as it is, and later into the night I am still thinking about it.

No student has ever gotten under my skin like this. Even my magic is misbehaving.

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