Page 95 of Magical Academy for Delinquents
Z tossed Malcolm his boxers. Malcolm dragged them on and sat back down. The two of them started playing a new round of the game like nothing had happened. Other than the occasional snicker, the guys seemed fine.
I shook my head. If some girl had pulled shit like that with me, she’d be on my ‘hate forever’—bitch talk her and try to curse her children—blacklist. But dudes razzing each other was like a bonding ritual. Guys were fucked in the head. Except … maybe so was I. Because there was one guy I liked to taunt.
I glanced back to see them all playing, bursting into occasional laughter. All but one. He sat and played. But he wasn’t quite as loud as the others. Not quite as boisterous.
I reached into my bag and grabbed my wand. I knew how to fix that. And it only took one little level six spell.
Two minutes later, Malcolm trounced everyone. Just as he was sitting back to enjoy his victory, Gray said, “Just wait—BOOBIES!”
Everyone stared at him a second, and then cracked up. Including me. I didn’t even try to be subtle as Gray turned in his seat, rising onto his knees to peer at me over the back of the chair. He shook his head at me. “You unoriginal—FAT BUTT NUT!—What the hell? You—BROCCOLI BREATH!—gave me—DUMP TRUCK!—Tourette’s?”
My ribs hurt from laughing so hard. “Not just any kind. Toddler Tourette’s.”
“Eat sh—I HOPE GUMMY BEARS PEE IN YOUR HAIR!” Gray started laughing. He thumped the seat back with his fist.
I just smirked, wagging a finger at him. “Now you know a little about what that Shakespeare spell felt like.”
Evan wheezed after laughing so hard. “Gummy bear pee! That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Neither does your—YOU LOOK LIKE YOU CAME FROM THE DONATION PILE!”
That one even brought tears to Malcolm’s eyes.
Gray pushed off of his seat and grabbed his bag from the floor. He jabbed a threatening finger in my direction but didn’t dare open his mouth. I just gave him my signature finger wave, one that had become almost affectionate when I gave it to him.
He stared at me in mock disappointment as he grabbed a notebook and pencil so he could figure out how to unravel it. But then he looked over at Evan. “Hey, this is your job. Come help me—YOU FATTY WATTY SHOE FACE!”
After another round of laughter, Evan walked over and plopped down next to Gray. Z even stood by and helped them speed through the spell when Evan finally pulled out his wand to write.
“Alright, Preschool, let’s get you fixed,” Evan grinned.
I sat back in my chair, feeling a little self-satisfied. This crew was coming together.
* * *
The shopping crewthat mother surrounded me with had it together, the way demons had it together in hell. We’d gone to a norm store, because even though magicals could make clothes, magic always seemed to fit exactly to your form, which was not the most flattering. Mother was a believer that a good seamstress could hide nearly anything, make nearly anyone appear beautiful. So, we went to her favorite shop. The women fitting me for a rush custom suit and gown pinned me and poked me with evil efficiency that I had no doubt was designed for maximum torture.
Momoohed andahhed like this was a wedding dress fitting. She disappeared twice during it, no doubt to go swallow some more Calm in the bathroom. The fuckers that sold to her liked to mix it in with sparkling water, so that no one could tell that the can she carried glowed with green magic inside. Her elegant hair and outfit couldn’t cover up the fact that she was too thin—that she cared more about the spell than eating.
Tia just shook her head as she watched all the chaos. One of her aunts made dresses, so she was off the hook. She didn’t have to stand there like a pin cushion. She just ran a tongue over her black lipstick and said, “I’m not even jealous of how hot you’re gonna look in that dress after seeing this.”
Mom looked at fabric swatches from her seat. “Are you sure you don’t want another color, honey?” She held up a red silk. “We could re-dye your hair and this would look—”
“I want black, Mom.” I cut her off but tried to soften the rejection with a smile. I wanted black in case I needed to pull on my shadows—in case part one of the plan went to shit.
“But, with your hair streaks, won’t that look … Halloweeny?”
I sighed. But Tia nodded. I’d come to like the orange hair streaks a little. But, if we were busting ass to run away from the Pinnacle after this job, I didn’t need to be memorable. I sighed and nodded. “Fine. Let’s go get my hair dyed.”
Tia yipped like a puppy and I stared at her for a second—she’d gotten so caught up in the girlish excitement of this dance that she was actually smiling. She’d lost her ‘death to the world’ attitude.
At the salon, while Mom got her nails done, Tia and I sat and talked as our lowlights sank in.
“Okay, so … Evan. He’s like super-hot,” Tia cleared her throat. “Do you know … is he seeing someone?”
Panic. Awkward panic. I felt like I was doing that awkward side-step in the grocery store aisle, where the person in front of me and I keep stepping the same way and blocking each other. Crap. What did I tell her? “I’m not sure. I think he might be. But, it’s not something he talks to me about.”
She pressed her lips together. “Okay. So, maybe just a friend thing. But … maybe not.” The little jump in her tone at that had me feeling all kinds of anxiety.
