Izzy had a beauty that could not be replicated. She rarely wore anything other than black and was always decked out with bizarre jewelry. Today she was wearing a short black dress with bright red straps and a flared skirt. Her blonde hair was cropped short in back and angled forward to end at her chin. She never wore make up, which suited her translucent skin and bright blue eyes.
Despite her slightly gothic appearance, her personality was more cheerful than people would expect. She wasn’t the most agreeable person and had no patience for the bleach blonde Barbies of our school, but she had a sense of humor. She was also extremely loyal and accepting of mine and Willow’s differences. She never asked about the “witchy” part of our lives, but we knew she was aware of it. She had been to our homes and seen our town in the woods with the altar at its center. She seemed to naturally understand that it was a topic that was off limits.
“Where’s Willow?” I snapped to attention at my best friend’s name and shrugged.
“She sent me a text letting me know she was going to be late. She said she’d be here in time for lunch.”
Willow was a mouse with a secret spunk. She was eternally shy, but was the sweetest person I had ever met. I would do anything to keep her happy and safe. Her parents were part of the Meadow Falls coven, which meant she had lived there her entire life. Until I came along, she had been completely alone. The other kids in the coven tolerated, but ignored her. She wasn’t particularly talented in the magic arena. However, all born witches only had a portion of their true power until they came of age.
On the 16th anniversary of our first breath, we would come into our true powers. Until then it was impossible for the witchlings, which is what we called the children of full grown witches, to know how powerful they would be. Though, power tends to run in families. Willow came from a weaker line, and therefore was invisible to other witchlings.
Willow’s family was less powerful, but had a rare gift that allowed them to bring people back from the brink of death. That gift only came in handy if they were present for the exact moment of death; when a person passes through the veil between life and death.
I looked up when the warning bell sounded. Izzy was staring past my shoulder with a hungry look in her eyes. I turned around to see a dark brooding senior leaning against his locker speaking to someone, who I assumed was Griffin.
The senior was casually dressed with a maroon, long sleeve button up shirt that hung open to his middle. The shirt revealed a tight v-neck that accented his muscles. His hair was short and slightly spiky with a messy attitude. His eyes were devouring; I knew from experience that when those eyes were fixated on you, you could feel yourself being pulled into their vortex. His eyes were mesmerizing and kind. Most girls wanted to fall into those green orbs, but I was not one of them. Ash may be the most beautiful guy I had ever met, but he was the closest thing to a brother I had.
Izzy had issues with being interested in guys who were off limits to her. Ash, being part of my family, was off limits. He was also a senior, which made him even more tempting since seniors rarely dated sophomores.
Ash always acknowledged Izzy, which just encouraged her infatuation. She didn’t seem to understand that he was kind to her mainly because she was my friend. My anti-social behavior never sat well with Ash. He would go out of his way to bring any sort of happiness to my life. He appreciated anyone else who did this and so he was grateful to both Willow and Izzy. Though, Willow didn’t seem to enjoy his attention quite as much as Izzy did.
I eyed the boys as Griffin slammed his locker door and turned his sandy brown haired head in our direction. His blue eyes turned cold, when he took in Izzy and me. Ash looked up to see as he walked to us. Griffin stopped a little past us and waited impatiently as Ash leaned towards me to brush a wavy strand of hair away from my face. I shook my head so that the strand would return to its original state.
Ash smiled and said, “Maye wanted me to tell you that she wouldn’t be home after school. She said she had some things to take care of.”
Ash and I had a tentative relationship that was built on his unfailing patience in the face of the wall I built between me and the outside world. Ash’s problem was that he never gave up and he had a soft spot for damaged goods. I was the poster child for damaged, which meant that in our own way we had developed a close bond. He constantly tried to bring me out into the light and I persisted on remaining one with the shadows. However, there were times when we compromised by meeting in the middle.
“I know. I overheard her on the phone last week; something about a lawyer… Did she say why she was seeing one?”
Ash grunted, “No, but I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably making a will or something.” He stared me in the eye for a moment. “Do you want me to go straight home after school so you’re not alone?”
Ash knew that when I was alone in the house I tended to have panic attacks. He learned that the hard way when he came home with Maye from seeing a movie, to find me curled in fetal position in the kitchen pantry. When they tried to comfort me, I slashed at them with my nails, while letting forth a growl. My mind simply wouldn’t process who they were, and as cornered animals do… I viewed them as a threat. Ash managed to lure me out of my internal rage by singing to me. When my mind began to process who I had been slashing at, I broke down into tears. They made a point not to leave me home alone again.
“Mmmm… nope.” I avoided his eyes, as I shoved my books into the tote at my feet. “I’m not going to be home anyway. I promised Izzy we could go dress shopping today.” I rolled my eyes at Izzy.
“Well, if I am going to be seen with you two wallflowers, you can’t look like you just rolled out of bed. It’s either wear my clothes or buy something new. Since you and Willow insist my wardrobe is too garish for your complexions; that leaves shopping…” Izzy shrugged with a smile and walked off towards her first period class.
Ash blocked my way when I tried to follow. “You’re going shopping?” He laughed, “To a mall… to buy real clothes?” Amusement and disbelief ran rampant in his voice.
I shoved Ash gently against the locker. “Yes, to the mall for real clothes. What kind of clothes did you think I was going to buy?” I crossed my arms and gave him my, be careful what you say or you’ll regret it stare.
Griffin came to Ash’s rescue by shouting that they needed to get to class or they would be late. Ash glanced at me, shrugged and said “Guess I can’t answer that question. Talk to you tonight, S.”
I looked in the direction that Izzy had gone and slowly ambled forward. This was going to be a long day. Not only did I have to worry about a calculus test and the inevitable bruising from self defense class, but I had to worry about shopping too.
Ash
When Savannah turned, her hair grazed my face and brought the fresh scent of strawberries. I thought it was ironic that she was firm in her decision to be anti-feminine, considering that she added small accents, which were very much feminine. Savannah had been that way since the first day I met her. She fought a war within herself; always trying to be someone she wasn’t. She was beautiful, but she hid it behind baggy clothes. She was smart, but she never opened her mouth to show it. She was insecure and yet she deliberately took the lead, as if daring her personality to deny her anything.
At first, I was jealous when Savannah came to live with us. I had been uncomfortable with the idea of sharing Maye since she was the only family I had left. When I thought of the look in Savannah’s eyes the night she showed up on our lawn; the vacant cavern of emotion behind her gaze, I wanted to rescue her.
I was a child when Savannah came to live with us and didn’t realize that she couldn’t be fixed. She wasn’t a disease or a broken computer; she was a girl who had endured the nine circles of hell and survived. I admired her, but more than that I loved her. I had to share Maye, but I gained so much more.
I couldn’t help but feel protective of Savannah; it was in my nature. I was an Emmons; it was in our blood to protect
our loved ones, just as it was in our nature to descend into a poisonous rage when those loved ones are threatened. The thought of the trials Savannah endured, was enough to make me lengthen my fangs and hiss.
I walked to English, and went to each of my classes, but they were more of a formality at this point. Other than first period English and fourth period gym, I had enough credits to graduate. Rather than taking a course load of unneeded electives, I choose to go home directly after lunch.
As a senior, I sat in the first cafeteria. My small band of friends took up the table in the middle of the room, which meant that we were the object of many stares. Unlike my friends, I was uncomfortable with people watching me. I felt like a stage puppet for the student population. Griffin enjoyed performing for everyone. I didn’t.
My table was filled mostly with girls and a handful of guys. I sat on the far end of it, which over looked the entrance to the cafeteria. Griffin sat directly across from me and Isis next to him. The rest weren’t witches, and remained unaware of what we were.
Isis was a member of the coven, but I found her annoyingly flirtatious. Her cruelty towards Savannah and her friends made me dislike her. Many considered Isis beautiful, but her beauty lay in her appearance only. Her skin was the shade of bronzed coffee. Her hair hung straight down her back to graze her thighs, and her eyes were like red garnets. She wore her makeup the way ancient Egyptians had, with the color outlining her eyes to make them seem catlike. She had an amazing body; thin with long legs and big breasts. I knew that was why Griffin kept her around. They hooked up on a regular basis, but neither really wanted the other for anything more than sex.
Isis was rarely found without her two best friends, Jen and Stacey. They were twins from the coven, but their parents had taken them out of the country to visit relatives in Ireland for a few weeks. Isis was alone and she did not look happy about it. She was on a war path and her personality depicted it.
I winced, thinking that Isis would probably go out of her way to cause problems for Savannah until her friends were back to distract her. She usually attacked Savannah when she was in a bad mood.
“Look who just walked in.” Isis craned her neck, as she pointed out Savannah entering the cafeteria. “It’s such a shame that she has the body of a child. She could almost be pretty. Maybe I should suggest a plastic surgeon to fix her problem areas.” Her eyes sparkled with wicked intent. “I mean, she is almost sixteen. It’s not normal to be so flat chested. Maybe, she is really a boy?” Isis looked me in the eye, daring me to defend Savannah. I ignored her, and ate my fries.
“I think I’ll offer her that advice.” Isis turned to Griffin. He nodded, and smiled.
“Go ahead. It’s about time someone told her.” He nodded in Savannah’s direction.
Isis pulled herself out of her seat and began to walk towards Savannah with a gleeful determination to her step. I spun out of my seat, walked briskly to her and grabbed her arm in a harsh grip.
“Lay off it. You’re not going to say anything to her, understood?” I ground the words through clenched teeth, and felt my eyes glow in warning. I was descended from the Emmons line, which was known for their tempers.
To be on the bad side of an Emmons was deadly. I was strongest in the fire element, and when push into a rage my teeth would lengthen to poisonous fangs. We were known to be especially protective of our families.
Isis stared in wonder at the fangs protruding from my open mouth. Her mouth was wide at seeing them for the first time. Ordinarily, I controlled my temper, but lately I found my emotions chaotic.
“You will leave her alone.” My speech was slurred. Isis nodded, and I released her arm. Her arm was bruised in the shape of my fingers. I should have felt guilty, but seeing Savannah walk out the doors and I knew I couldn’t regret my actions.
Savannah
The first half of the school day passed quickly. I hardly noticed as the hands of the clock danced past noon. The lunch bell sounded and my stomach growled in annoyance. I stored my bag in my locker on my way to the cafeteria and took a few moments to check my cell for messages. I had a text from Maye and felt my stomach drop before I opened it.
Considering Maye’s bafflement at modern technology, I knew she must have spent a good while figuring how to send me a text, which was confirmed when I saw several more texts with the exact same message. It took seeing my parents’ names flash across the screen before I processed what she wrote me. Nausea engulfed me, as I stuff my phone into my locker and rushed to lunch.
Our basement level school cafeteria was somewhat unique. It was divided into four sections, which were then divided into cliques.
The first section was filled with the stereotypical jocks and Cheerleader’s, but also had people who I called the shadows. These were people who were notorious for shadowing these groups and were tolerated, but not encouraged by the actual group members.
The second section was filled to the brim with the norms, which were people who were literally the definition of average. Usually they refused to stick to a single clique, dangling between several.
The third cafeteria was littered with the smart crowd. These were not just typical geeks, but rather truly intelligent individuals. The last cafeteria was the unlucky one. Anyone in that section belonged in the invisible or obnoxious category. They were either so mouse like that no one noticed them or they belonged to the worse category filled with class clowns, Goths, or Punks. While the great population shunned the people in the last section, I found them to be the most worthy of knowing.
I walked through sections all four sections and paused when I reached the doors that led to the quad. My best friends were unquestionably section four students, but rather than be persecuted by high school stereotypes; they choose to ignore their status. We compromised with high school mentality by claiming a picnic bench outside during the warmer months and populated the library during winter.
Our bench was a mint green metallic monstrosity, but it was ours. During lunch, we were usually surrounded by herds of people who claimed the benches nearby. However, today I noticed that most of the benches were empty. I figured this had something to do with the light mist that covered the benches from the spring rain this morning.
Willow and Izzy were seated on opposite sides of the bench. This was usually the case since I was the thread that tied them together. Izzy was the obnoxious borderline Goth type, while Willow was the invisible moral type. They belonged at opposite sides of the spectrum, but when the three of us were together they glided from their opposing sides to merge in the middle.
Willow seemed distracted this morning, while Izzy chatted uncontrollably. When I approached, a branch snapped beneath my flats and caused them to turn. Willow looked up at me and smiled. Most people couldn’t see Willows beauty because she caved in on herself when around other people. However, when Willow wasn’t afraid that people might be judging her, she had a natural classic beauty.
Willow held her smile a bit too long and I noticed the strain behind her hazel eyes. Her chestnut brown hair was casually thrown into a messy bun at her nape with random strands falling around her heart shaped face.
Willow never wore her hair up unless it was arranged perfectly. She wasn’t the typical teen to concentrate on what was fashionable, but instead kept to a durable look. I knew something must be off about today; her hair was screaming it at me. I made a silent promise to ask her later. Willow knew my silent signals and quirked up the corner of her mouth. Willow had coupled her messy look with a pair of loose fitting jeans and a shirt that was at least a size too big on her.
“Hey, S.” Willow’s voice was quiet and soft. She was the embodiment of nature; quite, serene, and its beauty was often overlooked. If there had been any noise other than a light breeze on the nearby trees, I would not have heard her.
I sat down next to Willow and directly across from Izzy. Willow grabbed a lunch tray and pushed it towards me. I glanced down at some Bosco sticks with marinara sauce and garlic fries.
Since Willow had a free period directly before lunch, she could get to the lunch room before the absurdly long line took over. Luckily, she knew exactly what to order for me on any given day. She claimed we had a psychic appetite connection. I thought it was more likely that it had to do with my picky appetite, the fact that I only liked five things on the menu, and I hated eating the same thing two days in a row.
“Excited about shopping?” I said this sarcastically Willow disliked shopping even more than I did.
Willow rolled her eyes and rasped “Oh, of course. I’ve been anxiously waiting for this day! Or rather the end of it…” Izzy grabbed a rolled up napkin and threw it at Willows face, and Willow batted it away.
“Ha ha, very funny you two! Just wait, when we arrive at the bonfire and everyone stops to stare at our gorgeously clothed bodies, you will thank me.” Willow and I exchanged a horrified glance and burst out laughing. Izzy may want everyone staring at her, but if they did that, it would only be in revulsion. People attending the bonfire were not overly fond of our little group.
“So, where are you planning on taking us for our little field trip? The strip in Landing or the mall in Bloomingdale?” I already knew the answer, but I also knew Izzy would have a riot talking about our excursion, which would provide me with time to think about more important subjects, while I nodded absently in affirmation.
Maye wasn’t giving me a choice. Her text said “We are going to your parents’ house this weekend”, not “I would like to” or “Are you interested in.” She had made her text a statement and when Maye did that, the subject was not to be argued. I wouldn’t be given any leeway about confronting that place. For whatever reason, Maye required me to face my childhood for the possibility that I might want some of their things. I thought that was ridiculous, but I couldn’t tell Maye that.
My heart constricted, as I remembered Maye’s text. As their only child, my parents’ estate had been left to me when they died. Maye, as my guardian, had been in control of that estate all these years, and we had silently agreed that it was a subject I did not want to talk about. However, according to her text, she had a buyer who was interested in my parents’ home. She knew that I would like to wash my hands of that house and accepted the offer on my behalf. She wanted me to go with her to the house this weekend to see if there was anything I wanted to keep before papers were signed.