Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 143051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 477(@300wpm)
Not that they didn’t still try.
As Megan was mixing the wet ingredients for our cake while I sifted flour and cocoa powder into the bowl for the dry ingredients, one of the Weird Sisters walked past our table.
Megan pretended not to notice when the girl whispered something under her breath—doubtless casting a spell. I followed her lead, keeping my head down while I sifted.
We followed the same protocol, looking down when the second Weird Sister came by our table, also muttering a spell. By the time Nancy herself came by, Megan had clearly had enough.
“You have a problem, Nancy?” she demanded, glaring at the other girl. “Or do you think you can make my cake fall just by staring at it hard enough?”
Nancy glared at her.
“Maybe I can.”
Megan gave her a sweetly sympathetic look.
“Oh, sorry hon, but I’m afraid that’s not going to work. Or did you forget that I neutered your magic? See, you can only work nice spells now. Things that make people happy. I’m sure that must be hard for you to understand, since you only used your magic for evil in the past. But unfortunately, that’s just the way it is.”
Never let it be said that my Coven-mate can’t throw shade when she wants to. I looked at Megan admiringly.
Nancy scowled.
“We’re going to find a way around your meddling magic, you little Charity Case upstart,” she snarled at Megan. “You’re going to be sorry you ever entered the Magical world in the first place—see if you’re not!”
Megan leaned over the table we were standing at and looked Nancy full in the face.
“Do…your…worst,” she said slowly and deliberately. “Just remember, only happy spells. ‘K, hon?” And she smiled brightly.
For a minute, I thought Nancy might actually explode with rage. Her face turned red and her too-large lips tightened down to a thin white line.
“Fine,” she hissed. “I will—you’ll see, you little bitch!”
Then she raised her hand and shouted, “Mrs. Hornsby? Mrs. Hornsby, could you please come over here?”
9
Kaitlyn
I felt my throat start to close with panic as the Home Ec teacher looked up from talking to another student and started towards us.
“Yes, Miss Rattcliff?” she said, frowning and wiping her hands on the long white apron she wore as she got to us. “What is it? Is there a problem?”
“There certainly is, Mrs. Hornsby.” Nancy widened her eyes innocently. “I was just walking by this table and I saw that new girl’s hair getting into their cake batter.” She pointed at me and made a face, as though what she’d seen had thoroughly disgusted her.
“That’s a lie!” Megan said immediately. “Kaitlyn is very careful to keep her hair out of the way.”
“Not from what I saw, she’s not!” Nancy exclaimed dramatically. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more hair than flour in that batter. Ugh!”
“Mrs. Hornsby, Nancy is just trying to get us in trouble,” Megan insisted.
“No, I’m not!” Nancy looked at the teacher with wide, innocent eyes. “Mrs. Hornsby, I’m not trying to make trouble—I’m only thinking of you. I know you have to taste all our projects to give us a grade, and I didn’t think you’d want to end up with a big wad of hair in your mouth.”
“I most certainly do not.” Mrs. Hornsby glared at Megan and me. “Both of you girls have extremely long hair—you really should be wearing hairnets.”
I felt frozen inside. A hairnet? As in something that would pull my hair completely away from my face and show off my scars? This was as bad as the awful PE class where Coach Vasquez had forced me to put my hair back into a ponytail. Worse, maybe, because everyone in the class would be staring at me while I did it, curious to see what I had been hiding behind my concealing curtain of hair.
“Mrs. Hornsby, this is really unfair to Kaitlyn,” Megan said quickly. “I’ll put my hair back so I can finish the batter and putting the pans in the oven and she can just help with frosting the cake.”
“So that she can shed her nasty hair in the frosting too?” Nancy exclaimed loudly. “Disgusting! Poor Mrs. Hornsby is going to be choking up a hairball like a cat when she gets a bite of your nasty little cake!”
“That will be enough, Miss Rattcliff,” Mrs. Hornsby said sharply, but I could tell Nancy’s words had had an effect on her. “Miss Latimer, get two hairnets from the supply shelf behind you,” she directed Megan. “Both of you are to wear them as long as we are baking and working with food.”
Megan looked like she wanted to protest again, but I gave her a tiny shake of my head. No good could come of making a bigger scene than Nancy already had. Maybe if we just complied quietly, everything would blow over and all the students could go back to working on their baking projects.