Old Magic(15)

‘It’s Warren. And damn you, you felt me!’

Still breathing heavily I try to catch my breath. She can’t know what she’s talking about. She’s fast freaking me out. And I know my words are going to hurt, but I have to do it. ‘Listen, Kate Warren, you’re delusional. You’re insane. They gotta lock you up before you hurt someone.’

I start running again, along the winding road to the first hairpin bend, the going much easier now, downhill all the way. Yet I can’t make my legs run fast enough, away from Kate, away from her psychotic accusations.

I hear the softly spoken words in my head as if she were standing right beside me, whispering in my ear. ‘With your powers unleashed, you’re the one who could hurt someone.’

I shake my head and look around. No one. Yet I swear it’s Kate’s voice. Goose bumps crack the surface of my skin. I must be losing it. It can’t have been her. It has to be my subconscious. That’s all.

‘Anything could happen!’

Her madness is rubbing off on me. I promise myself that I will do anything, everything! to stay away from her. I’ll find out who she hangs around with at school and make sure I get in with a different group. Even if that group is Pecs’s. It will be way safer than hanging around with Kate.





Kate


Friday morning we’re all grouped in the quadrangle outside the canteen before school. Hannah and I usually don’t hang around this area. It doesn’t have a sign anywhere that says, ‘Trendies Only’, it’s left unsaid; but everyone knows these tables are the popular group’s hang-out. But today it’s raining, a chilling wind is blowing right through our uniforms. I wish I’d worn my blazer as well as my maroon wool jumper. The quadrangle area is the only part of school that offers moderate shelter from bitter weather. It’s supposed to be large enough to house the entire school population under cover, but really, only if we were sheep.

I’ve had almost a week to think about Jarrod. Not necessarily by choice, my brain just refuses to think about anything else. I’ve had nothing to do with him since that first day, or I should say, he’s had nothing to do with me. He’s keeping his distance, and well, I just have to accept that’s how he wants it. And I know exactly what he’s on about, hanging around with that other lot. Not only does he think I’m crazy, he’s also running scared. Scared of my ‘bad luck’ theories.

‘Looks like he’s settled in nicely,’ Hannah says between sips of hot chocolate. ‘And why not,’ she goes on. ‘Looks count for a lot with that group. He’s pretty hot. Whatd’ya reckon?’

In my direct span of vision, I see Jarrod’s arm casually slung around Jessica Palmer’s back. I try to drag my eyes away from his fingers sliding rhythmically up and down her left arm. Unfortunately I can’t stop the sounds of her twittering voice chirping on and on about how cold she is even though she’s wearing a jumper, blazer and long pants. I try to concentrate on what Hannah is saying. Jarrod hot? I guess I agree with that, but wording my thoughts out loud? I don’t think so. If Hannah catches on to my feelings for Jarrod, she’ll stir the hell outta me for the next ten centuries.

He glances my way and our eyes meet and hold for an undefinable fragment of time. I swallow hard, the buzzer sounds, and we start moving to class.

I haven’t answered Hannah, but it seems she’s taken my silence as general agreement anyway. ‘I mean,’ she rambles on, ‘he’s clumsy and all, can’t seem to stop dropping things – like those raw eggs in Food Tech yesterday, what a mess, and the chickens got out when he was supposed to have locked the cages in Agriculture; but somehow with him, it just makes him cuter, if that’s possible. Even the glasses look great on him.’

Her analysis grates on my nerves. ‘Oh shut up, Han.’

She tosses her empty cup into a bin. ‘What’s with you?’

I throw her a look that should have her breaking out in big blistery facial acne if I add the accompanying chant. It’s a mistake. Straight away it clicks.

‘Oh no,’ she groans with a half-laugh. ‘You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I lie. I do have it bad, bordering on obsession. And I don’t like feeling this way – vulnerable. Geez, I’m conscious of everything about him: where he is any minute of the day, what he’s doing, who he’s talking to, what he’s possibly thinking. It’s driving me crazy.

There’s a bunch of us now, making our way inside the corridors. At least it will be warmer in class today. The only attraction.