Old Magic(16)

Hannah laughs loudly, amused by the thought of me hung up on Jarrod. If I’m being honest I can see her point. The guy is way out of my league now. Apparently accepted by the elite group, what would he want with me? He would be shunned if he got caught fraternising with the weirdos. Unless they have to, nobody talks to Hannah and me. We’re different, we don’t conform to strict society rules. Hannah is simply too poor, the holes in her shoes and dilapidated backpack, her second-hand uniform and charity shop clothes, adequate testimony to that. She could never keep up with the latest trends; and of course, she hangs around with me – Scary Face, as Pecs likes to call me. Hannah’s been my friend since kindergarten, when I was the only one who didn’t laugh at her borrowed and old-fashioned clothes, or make nasty snide remarks about her family’s poverty status. Everyone knows the Brelsfords live on handouts. Five children, a father who walked away when the youngest was just three weeks old, it has to be hard.

‘Sucked in!’ Hannah exclaims, still laughing.

In my present mood this just makes me volatile.

‘Gotta do something to cheer you up,’ she says, spinning around and causing a hassle as others have to move around her to get past, and everyone’s in a rush to get out of the cold. ‘Let’s go to the movies tonight. It’s Friday.’

The theatre up here, a refurbished old Anglican Church, holds showings only three days a week – Friday nights, Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

We discuss what’s showing, something about a witch on trial in the 16th century. We both burst out laughing at this.

‘Forget it,’ we say simultaneously, bursting into more fits of giggles. We decide to go to the Icehouse instead. The local cafe. At least my mood begins to improve. It will help me get through the day. Ashpeak High is such a small school, the whole of Year 10 – twenty-seven students – fits into one classroom. The only time we ever split up is for optional subjects. The social scene is a bit like that too. The only place in town worth a look is the Icehouse. Run by an Italian family that’s lived on the mountain longer than I’ve lived on earth, the cafe has a distinct Italian flavour. The cappuccinos are great. Ashpeak’s only claim to culture.

We agree to meet at eight. I spend the rest of the day wondering whether Jarrod will be there, and if so, will he be taking Jessica Palmer? This thought grates on my nerves – Jarrod and Jessica. I can’t concentrate and eventually my mood takes another dive. Of course he’ll be there, and of course he’ll take Jessica. That group always hangs out at the Icehouse. Where else is there?

By the end of the day I’ve convinced myself the only reason I’m interested in Jarrod is because I’m concerned for his well-being. At least, other than his clumsiness, nothing else extraordinary or odd has happened. Either he’s keeping a firm hold on his emotions, or I made a huge mistake last Monday, and he really didn’t cause that storm in the lab. It all seems like a dream now, even though a temporary lab has been set up in the Admin block until the repairs are complete. But what about that enchanted wind in Jillian’s shop? Was that simply my imagination?

If Jarrod doesn’t have the gift then I’ve made an earth-shattering fool of myself and given a complete stranger enough ammunition to have the whole town laughing in my face, sniggering behind my back even more than before. These thoughts are disturbing. My face goes hot like I’ve just stuck it inside Jillian’s kiln.

I’m relieved when school is finally over for the day. The chilling wind is actually quite refreshing, cooling me off. I start reliving the things I told Jarrod – every stupid word.

As I make my way home I realise, either way, I’ve blown it.





Kate


The Icehouse is crowded. Everyone’s here, everyone it seems except Jarrod. Jessica Palmer’s here though, hanging out with a loud group of boys mostly – Pecs, Ryan, Pete O’Donnell – her usual crowd. I wonder what’s happened to Tasha? Pecs has an arm thrown over the back of Jessica’s seat. Occasionally his hand slides down and grips Jessica’s shoulder, giving it a revolting squeeze.

Hannah notices this little play. ‘Look at that.’ With disgust in her voice she indicates with a flick of her head the rowdy group consisting of Pecs and his mates. They have the centre two tables drawn together, so they’re hard to miss. Their desired effect. ‘Did you hear? Tasha’s given Pecs the shove.’

I stare at her. This is big news.

She’s rapt she has my whole attention. ‘Apparently she gave him an ultimatum: accept Jarrod into their group, or get lost. Can you believe it? Underneath that butch exterior Pecs is a kitten licking Her Highness’s feet. And,’ she continues without even taking a breath, ‘rumour has it, Tasha’s got Jarrod dangling off her royal hook.’