Family Magic by Chloe Price (old books to read .txt) 📖

Despite the endless promises I made, the next day while prepping for school I found myself yet again a slave to trend setting and lip-gloss. So much for the new and improved Syd who didn’t take crap from anyone. In fact, by the time I hit the front steps, I was a nervous wreck. How much damage had I done? If they thought I was a freak before, what was I classified as a target now?

Unfortunately, yes. Might as well have had a bull's-eye painted on my chest. From the moment I set foot in the front lobby of Wilding Springs High, I opened myself to the bombardment of Alison’s revenge. Not just Alison, either, from the looks I took from the general population. I was in it deep and even those who might have felt some sympathy gave me a wide berth. They knew a sinking ship when they saw one. Nobody wanted to get sucked in when the vortex of Alison decided my doom was at hand.

Still, they started small, bless them, softened me up a bit, eased me into it. Nothing overt, at least not at first. If I was doing the bullying the whole dissection of self-esteem would have been way more messy. I would never give the sucker a chance to see what was coming. Hit them with both barrels right away. But then again, I wasn’t an expert in emotional and psychological torture like Alison and the ‘Fem Bots’. They were far more subtle, insidious, breaking down the spirit and will of their chosen prey, chipping away at all self-esteem with their French manicures and evil hearts.

The people who think witches are dangerous were never bullied in high school.

So, like clockwork, the subtle, nasty stuff started it off. At least I was expecting it. Not wanting it, hoping I could avoid it, but otherwise knowing in my soul it was inevitable.

It began with the ‘innocent’ bump knocking my trendy bag into a puddle of spilled chocolate milk that just happened to be there. I managed to get to a bathroom and get most of it out before it stained. Of course, the milk already had time to turn rancid, naturally. Fresh stuff wouldn’t do. So, stinky purse it was, then.

I was vaguely surprised to make it to my locker with only minor tripping and secretive name-calling incidents. Surely they would attempt something else in the three minutes it took me to get to homeroom? I needn’t have worried. They thought of everything.

Someone scrawled ‘bitch’ across my locker door with black marker. I suffered glares from the people with lockers around me. Goody, Syd’s making more friends.

I took a deep breath and chose to ignore it. I think it’s probably one of the bravest things I have ever done.

I tried to put it in perspective. After all, someone went to all the time and trouble to decorate my locker door. Wow, that took talent. And, hey, I was part of something normal, wasn’t I? Amazing I could cheer myself up at a time like this.

But more was to come, oh yes.

My homeroom teacher, Ms. Fiat, was not amused by the use of vocabulary displayed on my locker door, and made me go to the office to tell the vice-principal what happened. Which meant I ended up cleaning the door of my locker myself because the janitor refused to do it. Even better, I missed a test in English I had to make up on my own time.

This was getting old fast.

Imagine my absolute misery when I returned to class in time to find out Quaid Moromond was in my homeroom.

Oh, the day just went better and better. I struggled to ignore the burning sensation on the back of my head as his smirk wore a hole through me. When I stood up at the end of period bell, I caught his eye. He smiled at me in a dark and nasty way.

“Syd.” It wasn’t fair his voice made me shiver with the richness of it now that I’d decided he wasn’t getting anywhere near me.

“Quaid.” I think I managed the right tone. That’s it. Keep it impersonal.

His grin widened while the dark of his eyes stayed flat and cool. “Nice school you have here.” Those words felt like a weapon. Did he know already what an outcast I was? How could he? Panic overtook me even as my demon inhaled his scent and decided she liked what she smelled.

Traitor.

“You can have it.” My voice wavered a bit as I struggled to control her and my concern about how much he knew. I’m not sure why it bothered me since I figured if he didn’t know he’d be finding out soon enough. Still.

Quaid rolled his shoulders in a shrug, the leather of his black jacket creaking. “We’ll see,” he said, sounding bored as he looked around. “Nothing’s caught my attention so far.”

He was a total and complete ass. My body vibrated with the need to slap him while my demon hummed and purred, reaching tendrils of herself around my trembling shields. I stepped back quickly, out of physical reach, hating that she had so much control over me.

“Maybe you’ll be moving on soon, then.” I made it pretty clear my opinion on the matter just from the glare I gave him.

“Maybe. I’ll see you, Syd.” He had the nerve to offer a little wave and a wink as he brushed past me out the door.

I snarled at my demon to shut up and stop whining when he disappeared into the crowd. Like I wanted anything to do with the arrogant creep. I had no idea what the demon side of me saw in him and had no desire to find out.

I slumped through second period in misery, simply ignoring the hail of spit balls from the back of the room, knowing they were added fun, not on Alison’s sophisticated lineup of plans for my personal embarrassment. No, this was simply the football team adding their own particular brand of Neanderthal entertainment.

A quick trip to the bathroom after class for some rapid brushing eliminated the offending projectiles. I tried to ignore the stares and unfriendly giggles from the other girls in the room and bent to replace my brush in my bag, only to discover it missing. I checked around, feeling a little desperate when I found it gone. The bathroom emptied, innocent kids running for cover as they sensed the horror to come. I turned in time to see one of Alison’s cronies smiling at me. Her eyes flickered to a stall as she left me all alone in the bathroom. I went to the doorway and cringed before looking inside.

I wished I hadn’t. The entire contents of my bag were in the toilet. My lip-gloss tube floated gallantly to the surface while most of the rest of my belongings soaked up water and sank like rocks to the bottom of the bowl.

Oh, well. At least no one used it first. Anything to give this a silver lining.

I was running out of pep talks, though.

It took me the better part of lunch to retrieve and dry my stuff, at least the stuff I wanted to salvage. Most of it ended up in the trash with the added moisture of my silent tears for good measure. I was glad I was alone in the bathroom. I would have hated it if it got back to Alison she managed to make me cry so early in the game.

The last thing I fished out was a picture of Meira, one of my favorites. That pissed me off. The anger from the day before started to emerge again. I shoved it away immediately. I was already in enough trouble. There was no way I’d willingly bring down any more crap on myself by being stupid enough to think I could stand against Alison when she really wanted me to suffer.

I retrieved my lunch from my locker and retreated to a quiet corner to eat it with the five minutes I had left. I curled up on a wide windowsill in a quiet part of the school and tried not to cry some more. I started to nibble at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, feeling the most alone I ever had, finally tossing the majority of it in the trash. No use eating something that tasted like defeat.

When the bell rang, I squared my shoulders and went to class. I would take my punishment and get my life back to normal.

But what if this is just the beginning? I froze in mid-step, forcing a couple of people walking behind me to go around and give me odd glances. I gulped, averting my eyes, panic gripping me. I hated when that little voice reared its ugly head. This was not going to continue. This was Alison Morgan wanting her pound of flesh, nothing more. As long as I behaved and took my knocks, it would dry up and go away.

Only I had a sinking feeling the little voice was right.

Chemistry was a nightmare. I stuttered through a presentation as Alison watched me. Worst of all, Quaid did too. I had it hard enough dealing with the real world. Why did my other life have to get involved all of a sudden? I managed to glare back at him before taking my seat. I saw Alison notice. She had a look of interest on her face that made me nervous and after class I saw why. She chatted up Quaid. The two seemed to be hitting it off quite nicely.

Probably plotting against me, I thought. When they laughed and glanced my way, I knew my paranoia was justified.

By the end of the day I was a quivering wreck. The small insults kept coming, from a trip here sending me sprawling and tearing my new jeans, to a horrid little note being passed to me from an anonymous author telling me what everyone thought of me, to getting sent to the principal’s office again for passing notes. Not to mention the gagging noises and hocking of lugies following me everywhere. I couldn’t win and knew without a doubt if it kept up much longer I would personally do something coven-related to make us move.

Finally the endless day ended. I grabbed my remaining belongings from my locker, not willing to leave anything behind. I turned into the crowd to run home and hide under my comforter. Tomorrow was going to be a sick day if I had to make myself ill.

Didn’t I do it again? Ran right smack into Brad. I almost had a heart attack. Set up! My little voice screamed as I scanned the crowd for Alison. What diabolical scheme was this? I backed away from him, feeling like I’d just dropped out of the fire into the burning pit of hell. Brad stepped forward, concern on his face, the half-smile in greeting fading fast.

“Syd?” He reached out one hand. “Are you okay?”

I risked another glance around the crowd for the bitch queen. Still no Alison. Despite her absence, I knew the kids in the hallway watched and listened with every fiber in their being.

“Yeah, thanks,” I ducked my head and tried to dodge him. He wasn’t having any. Brad stopped me by grabbing my arm, not hard. The touch alone was enough to make me halt and look up.

“I seem to keep running into you,” he said, trying to make a joke of