Life of a High School Witch (Witch/Mortal Love Story)

Your impression must be that the life of a teenage witch would be pretty easy, right? Well, you'd be wrong. It can be entertaining and is sometimes fun, but it is in no way easy. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, has to help keep the magical world under control and out of the perception of the mortals. And if you're reading this, chances are that you are one and if that is so, you best keep your damn trap shut unless you want me riding your ass like gay porno.

I'm sorry! With all this stress I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kourtney Skylar Reginald. I am sixteen years old, in 11th grade, and as far as I know, the only witch or magical being of any kind in my school. And that means I'm responsible for keeping an eye on the entire school to keep out any random gnomes or faeries that wander into the sight of mortals. In fact, the only reason you're reading this is because I can put it all online and have it passed off as fiction on a web site like this. So congratulations, because whether you believe me or not you are still one of the few mortals that know the truth. Spend this knowledge wisely.

Anyway, if you ever happen to come by Darwin High School up here in chilly, rainy, woodsy Maine I want you to know who I am. Unless you're a creepy, old, perverted rapist. In that case, pay no attention to the following details.

I've been told more than ten times that I could be a model. I stand at 5 feet 9 inches tall (I know I'm quite tall), weigh only 125lbs, a size 0 jeans, a perfect hourglass figure, and my entire body was shaded in a medium-beige sheet of flawless, seamless, smooth skin. I can eat whatever I want too and my body will still stay perfect. There's nothing quite like a witch's metabolism. As a witch, I never need to shave.

The only discolored marks on my entire body appeared when I caught sunlight, which caused freckles to be sprinkled across my nose. But those fade along with my tan, so they only last as long as summer anyway. My hair was naturally blue-black and straight, and it came down the bottom of my surprisingly large 32DD breasts. The bottom three inches were dyed a vivid pink and it was parted on the right. My angled fringe was dyed purple and just barely brushed my left eyelid the way it came down. My hair was cut into sheer, choppy layers that added exciting texture to it and also brought out the natural blue sheen.

The dark sheets framed my delicate, heart-shaped face and high cheekbones nicely, as well as my purple fringe bringing out the flecks of violet in my grey eyes. My eyelashes are dark black and so long and full I only need to curl them. I have full pink lips that I never really need product on and a tiny pixie nose. I've been told my laugh is like a tiny wind chime-precious and delicate. I have my lip on the left side pierced (with a cute crystal stud), my eyebrow, and bellybutton as well as four rows in each ear and an industrial bar on the right. All of that along with my cute girl abs, killer wardrobe, and athlete status I'm considered a bona fide knockout anywhere I go.

I guess I'm part of the 'popular' crowd, but I don't really try to be. I mean sure, people want to be around me because I guess I was born hot. But no matter how good-looking or popular someone is, I'm not going to hang out with them if they're an asshole, and I would especially never pick them over someone average but really cool.

Anyway, one day in school before homeroom something peculiar happened. A guy actually caught my eye.

He was around 6 feet tall and broad-shouldered. He had pretty decent pipes for arms and olive skin. His hair was to his earlobes, shaggy, and so dark brown it was almost black. His eyes were the same deep cocoa color and seemed to pull me in like nothing else. He had a few stray acne marks but nothing that severely detracted from that heavenly face. He was a pretty good looking guy for a mortal. He stood tall, pushed his shaggy hair out of his face, and gave me a heart-stopping smile. Usually I don't go after mortal guys, but this gentleman here had to be the exception to the rule. I quickly darted his way and put on my flirtiest smile.

"So are you new here?" I asked him, propped up against the wall next to where he was sitting outside the office. That day I was wearing black silk capri pants, a dark purple off the shoulder top made of the same silky material, and dark grey gladiator sandals. My hair was groomed to perfection and there wasn't a bad area on my body. My elegant neck was accented by my black choker with a dazzling violet stone dangling from it. My bottom earrings had beads in colors matching the stone on my choker. It also didn't hurt that I was showing a bit of cleavage.

It took him a minute to take in my appearance, then he nodded. "My name is Andrew."

"Kourtney," I replied as someone from the office handed him his schedule. I immediately grabbed it to take a look. "It looks like we have English, lunch, and gym together," I smiled my most dazzling smile, "And maybe we can hang out after school."

I grabbed his hand and took out a sharpie marker, writing out my name and phone number on his muscular forearm. When I was done, he took a look. "Kourtney with a 'K', huh?"

I nodded.

"I like it."

We both walked towards the junior homerooms. He waved as we separated.

I know I seem a bit too sure of myself, but I'm a witch and the magic is in my blood. I can't help having everything about me enhanced through my bloodline. Apparently it's essential to be able to keep the worlds in check or something. Honestly, I'd rather have been born normal. This life is too much stress with having to keep my temper and emotions in check to prevent 'accidents' of the magical kind, not to mention keeping a handle on myself so I don't physically lash out. I forgot to mention that I have three times the physical strength as I would if I was the same but human. So I really have to be careful not to scare Andrew away in gym while I'm tearing through guys twice my size and weight.