When the Thursday morning of the Great Confrontation comes, I wake up late for class. No surprise there. Being a pile of nerves the previous night didn't make for the best night of sleep.
I jump off my bed, my heart a nerve-ticking bomb. I'll be late for math class for the third time in a month.
I throw a quick glance at the clock on the wall. It's 7:52 am when I start stuffing my backpack with whatever notebooks I set eyes on my desk. Then throw it to my back with a swing.
I bolt downstairs and out of the house. Somehow, I'm still hopeful the school bus that was supposed to be at the bus stop half an hour ago would be there.
The confirmation comes as soon as I step outside the yard: no sign of the bus. Even even cars pass by. 10th street is pretty much a desert.
I'm off for an anxious, thirty-minute walk to school. I rush my steps along the pavement, jumping out of my skin as soon as I turn at the intersection.
I spring back, almost involuntarily, my eyes wide with shock. Cindy is here.
"Hello," he says casually, like he didn't just give me a heart attack.
"Jesus," I can't help a yell of frustration after a heavy exhale, "can't you warn me when you're going to appear like that?" I ask with a palm against my chest.
"In need of some help?" he asks, slightly uneasy, judging by the way his fingers fumble with the tips of his hair. I can imagine a blush under the coat of make-up he is wearing. That surprises me.
A sharp snap of fingers follows, then his magic wand is trapped among his fingers, silvery light dissipating in the surrounding emptiness. He looks at me with his lips pursed, his wand raised, waiting for an answer from me.
There is no way to be on time for Mrs. Gilbert class if I walk. I don't want to risk having to bring Lia a written note from her for being late for the third time being this month.
I swallow hard, then nod bashfully. "Okay," I say. "Just-,"
Cindy swings his stick before I'm able to finish my sentence, drawing a gleaming light in the air that thickens until it resembles a veil covering me.
The brightness overcomes my vision and I'm light as a feather, vibrating and flying along a tunnel whose walls are stars upon stars in colors I cannot name.
The next thing I know, I'm at school. But instead of being in the classroom, I'm in the garden in the back of the building of Belfort High...I look around... inside a bunch of shrubs.
There are more leaves than I can count covering the brick-colored building from my view. Twigs stab me in all directions when I try to me.
The Contract, the magic, and Cindy being my fairy Godmother... All of them are real, but as I stay here, trapped inside the core of shrubs, I'm starting to think he isn't as talented with his magic as I first thought. That would explain the ruined bicycle episode.
I stay there still for a moment, contemplating which way to take to get out of this mess with the least scratches and tears on my clothes.
All it takes is the ringing of the bell, and I jump out of the shrubs carelessly, then I rush along the hallways and enter the classroom out of breath.
I push the door open to face Mrs. Gilbert at her desk, looking back at me from thick glasses that seem to give her quadruple eyes that seem to be screaming at me you lost...bitch.
All this effort to be late in the end. Mrs. Gilbert shakes her head. I walk bashfully to my seat.
I've always known she was evil. Even when she used to tolerate me. Lately she has been giving me mixed signs. Probably something to do with that C minus I got on her last test. I brush off the thought and keep walking to my seat.
A few muffled chuckles echo in the classroom despite Mrs. Gilbert calling for silence. I find a seat in the row beside Mara's, trying to ignore my classmates. She's not looking at me, but she can barely contain her grin.
When she looks at me, her chubby cheeks are burning from laughing. She pushes her blonde hair behind her shoulder and mouths, "What the hell?"
I lean on my desk, narrowing my eyes because I'm having trouble reading her lips.
Touching her hair, she mutters, "The leaves."
I grab bits of leaves off my hair. "Thanks," I say, my face flushing. So that's the reason for the amusement.
I would tell Mara what happened. She's my best friend. We share everything. But judging by her reaction when I told her about the golden bracelet, that wouldn't amount to much. Both the bracelet and Cindy are invisible to the rest of the world.
Mara's theory is that my fear of solving the real issue (confronting Jord, for starters) is making me come up with all the magical excuses.
She is right that I don't want to address it, but what is there to address anyway? Everything is pretty clear to me. Jord lured me, got my hopes up and blew me off. I was stupid enough to fall for it.
I guess it's too late to reason with her now, since she's already convinced me to talk to Jord later today. Knowing Mara, I can't argue enough to dissuade her. Also, deep down, I know she's right.
From her desk, Mara aims me a smile. It's both a smile of reassurance and confirmation that she will act according to our agreement last Sunday. And I see my theory come to reality in the afternoon after the last period.
As soon as the bell rings, she leads me by the hand to the grand gymnasium. She's making me a bit uneasy. Many people are staring at us. But none of this discourages her. At some point, I quit fighting against her lead to the poetry club.
She leads me down the end of the main hall of the school. That's where the gymnasium is. Where the poetry club reunites once a week. The plan was originally to get there before the beginning of their session, but it doesn't seem like a day to be on time for me. It seems like they've already started.
There are at least ten people gathered in the middle of the basketball court, including Jord.
We both glance through the oval window giving a view of the interior of the gym. Then we face each other. Are we really doing this?
Mara's phone buzzes and while she checks it, I lose myself looking at Jord.
Jord's dressed in his uniform: a dark blue top, sleeveless, and bottoms with the number 72 in red. His ball rests next to him, and he plays with it almost absentmindedly, like it's a part of him. Something like a big extra, orange and spherical hand. Not more or less a part of him than the smile he is casting to the girl next to him. I wish it was me at the receiving end of that smile.
"Don't worry about her," Mara says, "I don't think she's his type. Or anyone's." She laughs.
I inspect the girls uncombed brown hair and her baggy clothes. She smiles to Jord and says something close to his ear. Jord does the same. They laugh. And I feel like the acid in my stomach is digging a hole inside me.
Mara pats my back softly. "I would love to stay, but we're a bit late. Can't wait until the end of the session. I have to go help my mom take care of her kitchen stuff," she says. "Promise me you'll talk to him." I nod and she walks away.
When her steps aren't audible in the halls anymore, a deep voice resounds behind me.
"So, she's Mara. The one who dares to be doubtful about my powers." Cindy rest both his hands on my shoulders and I have to keep myself from groaning. "Way to welcome your dear fairy Godmother. I'm very happy to see you, too," he says with an ironic tone.
The neon green hair he wore this morning is now replaced by a deep red, undulated on the edges. His plastic, black outfit sticks to his skin and shines like fresh tar hit by sunlight.
"You know you shouldn't just appear like this, right?" I murmur looking back inside the gymnasium.
"But you're the only one who can see me," he says impatiently, "I already told you." Now he's murmuring too.
He looks inside the gym for a while. "I don't blame you though. He's cute. And your friend was right about him not being into the girl with the baggy yellow shirt," he says. "How can I help you to get him to come outside to talk to you?" He ponders, taping a finger on his chin.
Cindy pulls his magic wand from his hair and presses the tip of the stick of wood at the base of his blood-red lips.
"I can make the others deaf for a moment, then make something explode outside. He'll be the only one to get outside the gym to check and you'll get to talk to him."
I roll my eyes. He can't be serious. "Just don't do anything, Cindy. I can handle this."
He sighs. "My boss wouldn't have picked me to help you and you wouldn't have signed The Contract in that case," he protests. "You have to let me do my work, Jay."
Before I'm able to protest, we hear steps behind me. Cindy is nowhere to be seen when I turn around.
Rafael is standing in front of me. His green eyes seem to pierce through his square glasses and shoot laser beams at me.
"I could swear I heard you having a conversation with someone," he says with a casual tone that throws me off a bit.
I wonder for how long it's reasonable to hold a grudge against a guy who dumped your childhood friend. Granted, Lindsay's not in town anymore, but she really liked the nerd back in middle school. Don't ask me how or why. And against all odds, shy Rafael dumped the poor girl. Since then Mara and I haven't talked to him.
I thought we had become strangers to one another.
I shake my head, but I can't bring myself to form a coherent sentence.
"Anyways, I didn't know you liked to spy on the poetry club," he muses.
"No, no. It's not. I'm not a spy," I say, and he narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side in a questioning way. "I'm actually interested in poetry and I was thinking about maybe coming to see how the club works. I mean, I know the kind of things you do, but like. I mean. . ."
He clicks his briefcase open as I go about my empty rambling and pulls out a sheet then begins scribbling on it. "This is the membership form if you'd like to be a member." He hands it to me. "I've just signed it."
Maybe he senses that I've been bluffing, so he adds, "You don't have to decide now or even fill it in. But you have to be present at one session at least, then you have all the time you need to decide whether or not to come back again. We've had lots of people sign up in the the school year but never once attended a single session. So—"
He smiles tightly even though he seems disappointed. "Anyway, I'm late. Gotta go." He pulls the door open. "So, you're coming?"