Spell Book & Scandal

Chapter Eight

Even though my spells are usually total crap, when I sneak back into my house around one, nothing moves and nobody comes out to yell at me. The old stairs are silent under my feet, but I don't dare breathe until I'm back in my room with the door closed softly behind me. Then I exhale slowly, sagging against the door and pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes.

Jeremiah had been exhilarated on the train ride back to our neighborhood, talking about how awesome the night had been and bragging about how much he was going to dominate when I let him use some of my spells. He'd bumped my shoulder when he'd said that, and warmth had flooded my body, so instead of telling him that my spells weren't likely to do him much good, I had just smiled and scooted closer to him on the seat. He'd draped an arm casually around my shoulders, and I'd leaned into him, thrilled that I was finally, finally out with the guy I'd been dreaming about for years, even though a little voice inside my heart warned me that he might not be interested in me once he found out that I couldn't scribe to save my life.

I can't tell him yet, I think wearily as I kick off my shoes and change out of my clothes. Maybe once we spend some more time together, he won't mind so much about the spells.

I pull my pajamas on, but I don't bother going out to the bathroom to brush my teeth; it seems like a miracle that no one heard me come in, and I don't want to push my luck. When I crawl under the covers, scenes from the evening dance through my mind, but I keep circling back around to Sampson in with the lions and the lioness's hungry stare. Even though I'm dead tired, I can't sleep, and when my alarm finally rings, I've resigned myself to being a walking zombie at school today.

"Why couldn't they do the spell battle on the weekends?" I groan as I shuffle toward the bathroom to shower. I'm not usually up first, and I take advantage of the quiet by taking an extra long shower; usually, Christina beats me into the bathroom and uses up all the hot water, but today, she's the one who's going to have a chilly shower. I grin under the water, not caring when soap gets in my mouth.

By the time I turn the water off, Christina's banging on the door, and I can hear Mom and Dad moving around, too. I sigh, wiping the steam off the mirror and studying my face. I look a lot like Christina and Mom, and that used to make me happy, but now that I know I'm the defective one in the family, I wish I didn't resemble them so much; every time I look in the mirror, it's like my genetics are reminding me just how different I am from both my mom and my perfect sister. Just once I'd like to wake up and have things feel different.

Christina barges in while I'm brushing my teeth, and I glare at her in the mirror. "I'm not done," I say with a mouthful of toothpaste, gesturing down to the large towel that's still wrapped around me.

"I heard the water stop, so I figured you wouldn't mind if I got in here." She stands there with her hands on her hips as if she's waiting for me to do something. "Can you hurry up?"

Resisting the urge to ram my toothbrush down her throat, I finish up and head for the door. "All yours, your majesty."

She rolls her eyes. "You better not have used up the hot water!"

Even though you do every day? "Whatever."

I slam the bathroom door behind me, but the sound of the shower starts up, and I doubt she even notices.

Back in my room, I stare at my closet for a few minutes. Given the fuss my family made about me wearing pink yesterday, I don't want to draw even more attention by decking myself out in magical colors like I did last night with Miah, but especially now that Miah's noticed me, I can't go back to my ridiculous attempt to differentiate myself from my sister by my clothes. I sigh, deciding on a lavender T-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans. Not exactly pink, but not too obvious, either. I twist my long hair away from my face and use a clip to hold it in a messy knot at the back of my neck, and then I pause. Miah didn't seem to notice the effort I put into looking perfect last night, but the necklace I'd worn is still out on my dresser, and after a beat, I slip it over my head and check my reflection in the mirror. I grimace.