Page 21 of Elmwood Inclusive Magic Academy
I bolt upright, completely awake. It’s the middle of the day, I can tell by the sunlight streaming through the window. I look over to the other bed, which is empty. I feel strangely disappointed.
Magdalena.
“Oh, sorry - mom, you can come in! It’s just me!”
The door opens, and Lydia is standing in the doorway.
“Afternoon, love,” she says, looking around at my room. “You haven’t even set up your altar?”
I look guiltily at the bare altar, with only my Book of Shadows, a few bottles of salt, and a snoozing Pantalaimon. “I was getting around to it…”
“And what’s this about you destroying one of Professor Tuile’s tarot cards? How did you even manage that, Maggie?”
“Mom, I told you to stop intruding on me while I’m unconscious-”
“Semi-conscious.”
“Semi-conscious. And the tarot card wasn’t my fault, you know that was Astrid’s protection spell…”
“Protection spell?” her brow furrows. “No, the enchanted amulet wouldn’t do that. It would take…” she stops. “Hmm…”
“Mom, what?” I groan. I’m honestly so frustrated with all of this nonsense, and I just want to go back to sleep.
“I…I’m sorry, Maggie,” she sighs. “I didn’t think it through. You definitely didn’t do anything to the card, right?”
“Mom,no, why would I destroy her stupid card?” I rub my eyes, irritated. “She was picking on me, and trying to like, read my aura or something, and then she did the weird thing with the cards and it just disintegrated, ok? I’m trying my best to lay low and just get through this year.”
“Ok, ok…I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have doubted you,” she sits down beside me on the bed. There’s an uncomfortable distance between us. I don’t like it, but I’m too annoyed to take responsibility for it.
She speaks next. “How are you doing? Are you making friends?”
The true answer is ‘sort of,’ but I’m in a bad mood, and I don’t want to give her that satisfaction right now.
“Actually I’m terrible, mom. You basically forced me to come to this bizarre witch school, and I don’t know anything about magic, and the professors keep picking on me, and the shifters are all weird and aggressive, and the witches are being total bitches and now Timothy is probably going to break up with me…”
I didn’t expect to get so upset, but my voice catches and I stop. Lydia’s brow is furrowed, and she reaches out. I pull my hand away and look out the window.
A heavy moment passes between us. There’s a part of me that aches to take her hand, for her to reassure me and make everything better. But I don’t.
“Maggie,” she whispers, softly. “We didn’t mean to punish you. We just want you to…”
I can’t stand the sound of her voice. “Do you have a cellphone?”
“A cellphone?”
“Or a computer?”
“Oh…” she thinks for a moment. “Yes, actually, I think there’s a computer in the professor’s hall…it’s not used often, but…”
“Does it have an internet connection?”
“I don’t know…”
“Can I use it, please?” I look back over at her. Her mouth is set in a concerned frown. “Please mom, I just need to get in touch with Timothy.”
“Ok,” she concedes, but her expression doesn’t change.
My mom shows me to the Professor’s Hall, in an area of the school I haven’t been to yet. It’s a huge, wood-paneled room with a big fireplace and an enormous old painting of some elderly man sitting in a chair. There are a few teachers sitting around on dusty, velvet couches, but I try not to make eye contact with them. My only concern is that I have to contact Timothy and make sure I still have a boyfriend when I finally get out of this place.
