Page 22 of Elmwood Inclusive Magic Academy
I’m certainly not going to end up with that dolphin shifter.
“Here it is,” says my mother. She gestures to a computer, underneath an old cloth on a carved, wooden writing-desk.
“It’s not plugged into anything,” I note, looking underneath it for a cord.
“Hold on a moment,” my mom closes her eyes and holds up her hands, as though she’s holding an invisible globe between them. She breathes in deeply, and a tingle goes up my spine. Her fingers wiggle, and yellow crackles of electricity buzz between her hands, like tiny sparks of lightning.
“Whoa…”
Lydia points her hands towards the computer, and the yellow lightning jumps into the monitor and lights it up. She opens her eyes, then, seeing my expression, winks at me cheekily.
“You’re so ridiculous, mom…” I roll my eyes, but I can’t help thinking that’s a spell I’d like to learn. “Does it have facebook messenger, Instagram or What’s App? Is it even connected to the internet?”
“I have no idea what nonsense you speak of, but it will get you in touch with Timothy,” she replies.
The computer doesn’t seem to be running any software, but the screen is blue with a blinking cursor. Using the dusty keyboard that looks like it’s from the nineties, I type a message to Tim.
Hey it’s Maggie, I lost my phone, but I’m ok. So sry we had a fight. I love you.
I hope that will be enough. I wait anxiously for a moment, then words start to appear on the screen next to mine.
Glad ur ok, what happened?
I breathe a sigh of relief and respond, explaining as best as I can without mentioning demonic spirits or sexy wolf shifters.
Sexy wolf shifters?I push the image of Rae out of my head. I have to focus on winning Timothy back right now.
We chat back and forth, using whatever magical messaging app my mom has summoned. I think I’ve managed to work things out, and a wonderful sense of relief washes over me.
“Maggie, I’ve got to prep for class now,” my mom intervenes, after about ten minutes.
“Ok, ok,” I mutter, letting Timothy know I have to go.
As we cover the computer back up, my mom elbows me.
“You know, there are lots of nice witch boys at this school…”
“Mom, ew, no,” I wrinkle my nose at her, then make my way down to the dining hall for breakfast.
THE WOODEN RING
Maggie
“You’re being weird,” says Persephone, cocking her head and gazing at me with unblinking, judgmental eyes. “Are you nervous because this is your mom’s class?”
“No,” I say, too quickly.
I mean, that is part of it, I suppose. Lydia’s classroom is in the northernmost part of the school, on the first floor. It’s a huge stone room with long wooden tables and benches for seating. There’s an old chalkboard at the front (hazy white from centuries of use, probably), and magical paraphernalia in every corner like an old hoarder lives here. When I saw a full, real skeleton hanging from a hook, wearing a pointed black cap, I almost jump out of my skin.
“Hey, it’s a skittish witch!” laughs the dolphin shifter. “That’s a new one!”
I wish I had a good rebuttal, but honestly, he’s right. I’m not cut out for all this hocus-pocus nonsense.
“It’s very Hogwarts,” I can’t help muttering to myself.
“Ooh, I get that!” squeals Hallie, delightedly. She beams at me. “This is great, nobody else gets my references. They all just look at me like I’m such a weirdo.”
All of the mermaid siblings stare at her quizzically, proving her point.
