Shimmerspell (A Faerie Tale Girl Novella, #1)

Chapter Three

The plan was set. Nervous excitement thrummed through Jensen’s body, causing her bones to dance around in her skin, and making the act of staying seated almost impossible. She’d made up her mind to do the one thing Zoe probably wouldn’t approve of: Steal the stupid pink scrapbook Shelby always lugged around. According to Benji, it was really a slam-book. And since she was dumb enough to bring something like that to school, Jensen was bold enough to use it to her advantage.

She glanced at the clock above Mr. Kelley, the history teacher’s head. Twenty minutes left before class ended. Unable to concentrate, Mr. Kelley’s take on the event that triggered World War I barely registered in her mind. Not that paying attention to his monotone account even mattered. She wouldn’t be around to stumble through the test questions anyway.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Mr. Kelley asked, placing a new lecture sheet on the overhead projector.

Perfect timing. Jensen’s hand flew up.

Mr. Kelley’s dove-gray eyes widened and a smile stretched across his face.

“Ok Ms. Meadows, ask away.”

“Can I use the restroom?”

His smile flattened into a tight line. Motions clipped, he grabbed the tiny wooden hall pass from the podium and held it out to her.

Not meeting his gaze, Jensen took it from his hand and trotted outside.

***

Jensen pressed her back against the hunter green lockers and peeked around the corner. Her eyes met only closed doors, all except for the last classroom near the fire extinguisher. A choral rendition of “The Dog Days Are Over” filled the air, letting her know the glee club was practicing there. And since they were taking it from the top, she doubted anyone would be leaving the room anytime soon.

She eased forward, snagging her navy tank on the ragged hinge of a locker, ripping a tiny hole at the seam near her waist. She bunched the soft fabric in one hand, tore the thread away with the other, and allowed the tangled string to drift down to the cream and gray speckled tile.

After smoothing the tank back down, she tugged at the hem to inspect the damage. Tan skin peeked through the now thumb-size hole. “Great, just great.” She took a deep breath and released the air in a huff, deciding to focus on getting Shelby’s scrapbook.

Jensen strolled up to the locker and grabbed the single-dial padlock as if it were her own. She had never picked one before, but it couldn’t be that difficult.

She pulled the hairpin from her bangs and tucked the overgrown black and violet strands behind her ear.

After shaping the pin into an L, she swirled the dial of the lock clockwise twice and shoved the flat side of the hairpin into the tiny hole, sliding the pin around.

She tugged on the clasp. Still locked. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she grew more frustrated with each passing second. What could I be doing wrong? she wondered.

There was no way she’d be able to stay in the hall much longer. Someone would come out eventually, then the dog days would truly be over.

She closed her eyes and laid her head against the locker, allowing the coolness of the metal to seep into her skin. She imagined her revenge. The black hairpin becoming a skinny bronze skeleton key, the four leaf clover bow cool between her fingers as she slid it into the newly formed keyhole.

A flame sparked in the pit of her stomach, the prickling heat spreading throughout her limbs.

She twisted the key.