1-Wicked
Malory
"You seriusly think this will work?"
"Liz, your such. A. Dibby. Doubter. Of course it will work."
"Last time you said that, G'lory,we ended up with a month of detention. I'm dropping."
"Wha- But this is my best idea ever! I'm tellin you we'll be rich, Liz!"
" Yeah, G'lory? Cause I'd rather be safe and lonly then being rich and stuck into detention! Or better yet, suspended! I want Yale, G'lory. You want nothin but jail. In the bible, they say those who are greedy are wicked. G'lory, that's the lable I'll give to you. Wicked. "
"Liz, wait, please wait, Liz!!!"
But Liz was already running through the hallway, hearing G'lory's calls, and turning her head to look back, but never stopping.
"Liz!" G'lory screamed again.
I sat straight up in my bunk bed. Since I slept on the top bunk, the cealing and my head made contact before I realized they would, and I erupted in pain.
My mom materialized next to my bed.
"Malory, that's gonna be an awfly big bump. Want ice?"
"Sure."
"Here you go." She was holding the icepack on my head. "So honey, what's the matter? More nightmares about you and Liz?" Another mother-daughter talk.
"Yea, mom, yea."
"She was screaming stuff at me like 'G'lory's wicked' or 'G'lory's goin to jail."
"Pet. Have some breakfast. Pancakes? Waffles? Toadlegs?"
"Mom-"
"Fine, oh fine, cereal. You need to expand your horizons. Get a little crazy. You need to try new things. They won't serve cereal at Witch U. "
Mom was right. They sold corn muffins. But I learned that it's better to let mom be right.
I went to school alone.
Right before Liz moved, me and my ex best friends had a huge fight. It started over some huge party. We had been talking about, or rather arguing about, which dress Ruth should wear to the dance. It spiraled out of control when the dress the majority of four judges agreed on was claimed by Alex. She said it would impress her soon-to-be boyfriend. Apparently Mia had a crush on that boy, too. Then when the rest of us tried to break up their fight, it got completly out of control. Me fighting Liz was the last thing that we went through. It was the last time I saw her. Then she moved to New York to live with her evil stepmother.
I could try to make up with Mia or Alex. But me and Mia never truly clicked and got along. And me and Ruth never found anything in common the whole time we were friends.
Me and Alex could get along. She's into the supernatural and stuff. I am supernatural. We should get along. We just never tried to be friends. So today I had no one to turn to.
Did I mention that I'm a witch? Yea, maybe I forgot to mention that. I want to go to Witch U this fall. I qualify because I am a witch, and a top ten spellcaster. I can definatly get in. High school is just a game for me. I mean, I live about a thousand years. My mom is 300. Thank goodness she only looks about 40. So my teen life, which goes normaly, with acne and boyfriends and all that. I age regular. Well, at least when I want to.
So this was kind of a game. But I still felt terrible, because this is definatly real life.
I was suddenly sliding into a seat in history. "Malory Genvives, do you have your report on a product of the industrial revolution?"
I didn't.
"Hurry and get it out."
I could use magic to write the report.
"Three, two, one, where's your report, Genvives?"
"Umm, still looking."
I was pretending to shuffle through my oversized bag.
"Genvives, principles office. Now."
I seriusly hate Mrs. Berkmen.
I got up from my desk, turned, marched to the door under Berkmans glower, opened the door, then slammed it shut.
I started down the well worn path. To the principle.
I wanted to scream. Or strangle Berkman. Or no, better yet, turn her into a toad!
I walked up to the door. I shouldn't be scared. I'm the girl who wanted to start a mail system for notes.
Using lockers.
Boy, did I get it that time.
I shouldn't be scared.
I've seen this place so many times.
I opened the door.
"Mallory, sit."
Mr. Tate.
The principle.
"What did you do this time?"
"Well, I lost an essay. And Mrs. Berkmen happened to pick me. To read mine aloud."
"Malory."
That meant give it up. Go back to class. Two weeks of detention.
"Mr. Tate!"
"Malory, go!"
I wouldn't get up.
"Go!"
I stayed still.
I knew how to do this spell.
Mr. Tate's chair started spinning.
"What the-"
The chair stopped.
"What just happened?"
"You, well, I don't know."
"Okay, Malory, go back to class. No detention. Just because you couldn't find a paper in thirty seconds doesn't mean that you should get detention."
"You can go."
I left.
I wondered now.
Am I wicked?
