Mythfits

25- Ella

As of the end of fourth period, Steve remains unseen, there have been no new English assignments, nobody's turned into a statue, and my classmates show no signs of secretly being the undead; all good things. Unfortunately, not everything is going according to plan, (well, if I had a plan, that is): sometime halfway through third period, someone dropped a textbook on my foot, and it now feels like someone is stabbing my in the foot repeatedly with a knife. That's on fire. With scorpions. A fire-knife wielding scorpion is attacking my foot.

What's even worse, as I hobble gingerly to the cafeteria, Christine decides to join me. And she brings her gaggle with her. When she sits down next to me, I can almost hear her followers thinking to each other through some sort of elite magical mental link, Why are we going near her? Making no attempt to disguise their disgust at me in general, I retaliate in kind, curling my lip in annoyance at their extremely flammable hair (do you really need that much hairspray) and nearly non-existent clothing.

Purposely oblivious, Christine tosses her bookbag on the table and immediately starts talking, so of course the rest of them sit as well, gingerly placing their purses by their feet, like the table is contagious. During the ensuing lunch period, we all sit very stiffly and keep our conversations to a bare minimum. Well, with the exception of Christine, who chatters happily to all of us, like it was so very normal. When the bell rings,signaling the end to lunch, I breathe a silent prayer in relief that it was over. With the parting awkward hug from Christine and disgusted glances from everyone else (to whom I grin at, more of a toothy warning than anything else) we happily part ways and I resolve that from now on to eat in the library.

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When I get home from school, Dad is home (surprise!) and editing some proposal thing on his laptop. Silently, I pull out my homework and join him on the couch, enjoying the peace and quiet. We sit like that for a while, in each other's company, neither of us saying anything. Unfortunately, the peace doesn't last: something above us shuffles and thumps, causing me to jerk, leaving a pencil mark across the page. I identify the noise as Rose moving around in the attic, but I forgot to consider the other person in the room: Dad.

What was that?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion

I shrug nonchalantly, I was getting better at this lying straight up thing, "I don't know. Racoons maybe? I mean, we did store a literal bag of dried corn up there. Who knows what's going to get into that kind of stuff."

Dad simply looks even more confused, "Why is there dried corn in our attic?"

I stare at him blankly, not even sure myself, "That's a good question." he waits, as if for me to continue.

When I don't, he shrugs, "Oh. Well, okay then" and goes back to working.

However, Rose's movement reminds me that I hadn't told Christine about Rose yet. I smile uncharacteristically, imagining her reaction to my ward, which would probably involve cooing and possibly a hair bow. With a shudder at such a thought, I go back to my room and quickly text her, along with a picture that I had taken this morning.

As I had suspected (but sincerely hoped against) Christine demanded that I bring her over. For a second, I debate just ignoring her, but since I'm not really all that sure how to take care of her, I should probably ask her.

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It takes half an hour, a large cardboard box, a roll of bubble wrap, and a package of gummy bears, (don't ask) to sneak Rose out of the house. By the time we get to the woods, (Christine's designated "meeting place") my foot is dead from all the walking around and tripping down stairs while carrying a basilisk. Did you know that baby basilisks are like puppies in that they don't understand stairs? Neither did I.