High School Magical

Chapter 5

Instead of packing, I slump down onto my bed. My mother busies herself, throwing open the curtains and picking up my dirty laundry. I nibble a granola bar.

A hundred questions bounce like ping pong balls back and forth between my regular life and the one coming for me.

What will I bring?

What about Chelsea?

Do I get a wand?

What about my AP classes?

Are there many people like me?

What about college?

What will I tell my friends?

What does a magically talented person's life look like?

I can't ask Filbert. I can't ask my mother. I can't ask Chelsea.

JJ's image blazes like the bonfire into my mind.

"Last night, I thought I saw my name in the stars," I blurt.

My mother smiles as though not surprised. "In the coming years you may see many things that surprise you given your ordinary upbringing." My mother sits down next to me, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and gives me a side hug. "My sister was born with magical abilities. In other words, they knew for sure right away. With some magical beings, it's that way. With others, like you, we find out later, when they come of age. I suppose it has something to do with maturing and the type of magical gift involved."

My mother looks the same as she always has: same high forehead edged by a scarf that holds back her long braids. Same proud cheekbones, kind eyes, and a grand smile. Her loose, purple cotton tank-dress reveals her strong shoulders and athlete's body from years of running competitively.

However, something is different, as though she's introducing me to a part of herself she's kept hidden all these years. "My sister was a wonderful little girl. We were best friends. She'd make the ordinary enchanted. Then when she got older, things changed. She realized she was different. Rather, that I was different from her and our mother. That's when I started running. I was hoping I could run away from the change."

"Would you run away from me?"

My mother's dark brown eyes meet mine. "Never." She holds me tight, and I inhale her sweet coconut and sandalwood scent. "When we were told that you might have these abilities, we decided it would be best for you to know both sides: the non-magical and magical. That way, if and when the time came, you'd be able to have a greater understanding of the world."

"Understanding?"

"Let's not keep them waiting downstairs. You'll need clothes. They provide a uniform, of course. But casual attire, pajamas... Let's see..." She opens drawers and pulls out socks, shorts, and other items.

"What about Chelsea?"

"Why don't you call her? You can explain that—"

"I don't think I can talk right now." I glance at the clock. "Plus, she's probably already on her way to school. Even if I left now, I'd be late."

My mom smooths my unruly hair. "You won't be late where you're going."

"Even if I didn't want to go, I'd have to?"

"Yes, those with magical talent need to know how to keep themselves and others safe. It's the law."

"Oh. But I can come home on the weekends?"

"I hope you do."

"What if I'm homesick?"

"I imagine you will be. When I left the island for Olympic training, I cried myself to sleep for a full week. I missed my family, of course, but also the sounds of the sea, the smells of curry and plantains, fried patties, and even the fish market. When I look back, I was thankful to have a home I loved so much to return to. If you don't miss us, then we did something wrong." She laughs as she exits to the bathroom for my toiletries.

I text Chelsea, telling her I don't feel well and won't be able to make it to school. Then I delete it because I've never lied to her. I tell her my parents surprised me and are sending me to boarding school, which is closer to the truth. I add that I won't be able to talk until the weekend. Over the years, my parents have traveled a lot so she might assume that it's for their convenience. I hope that she won't wonder why they didn't tell me sooner because if I think about that too long, I find myself wondering the same thing, even if they said it was what made the most sense.

After I get dressed and shower, taking my time because I can't muster up the enthusiasm to leave home and attend a school to cultivate my so-called magical abilities, I plod downstairs to my waiting parents and the pair of CWCs.

"Ready to go?" Minnie asks.

I don't answer and instead stare at my sneakers.

"We'll miss you," my dad says, pulling me in for a hug. "But remember, we're only a half hour away. We'll send care packages and see you on the weekends."

"And family fest," Minnie chimes in.

"Family fest?"

"It's an afternoon when parents and caregivers visit campus, get a tour, and learn about what our students do each day. I think you're going to like Applemoor if you give it a chance," Minnie says knowingly.

I harrumph. How'd I go from Hamilton High School junior to Applemoor wish witch in fewer than twenty-four hours?

My mother takes my hands and squeezes. "Make sure you keep asking questions. Curiosity is everything." Then she gives me quite possibly the longest hug ever.

They wish me luck, and I lug my stuff out to a car that doesn't seem overly witchy. I almost laugh because part of me was expecting a few brooms parked in the driveway. I get into the nondescript sedan. As Minnie pulls away, I wave goodbye as tears gather at the corners of my eyes.

We drive exactly thirty-nine minutes northwest in relative silence. Minnie concentrates as though operating an ordinary car requires the full employment of her non-magical abilities. In other words, she goes as slow as I did when I first got my driving permit.

Margaret snoozes.

My mind races between sulking at this turn of events and being ever so slightly intrigued—at the last moment, I was half expecting everyone to say just kidding, this was a joke.

The car slows further when we reach an iron gate laced with ivy. It's flanked by two brick pillars. Brick walls, also covered in ivy, extend in both directions.

Minnie reaches into her caftan, extracts a wooden wand (it looks exactly like I expect it to, tapered on one end with a slightly wider handle), taps the air while whispering something, and the gate slides open.

It's probably a fancy garage door opener.

Margaret snorts awake and straightens in her seat. The car creeps along a sandstone path lined with willow trees. I'm pretty sure Minnie continues to whisper something as we proceed.

A formidable brick building comes into view, draped in ivy. The campus is quiet. No one hurries here and there like when we visited Princeton with Lila. I wonder how many students there are here. What they're like, classes, the cafeteria—everything my parents and Lila evaluated when deciding which school she was going to.

As the trees thin, several more brick and stone buildings come into view.

Margaret says, "Welcome to Applemoor Academy for the Magically Talented."

It's beautiful, rivaling Princeton's campus. It's like an ivy league or private prep school times two.

I step out of the car. Apple blossoms perfume the air, and it's charged with something. Potential? Possibility? Pie? I'm not sure, but a strange sensation comes over me. The resentment at being sent here vanishes. There's a part of me that feels a little bit excited and another part, though I know it's not sensible, at least not yet, feels like I belong. Like I've come home.

.