Chapter 10

Walking through the doors to the school I’m lost in a sea of nameless faces. I set about finding my first class. The school is like any other school, lockers lining the halls, students huddled together, gossiping, and whispering. They each fall silent as I walk by. No guessing what they are talking about, the new girl.
I find my first class, potions. Even after the events that occurred yesterday, I’m still finding it hard to process that magic exists, along with a new world of beings.
Mr. Johnson introduces me to the class; my face grows hot because of the unwanted attention. All eyes are on me, studying me with fascination.
I guess they don’t get many newcomers.
Mr. Johnson indicates that I should sit next to Justin, who will be my partner for the school year. My heart skips a beat. Seeing the test tubes and other scientific equipment on the desks, I grin to myself. Misty gives me a small wave as I pass, I turn away still angry and hurt by her betrayal.
Taking my seat, Justin smiles at me. My breathing becomes heavy. Yesterday I did not notice how good looking he really is, with his sun kissed skin, and hazel eyes that I can easily get lost in; they shine with interest. Blond messy hair drifts over his eyes. I want to brush the hair away and feel its texture. Never have I ever wanted to do that to anyone. He has broad shoulders and a lean body covered by a white t-shirt that is tight in all the right places, not leaving much to the imagination. He looks like a surfer with a beach body.
Justin grins at me. Realizing I am staring, my cheeks begin to heat. I quickly look away, letting my hair fall into my face to hide my embarrassment.
Mr. Johnson begins the class. We are to make a healing salve. “Where are you from?” Justin has been asking me questions for the last ten minutes.
“America.” I place a yellow weed into a glass container. It looks like the one in the textbook.
“What was it like there?” He beams a dazzling smile that creates a slight dimple in his left cheek.
“A lot different than here. Well let’s just say the people were different.” Saner. But I keep that thought to myself.
Justin laughs, and sprinkles what looks like dirt into the container.
“The people here are not that bad, well, some of us are not. I was hoping you were going to say London. Somewhere exciting.” What would be exciting about London? The busy and overcrowded streets is not what I would call exciting, more like frustrating.
“Look at her eyes,” I hear a girl say. I tilt my head letting my hair fall over my face.
“Oh my god, have you seen the way she stared at Justin,” Another girl says.
“Her eyes are defiantly freaky,” a third girl chimes in.
I lower my head and try to drown out the chatter that I know is indicated at me, to no avail.
Tears brim to the surface. My heart feels heavy and my shoulders sag. I keep my head down.
I’m never going to fit in. I don’t belong here.
It is not the first time that others have made fun of my eyes.
When I was ten and in primary school a girl commented on my eyes. Sometimes they change colour from a striking bright blue to a green the colour of fields in the springtime, vibrant and shocking.
The children would call me “Freak” or “Cat eyes.” When I didn’t answer, or ignored them, they would taunt me, asking, “Has the cat got your tongue?”
For as long as I can remember I have found it hard to make friends or to build friendships with people. I have this strange fear deep within me. Then Misty came along she wouldn’t take my one-word answers. Many of the other more popular students tried befriending her but she politely declined, choosing to sit with me at lunch coaxing me out of my shell.
I began to look forward to seeing her at school. Slowly I let myself go, allowing a friend in.
My heart becomes heavy thinking of Misty; she was never my friend. I have been just a job, an order from my grandmother.
Pushing thoughts of Misty away, I remember when I asked Clara if anything was wrong with me.
She told me that they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. She told me that the other children were only jealous and that they wished to have eyes as striking as mine. “People are all the same. You can only get judged by what you do, what paths you choose in life.”
Remembering her encouragement, a smile creeps onto my face.
Not concentrating on what I’m doing, I pick up a white test tube not bothering to read the label. At the last second Justin shouts., “STOP!”
Too late, the liquid fills the container. Instantly smoke rises as popping and crackling noise echoes around the now silent room. The container explodes, sending glass and a green gooey substance that looks like snot flying in all directions. Without thinking on impulse, I throw my hands in front of my face to shield me from the flying shards of glass. The room explodes into screams.
A putrid smell, mixed with the smell of smoke, makes me gag. It is horrendous.
“She did that on purpose!” A tall skinny girl with long blond hair cries. Stomping towards me, I notice she has tiny cuts along her forearms, the contents of the container dripping from her bleached hair and smeared across her cheeks. Her two minions’ step closer, also covered in goo.
“Do you have any idea how much this cost, you will pay for this!” she screams, her face red.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean too,” I whisper. It was truly an accident, but I doubt she will ever believe that. I have seen girls like her before, girls who believe they are the queen bee. I had one at my last school and she could be nasty at times to get what she wanted. I am guessing this girl is no different.
Misty bursts out laughing. Other students join her, all crowding around to take a better look at the girls covered in goo.
Mr. Johnson holds a stony face as he yells for the class to hush. “Girls, go get yourselves cleaned up,” The girls scuttle from the room. The lead girl gives me a haunting glare as she leaves.
“Kayla, I am hoping that it was indeed an accident. We do not tolerate any kind of mischievous behaviour or pranks in this school,” Mr. Johnson keeps his gaze locked on me for a few moments, which makes me squirm. I feel guilty even though I know it was an accident. I should have paid more attention.
The class take their seats and continue with the experiment. I let Justin take the lead, not trusting myself with the simple task.
Finally, the bell rings signalling the end of class, quickly, I pick up my few items and race for the door utterly embarrassed.
“Wait.” Misty pulls on my arm, turning me until I face her. “Can I walk you to your next class; I have a free period, so it won’t be a problem.” Not waiting for me to answer she takes my schedule out of my hands and grimaces.
This cannot be good.
I use my poker face, hiding all my emotions, not ready to forgive Misty yet.
“Defence and then martial arts with Mr. Michael. Good luck, my brother can be a bit intense. He takes training way too seriously.”
Her brother, great, I inwardly groan. Just what I need.
“Chris and James both work here, James works here part time when he is not on assignment, and Chris will be graduating at the end of the year. He is a smart ass so the classes he has passed he doesn’t have to attend, giving him time to help out in other classes.” She talks as we walk through the hallways not caring that I have not said anything in return. One thing about Misty is she never gives up. She will not stop until I talk to her again.
We come to two large red doors Misty pushes them open. I take a sharp intake of air. Instantly the air around me changes. I can almost hear the buzz and crackle of the static in the air. My skin prickles and tingles all over, starting at the palm of my hand.
What is with this scar?
Chris stands rigid, his palms clenched into fist. The look on his face is not appealing. In fact, it scares me.

When I meet his gaze, I feel drawn into his eyes. The icy blueness generates a feeling like I am being pulled into a lake of frozen emotions. I can tell by his body language that he does not like me.
His jaw is clenched.
My eyes must really freak everyone out. I suddenly become self-conscious and look at the ground hoping that my eyes are now concealed from his view.
“Maybe I will see you at lunch if you want. I will meet you outside the canteen, and Chris, go easy on her.” Noticing the look on her brother’s face, Misty almost runs out of the gym. I do not blame her; I want to do the same.
“You need to stretch,” he says, his words strained.
I like to run and stretching is a part of my routine. The gym is like a typical high school gym, climbing ropes, balancing beams, yoga mats, stretching bars. I walk towards the stretching bars. They will allow me to stretch my muscles more.
Stretching my muscles, I easily fall into my own routine. The room is so quiet I forget I am not alone.
“Bang!” I jump and lose my balance, landing firmly on my rear. My cheeks burn instantly. The source of the bang is a punching bag. The bag is easily bigger than me.
“I need to see what you can do. You can start by punching the bag.”
I inch closer slowly. He wants me to just punch a bag, not that bad I suppose.
“You can start when you’re ready, but today would be nice,” he snaps. I glare at him, he seriously as an attitude problem.
“Don’t I need gloves or something?” I snap back.
“If someone attacked you in the street, do you think they would wait while you put gloves on, so you don’t break a nail?”
Fine, I will punch the stupid thing, Mr. I will be obeyed. Pulling my arm back, I take a swing, which on impact causes my whole hand to hurt. The bag does not move an inch. Feeling embarrassed, and his eyes on me, I try again with my left hand. I’m met with the same result.
“Pretty pathetic if you ask me,” he barks.
“NO one asked you,” I shoot back. I fold my arms over my chest like a child having a tantrum. He infuriates me.
God, please, give me patience. If you give me strength, I am going to punch him in the face.
“Try climbing the ropes.” I march over to the ropes.
I got this one.
I have never actually climbed a rope before. But it looks easy enough. I was wrong. I make it about three feet off the ground. My arms struggle to pull me any higher.
I have seen people use chalk on their hands to get a better grip, but I doubt he will let me have any. This went on for the whole two hours, me trying the different activities and failing miserably. Meanwhile, Chris makes remarks on my inability. No wonder his sister ran, I would do the same thing, I want nothing more than to put distance between us.