Chapter One
November
For the first time in months, Anna Starr
Emerson was the last thing on my mind. Picture this: me boogying my buns off at
the Peacock Flats H.S. winter formal with none other than . . . are you ready?
Cory Philpott! Yes, the very same pimply-faced, pudgy-around-the-middle,
butt-ugly inside and out Cory Philpott, who delighted in shaking a can of soda
so it would explode in my face and make a mess out of my only decent outfit,
and then bray his donkey laugh. Yeah, that Cory. Weird, huh?
If I’ve learned one thing in my short life,
it’s this: people are not always what they seem. Take me, for example. Until
recently, I didn’t know I had magic abilities. Or that I had faery blood. Or
that I had a twin sister. See what I mean? And now, Cory, who’d made my life a
living hell for two years until I scared him straight, was gazing at me with
what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. Oh, did I forget to mention
Cory Philpott was now tall and lean with unblemished skin and blond, non-greasy hair? Yeah, it sounds like a
total lie. But Cory was proof. Miracles do happen.
As soon as school was over last June, Cory’s
father, Deputy Sheriff Richard Philpott, shipped him off to a boot camp for
obnoxious bullies. Apparently, it was worth the time and money, because Cory
came back a new person. Turned out my neighbor and best friend, Mercedes
Trujillo, was right. She’d been saying for years, “He’s mean to you because he likes you, girl.”
I was deeply suspicious at first, waiting for
the real Cory to show up. When he called to ask me to the dance, I said,
“Sorry, no.” After a long silence in which he breathed heavily into the phone,
he said, “Okay, I get it. You’re waiting for me to apologize for all the mean
things I did to you.”
Actually I wasn’t, but it sounded good. “That’s
right.”
“Allie, I’m sincerely sorry for all the stuff I
did to you. I’m a new man now.”
“Prove it,” I said.
“Huh?”
For the record, let me state, I hate bullies,
and Cory had been one of the very worst. So, it was a huge stretch for me to
believe he’d changed in a few short months. I decided to give him one more
test.
“You used to pick on Mercedes and Manny all the
time. Apologize to both of them. It better be real. I’ll know if it isn’t,
because I want to be there when you do it.”
Does it
sound like I was tormenting him? Trust me; it wasn’t nearly as bad as the stuff
he used to do to my best friend and her brother, Manny. And, since neither of
them had a mean streak, guess who got to defend them? That would be their next
door neighbor, good old Allie Emerson, who not only had a teensy mean streak,
but also a few magic tricks up her sleeve. Let’s just say Cory had been the
recipient of some of my magic and, as a result, gave me the respect I deserved.
The phone went silent for so long, I wondered
if he’d hung up or passed out from shock.
“Cory? You still there?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a groan in his voice.
The boy
was definitely suffering. Since I believed in karma, I tried not to feel sorry
for him. I knew one thing for sure. No way would I be going to the dance with
Cory.
“I’ll do it. Tomorrow after school.”
My mouth dropped open. Finally, I stammered,
“Well, that’s just great, Cory.”
The next day, he followed up on his promise.
Surprisingly, he managed a fairly decent apology. Even though he’d mumbled a
little, he looked squarely into the eyes of both Manny and Mercedes Trujillo.
“Sorry for all the shit I pitched at ya. I’m different now. Okay?”
Mercedes, who had the kindest heart in the
whole world, was ready to forgive him. Me? Not so much.
“Could you please be more specific?” I said.
Sweat broke out on Cory’s upper lip. “Um, like
how?”
“I seem to remember you hurling degrading
ethnic comments at Manny and Mercedes.” Geez, I sounded exactly like my English
teacher, Mrs. Burke.
Cory’s eyes rolled upward as if looking for an
answer from above. Mercedes giggled. Manny caught my gaze and winked.
Finally, Cory said, “Oh, yeah, I get it. I
think.” He leaned close and whispered in my ear. I nodded.
Once again, Cory made eye contact with Manny
and Mercedes. “Manny,” he said, “Sorry I called you a taco snapper. Mercedes, I know I said you were a big-ass
beaner. That was wrong of me. Sorry.”
Mercedes flung her arms open. Cory leaned
forward from the waist and allowed himself to be hugged, even though he looked
extremely uncomfortable. Manny and Cory shook hands. As the impartial judge, I
watched it all, trying to decide if he really meant it. But then, he looked at
me with those puppy dog eyes. “Was that okay, Allie?” After that, I couldn’t
turn him down.
Junior Martinez would have been my first
choice, but he couldn’t go to the dance because he was thousands of miles away.
My former boyfriend, Beck, had moved on. I know, I know, it sounds like I have
a whole stable of hot guys just dying to take me out. Not true.
Beck Bradford and I had been an item last year.
He was now a freshman at the University of Washington in Seattle and a pre-med
student. He didn’t get home that often, but we talked on the phone a lot. I
considered him one of my best friends. Junior had become a huge TV star in
Mexico and was now making movies, so he was in and out of Peacock Flats.
It’s not like a lot of other guys were asking
me to the dance, and really, I did want to go. I still had my Peacock Flats
Fruit Bowl queen dress, so why waste it? Cory, in his new incarnation, would
have to do. I just hoped and prayed he wouldn’t revert to form and slip ice
cubes down the front of my dress. So far, so good.
Still moving to the music, I looked across the
gym and spotted Mercedes with her new boyfriend, Gilbert Valencia. Total
opposites, they made a cute couple. Mercedes was short and fluffy with a
permanent smile. Tall, thin and geeky, Gilbert was so smart he was in advanced everything. He’d won the Washington
State Young Scientist of the year award for his breakthrough study on
earthquake prediction. Imagine, a kid from a high school with 92 students
beating out kids from wealthy districts like Mercer Island and Bellevue.
There’s even a sign outside our school that says, “HOME OF WASHINGTON STATE’S
YOUNG SCIENTIST OF THE YEAR.”
When the music stopped, Cory said, “I’ll get
some punch and cookies.”
I nodded and pointed at the back wall where all
the chaperones were lined up. “I’ll go say hello to Mr. Hostetler.”
At the mention of our principal’s name, Cory
blinked nervously. He’d spent most of last year getting reamed out by Mr.
Hostetler. I placed a hand on Cory’s arm.
“It’s okay. I’ll tell him you’ve
changed.”
Cory blushed. “Thanks, Allie.”
Frowning, Mr. Hostetler pushed away from the
wall when I approached. “How ya doing, Allie? I was surprised to see you with
Cory Philpott.”
“Mr. Hostetler,” I said sternly. “People do
change. You know that, right?”
He thought about it for a while and nodded.
“Sure do. Take Chad, for example. He’s like a different kid. Did I tell you
he’s into soccer now?”
I bit back a smile. “That’s great.”
Actually, Chad Hostetler was a different kid. The original Chad was a changeling and, last
summer, I’d helped switch faery Chad and human Chad. Faery Chad was now
flapping his frilly wings in Boundless, aka Faeryland, and human Chad had taken
his place in the Hostetler family.
It had
worked out well for both Chads. So well, in fact, Mr. Hostetler and his ex-wife
were making an effort to get back together. Of course, that left my mother,
Faye, without a boyfriend, since she and Mr. Hostetler had been dating at the
time. Personally, I was relieved. The
whole idea of my mother and my principal as a couple struck me as totally
unnatural.
Like he knew what I was thinking, Mr. Hostetler
lowered his voice and said, “How’s your mother?”
I waved a hand. “Oh, she’s fine. She’s out with
her girlfriends tonight.”
I didn’t want Mr. Hostetler to think my mom was
sitting home, crying over him. In spite of my casual tone, the thought of Faye,
the Queen of Bad Relationships, prowling around looking for a new boyfriend
made my blood turn to ice.
It’s not like she wasn’t there to get me
prepped for the big dance, though. She did my hair and then snapped pictures of
Cory and me, all decked out in our fancy clothes, just like a regular mom. And,
she’d made arrangements for me to spend the night with Kizzy.
Mr. Hostetler looked bummed. “So she’s moved
on.” He sighed. “Well, that’s probably a good thing.”
I squirmed, trying to think of something to say
unrelated to my mother’s love life. Finally I spotted Cory approaching with a
bunch of cookies in one hand and two glasses of punch in the other. He sidled
up to us, like he wanted to offload the goodies and then make a run for it.
“Cory Philpott!” Mr. Hostetler boomed. “Keeping
your nose clean?”
Cory jumped about a foot in the air. I grabbed
the punch before it could slop onto the floor. We exchanged puzzled looks. What
did a clean nose have to do with anything? Since Cory seemed to be tongue-tied,
I spoke up. “Clean as can be. Right, Cory?”
“Oh, yeah, real clean.”
“Good, good,” Mr. Hostetler said. “You drive
real careful when you take this young lady home. Ya hear me?”
Cody glanced over at me with before answering,
“Yes, sir.”
He
looked so nervous, I took pity on him. “Let’s go find a place to sit down. See
you Monday, Mr. Hostetler.”
When we got a few steps away from the wall,
Cody put an arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m really glad you didn’t
tell Mr. Hostetler that my dad won’t let me drive yet.”
“No problem. You should have mentioned Charlie
and the limo.”
Cody relaxed and smiled. “Yeah, I should have.”
When my friend, Kizzy Lovell, found out Cory
couldn’t drive, she insisted on sending her driver, Charlie, to pick us up.
He’d take us home as well. Kizzy was an elderly lady, at least fifty or sixty,
and never learned to drive. She had tons of money and hired Charlie to drive
her around. Oh yeah, and Kizzy’s the person who gave me the moonstone pendant
hanging around my neck. The moonstone, with its magical qualities, has taken me
to places almost impossible to describe. Boundless, for one.
At the stroke of eleven, everyone poured out of
the gym. Charlie pulled up, jumped out of the car and opened the back door for
us. When the laughter and rowdy comments started, I realized Cory still had
enemies.
“Whoa, Philpott, look at you!”
“Your daddy hire a limo for you?”
“Maybe he should have picked you up in his cop
car. You and your trailer trash girlfriend could ride in the back.”
I brushed off the comment about my living
arrangements and focused on Cory. Eyes flashing with fury, he stepped aside to
let me in the back seat and turned to face his tormentors. “Back off!”
A tall , slim man dressed in the brown uniform
of a county deputy stepped between Cory and the taunting crowd. Startled by his
sudden appearance, I looked around for his car. No car. Still muttering, the
boys who’d been bugging Cory backed away. The man spun to face us and I gasped.
Tall and skeletal, he had gray eyes flecked with gold, high cheekbones and long
white-blond hair pulled back and fastened with a rubber band. He smiled
briefly, revealing an extraordinary number of small pointed teeth. I glanced
over at Charlie, who, other than glaring at the crowd, didn’t seem bothered by
the man’s appearance.
The strange looking deputy placed a hand on
Cory’s arm. “get in the car, lad. Forget about those gents.”
Still stiff with anger, Cory slipped in beside
me. Charlie shut the door and hurried around to the driver’s side. Another
disaster averted, at least for now.
We rode in silence for a while before I asked,
“Who was that guy? A new deputy?”
Cory’s brows shot up in surprise. “You talkin’
about Jim Simpson? Nah, he’s been around for ages.”
Jim Simpson? I knew Jim Simpson, and that
person was not Jim Simpson. I sighed. Weird stuff was happening again. No big
surprise. Story of my life.
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