Chapter One

I know exactly where I was when I got the letter. I was in my room, getting some extra homework for the summer done. I grimaced. Homework. On summer break! This was the last time I ever asked my parents to send me to that special school.

My name is Zada. I was adopted, and had no idea who my real parents were. I read as much as I could with dyslexia. I love reading. I'm eleven years old and I have blond hair and eyes that are almost gray, but my mom tells me they're blue, and all my friends say they're green. I live in the smallish town of Redlands in California, and I go to a school called, "Judson and Brown Happy Faces". Like that's true.

But anyway, I was just sitting down to do some homework. I read question one of my history paper:

"1. What was the Civil War really about?"

I opened my history book and sighed. The letters were floating off the page again. Great. Now I can't read. And that's when something soared through my window with a loud squawk.

I looked over at my bed and saw that there was a large, gray owl sitting on my bed. On my bed! But that wasn't the strangest part. What the owl held in its beak was an envelope.

What I could read was a fancy script, saying, "Zdaa Moroe, The Sopt Room, The Top Foolr, 120 Lido Steret, Redlands, CA." And what I could guess was that whoever sent the letter was one of three things: (a) someone who knew me well, (b) someone who was guessing and got lucky, or (c) was a stalker. And also that my dyslexia was lifting up.

I guessed A, probably because that was the more favorable suggestion. I pulled the letter from the owl's beak, he let go pretty easily, and then he flew back through the window.

I looked at it curiously. There was no return address.

A call came from below, "Zada! Zada, it's time for dinner!"

"Just a sec," I called back.

I looked around at my room, at everything that I had ever known. Was all this about to change?

I took one last look and closed the door, letter in my hand, and closed the door to my room, having a premonition that it might be the last time I would ever do so.

Dinner was…dinner. For the thrill seekers. I walked downstairs to the dining room. My father was there. He smiled at me, "Hey, Zada. What were you doing up there?"

"Homework," I replied, kind-of-sort-of-not really truthfully. "Or at least trying to," I added under my breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "It has to stink for you, having dyslexia and ADHD."

I gave him an evil look. "Don't remind me. The ADHD hasn't flared up in years. Don't jinx it."

He smiled again.

Mom came riding out on roller skates with three plates stacked up on her arms like a professional waitress, which she was. "Hope you like burgers!" she said in her usual singsong voice.

I smiled for her sake. I didn't really like burgers. Call me un-American. I have been called that.

My dad, however, had a grin on his face that was bigger than what my super-religious friend would say, "An unbeliever's eyes during the apocalypse." I didn't know what that was supposed to be, other than it was really big.

Mom set a hot dog down at my place. My smile got bigger. These I liked. "Thanks, Mom," I said.

"Yeah," said my dad, burger flying everywhere. "Thanksh a lot, Ab-gail!"

My mother smiled graciously and sat down and took a small bite of her burger. There was never any meat on my mother's burger. Just lettuce, tomatoes, lots of ketchup, and buns. I loved this little quirk. It made my family even more unique.

See, some people say that a school uniform takes people down to the same level. Unless you're me, in which case you are never on the same level as anyone else. I've been kicked out of numerous uniformed schools, I should know. Sometimes there were weird things happening because of someone or something that sided with me, and then things happening because of someone or something that most definitely did not side with me.

In the first category are some really good things that, if not expelling me, at least got me on the wrong side of all the teachers. Once I was being bullied for being nerdy because I passed a test that no one else passed, and I asked him, "What's a nerd?" They explained that it was someone who knew something. "How is that an insult?" I asked. He walked away, confused. And was given a wedgie by air as they went inside. I can't believe I was blamed for that.

In the second category, I have gotten really evil looks from history teachers, English teachers, and math teachers. They don't even seem human to me. Once one of them tried to attack me when I was waiting for my mom, the last kid at school that day, when another teacher held her back, and then dropped away as she grew talons and fangs. I ran home that day, and was expelled for leaving campus without a parent.

I dug into the hot dog. It was good as usual, but I guess I wasn't tearing into it as I usually did.

"What's wrong, Zada?" asked my mom.

"I got a letter today," I said.

"A letter?" asked my dad. "You haven't been downstairs all day. When did you get a letter?"

"Don't say I'm crazy," I warned. "An owl flew into my room and dropped it off."

"An owl?"

"Zada, don't be so—"

"Look!" I showed them both the letter. "My dyslexia's kinda unpredictable right now, so…could you read it to me?" I tried to avoid sounding like a toddler whenever I said that, but I ended up flinching at the stupidity of it every time.

My mother nodded and opened it. "Dear Miss Moore, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Centaur Forest School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.

"Term begins September 1. We await your owl by July 31.

"Yours sincerely,

"Audrey Herwig, Deputy Headmistress."

My eyes were probably bigger than the list of schools I had been kicked out of (which was growing longer every year).

"Well," said my father, clapping his hands and breaking the silence. "That is very big news. Very big." He made a sound that was quite similar to air being let out of a balloon.

My mom said, "I have some big news, too." She looked quite proud of herself, but I had no idea why. "Remember when I went to the doctor's today?"

"Yes?" said my dad.

"Well…" She seemed to be looking for words to say. "Um…I'm pregnant."

If my eyes could have bugged out any more, I'm sure they would've.

My dad fell back in his chair and knocked himself out.

"Of course you can go to Centaur Forest School," said my mom, as if nothing had happened.

"Thanks," I muttered in a very small voice. I slipped out of my chair, a half-eaten hot dog on my plate, and walked upstairs again.