I startled awake in the middle of history class by a loud shriek as all the girls in my class ran to the window. I rolled my eyes at their silly mortalness, even if I did peer around some of them to watch the limo pull up to the front of the school. They all ran back to their seats to pull out their mirrors and fix their makeup. The teacher, having three daughters, knew better than to try to stop them. All the guys in the class were groaning and looking out the window enviously as a group of people headed into the school from the limo.
I made a big deal of stretching and yawning just to fill a few boring seconds. I decided now was a good time to organize my backpack, even though I did that almost every history class. Forgive me, but mortal history is just so boring. Magic history, not that, that is interesting.
Do not ask me why I am studying in the mortal world and not the magic world. I kind of, um, blewupthemagicalworld'smaingovernmentbuilding. Twice. I am forbidden to go back to the magical world for twelve months as of last Tuesday. I have to go to some fancy prep school in the mortal world. I am crashing at a castle about twenty minutes away that my aunt bought a few years back and lent to me. She said it is very durable, which is good, because I tend to break things, but only when I use magic. I get really nervous and worried about magic, which makes me mess up. I can be clumsy sometimes, but not as bad as when I am using magic. I get it from my klutz of a dad. My mom is the graceful one, from a long line of respected witches and warlocks. I got the Poof blood while my sister, Elizabeth (we call her Little Liz because she is kind of small for a fourteen year old), is one of the best witches of her age. She is only a year younger than me and we are pretty close. Unlike my mother, she accepts that I am not the best witch and tries to help me.
I jumped, as usual, when the bell rang for lunch. It was a louder bell than the bell for switching classes and higher. All the girls ran out of the room faster than road runners. The guys all kind of sauntered out slowly, trying to act like they were not curious or eager to meet the new student. I was last to leave, of course, because it took me forever to jam my history textbook into my book bag. I had to be careful not to break my wand, even if that would have been better for everyone around me.
I walked to the cafeteria, which was devoid of all girls except for a few Goth girls who were too busy being sad and depressed to care about anything else. I took a tray and slid it down the rack as food was put on my plate. I heard yelling and shouting down the hallway and turned to watch a sea of people spill through the open doors of the cafeteria. The throng of people seemed to split to reveal a few reporters and photographers surrounding a teenage boy. He was seventeen, very attractive, athletic looking, and smiling like a movie star. I knew what his name was: Brent Carall. He was the son of one of the most famous lords. Ever since it had been announced at the end of last week that he was going to our school for seventh year none of the girls could shut up about it.
A woman who was about forty hurried in behind Brent to push aside the reporters while the principal showed him around. A boy with short spike dirty blond hair appeared beside Brent, smiling with an equal amount of charm. I thought I had heard about him. He was Justin Wright, Brent's best friend. The two were paparazzi favorites apparently. Justin was apparently going to attend our school, too. He was already breaking the dress code with a loose tie, no sports jacket, and rolled up sleeves. I scoffed, knowing he was not going to get in trouble for it because of his status in the public eye.
"Pretty pathetic, isn't it, Carly?" the last lunch lady asked me as she placed a piece of bread on my plate. "I can tell you those two are not getting one piece of my pecan pie, that's for sure. I don't feed divas."
I laughed at the kind lunch lady whose name I was not remembering at all and went to an empty table to sit down. There were a lot to choose from so I chose the one farthest away from the door. I pulled my long brown hair back before starting in on the bread I had gotten. I twirled my spoon in my fingers like a mini baton, watching my gray eyes appear and disappear as it spun. It does not take much to amuse me and this was doing the trick.
I barely even noticed the crowd had left until I finished my bread, finally looking up. The last of the people were leaving through the doors. I thought about the glimpse I had gotten of Brent Carall. He had a cocky grin and a look in his eye like he knew whatever he asked for would be given to him. Girls fell at his feet everywhere and his daddy could buy him anything. I knew he owned one of the most expensive sports cars in the country. His friend, Justin Wright, apparently lived with him but was not as popular because he was not the biological son of the lord. I thought of the older woman I had seen with Brent. It was probably his nanny or something, which proved he was irresponsible and needed to be looked after.
Throughout the rest of the day I saw Brent and Justin everywhere, followed by the reporters and a student to guide them. It was a girl student that Brent had his arm around a lot. I could tell from the look he was giving other girls that that poor girl would have her heart broken by tomorrow. I rolled my eyes at both the stupidity of Brent and the girl.
After school I went to a meeting to plan for the school dance. I figured that if I was stuck going to this school I might as well try to make the best of it, maybe even help out a little. The meeting was being run by one of the seventh years who seemed to be in charge of everything. I never learned his name but I know he always seemed to be in charge of everything. I jumped a little, startled, when he slammed the gavel on the top of the table.
"Quiet down," he ordered.
I looked around the room at everyone, all of which had been silent since they entered the room. To my surprise I saw Brent and Justin at the corner of the table. Brent saw me look at him and winked at me. Pig, I thought, turning back to face the guy in charge. He started doling out responsibilities as people volunteered for them.
"I need someone in charge of drinks," he said. "Who hasn't volunteered yet?"
I raised my hand.
"Okay, you. Name?"
"Carly Poof," I said, blocking out people's laughter as I said my name. I really do not know what people find funny about my name.
"Alright, Carly, you're down for drinks. Who else hasn't volunteered?"
Brent and Justin raised their hands simultaneously, like their arms were one in movement. Ugh, they probably had some bromance thing going. Mortal guys are so weird. Then again, magic guys are not too different.
"Okie-dokie." What straight guy says okie-dokie? I saw this same question appear on the face over everyone else in the room. "Brent and Justin are down for drinks."
"Yippee," I mumbled under my breath.
"Meeting adjourned."
He slammed the gavel on the table again and I jumped, startled, again. I startle and scare very easily, especially with loud noises. You would think I would have gotten used to them by now after all the explosions I have caused in my life. All by accident, of course. Who knows what would happen if I tried to blow something up on purpose.
On my way out of the classroom Brent and Justin tried to call for me to wait. I just kept walking, ignoring them. I started ranting in my head about how unlucky I was to have to work with the pig, no the beast, that was Brent Carall.