Cheer-Streaked: A Westbridge Over-Drama

by The Jessica X

Sabrina the Teenage Witch and all other characters are © Archie Comics / Hartbreak / Paramount / Whatever.
This work of fiction is © myself.

Chapter 4: Fine Cauldron Of Fish

"That totally sucks."

"Cee Cee, you always state the obvious," Jill snapped. "What we need is a plan, a way out."

"Oh, girls," I said with a sigh, "I've already given up on this. Don't you recognise the 'I'm just venting' tone in my voice?"

"Sorry," Cee Cee said. "Then you're really going through with it?"

"Obviously." I bent forward to apply another coat of Fairy Dust to my toenails (the watery crap was lighter than it looked in the bottle), but I almost lost the phone. "Oh, shoot!"

"What?"

"Nothing," I said, readjusting. "Anyway, it's crazy; she keeps calling me like we're bee-eff-eff or something, and all because she's freaking over this project. We have four weeks left! I mean, if she's that worried about getting everything done in time, she should just finish it herself and stop stressing me over it, right?"

"That little freak should be put on a leash," Jill said, snickering.

"We discussed the snickering," I said, but then I heard a beep. "God, there she is again... hang on, let me take this." Click. "Hello?"

"Hey, Libby!" Yep, it was the persistent freak. "I know I'm bothering you again, but what do you think about making our own aromatics? You know, perfume. Is it too fourth-grade, or can we make it look good with enough research?"

"You're interrupting a critical step in the beautification process," I snapped.

"Facial?"

I was actually too annoyed to say anything but the truth. "Toes."

"Sorry, I'll let you move on to drying and promise I won't call you for at least another hour, but while I've got you...?"

"Sure, perfume, great."

"You sure? I mean, we could always go with the standard volcano, or a tornado in a bottle. Or if you're feeling braver, this one time I saw Mr. Wizard do this thing with potatoes and semiconductors..."

"Mr. Who?"

"Uh... nevermind. I guess we can sleep on it. Well, talk to you later!"

"Please don't." Click. "Guys, you still there?"

"Yeah," Jill said. "That took long enough."

"What a Geekzilla!" I cried, mostly to the ceiling. "How am I going to get through this?!"

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Yes, in less than one week Safreakna had managed to become The Lab Partner From Hell. She was constantly bouncing project ideas off me, and even though I'm sure she ran and complained to Kinkle and Dorkhead about how difficult I was being, she was all sunshine and rainbows around me. If I weren't made of sturdier stock, the rainbows would have rubbed off... or killed me.

To spare you a few more days of wishy-washiness, we finally went with the perfume; it was easy, and at least it wasn't a stupid volcano. But even then, she wasn't satisfied; she wanted to discuss materials, and presentation, and wardrobe (I definitely had something to say there), and even if we should try to use flavourless toothpaste on the day of the fair so people wouldn't be smelling minty freshness when they were trying to smell our project. Geez, listen to that: "smell our project". Must this kind of stuff happen to me?

It was a Friday when she finally proposed the ridiculous.

"Not now, not ever!"

"But we need to!" The librarian shushed her, and she lowered her voice further. "We've only got three weeks left, and all we have is a dozen Ziplocks of smelly stuff and this notebook full of vague ideas!" She brandished it at me.

"'Harvey plus Sabrina equals heart'?" I read off the cover. She quickly put it away. "At least we're focused, aren't we?"

"Oh, I've had this since Mr. Poole, and you know how he used to drone."

"Fair enough." I sat back. "But I'm still not setting foot in your house ever again."

"Well, we could do it at your h-"

"NO!" The librarian cleared her throat, and I reluctantly leaned in closer. "What I mean is, I don't want your freak DNA all over my living space. Besides, Russell probably wouldn't leave us alone long enough to get anything done."

"Okay, Agent 99, do you have a secret location in mind for the debriefing, or do we need the Cone Of Silence?"

I ignored her obscure cultural reference (what a loser). "Sadly, no. But if you tell anyone I was there-"

"Hey, I wouldn't admit to it, either," she said, frowning at me. "What if people thought I could've contracted Libbytosis?"

"Drop dead," I hissed, getting up from the table.

"Tomorrow, around seven!" she said, earning her one last shush.

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"I must be out of my mind..."

Again, I stood at the front door of the Spellman shack. Ugly siding, ugly welcome mat, ugly everything. Ugly people inside. Ugly cat. My stunning beauty is just wasted in this eternal land of ickyness. But we had a mission to complete, so...

Ding-Dong!

"Why, hello, Libby!" one of the aunts said upon opening the door. I don't know her name... the beanpole who was our substitute in chemistry for a while. "I assume you're here for Sabrina?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said, looking over her shoulder (or under, really). "Is she here? We're supposed to work on a science project."

"Yes, of course - the perfumes." She led me into the living room (ugh, also appalling). "You know, when Sabrina told me you were doing a project on aromatics, I thought she met aromaticity, which is something else entirely; it turns out she meant aroma compounds." Maybe that was supposed to be funny because she laughed, so I politely laughed along with her. "I tried to convince her to at least do something on nutrition and macrobiology, but with her quizzes becoming more frequent she opted for something more... pedestrian."

I blinked. "Well... yes, I'm sure our city's sidewalkers probably need to mask body odors; I hadn't thought of that. I'll be sure to add that little fact to our research."

She looked dumbfounded; what did I say? "Ahh... right. I'll just go and get Sabrina, wait here."

That left me alone with the mangy cat and the six o'clock news. Sometimes I could swear that cat actually watches what's on TV. Anyway, after a few minutes I got tired of waiting and wandered into the dining room...

...and was startled to see a swordfish, at least eight feet long, laying across the table.

"Wh... what the...?"

"Libby!" Sabrina said from behind me, rushing into the dining room. "Y-you're early!"

"What the hell is this?"

"My, uh, Aunt Hilda! Yeah, she just got back from Flordia!"

"God," I whispered, edging around the huge thing. "What does she use for bait, small children?"

"Oh yeah, sure, Libby; nothin' says 'Here, fishy fishy!' like little Timmy or Susie!" Her already-pained smile wilted a little under my stare. "Okay, so that went over like a lead balloon. Anyway, we can get to the stairs through the kitchen, here."

"But isn't that going to stink?"

What a nervous laugh... in fact, she always seemed to be a little nervous. It's exactly why she's always stood out as a freak and a half. "I'm sure Hilda will get around to cleaning it before it starts to rot; and even if she doesn't, Salem will smell it and finish it off gradually, don't worry."

But I was worried. Worried about what would happen to me in this house of horror, worried about my grade (or ranking or whatever it's called) on this project... and worried what hanging around Sabrina might do to my brain. That little voice that usually sounds like Gran kept telling me not to go up the stairs, that only certain doom was up there, but what choice did I have now?

It was off to the social gallows for me.

END Chapter Four