Chapter 3: Girls and their Favorite Things
(Hmm, Happy New Year's.I really want this year to be better than last year:)
Part I: Faye's Feelings
Total blackness. The cold touch of a waxy, wooden floor on bare skin. The uncomfortable smell of a mildewy sweat that can never be washed away. Suzan slowly opened her eyes and groaned. Knocked down by a ball in her first period gym class. One of the great joys of high school. Some idiot boy was probably staring at her chest while spiking, go figure.
She hauled herself off the floor and the teacher helped her the rest of the way from the volleyball game and towards the bleachers. Her head was throbbing as she ignored the apologizing boy, the idiot who ruined her day, mumbled a "you're forgiven" and settled her head on Faye's shoulder, to annoy Faye and also hoping that resting her head would do something for the pain. Faye really hated touching anything without a dick, she probably considered it a waste of her time.
They both sat for a bit without talking; no one would feel up to real conversation at 8 AM if they were honest to themselves. The noise of the people talking and yelling was not helping her head, Suzan decided. Suzan looked down and saw the reason why Faye was not part of the game, she was wearing dangerous looking high heels. Suzan's attention wandered back to the game. Watching her team win due to the efforts of Deborah was its own mindless pleasure, especially since the guy who hit Suzan on the head is on the other team.
Eventually Suzan decided that Faye's shoulders were too bony, so she lifted her head off. A few minutes later Suzan's blood circulation in her head returned to normal. Time to figure out what's new in Faye world.
"So Faye, what's the occasion?" Suzan gestured not only to the heels, but also a nightclub worthy ensemble.
"I'm feeling mad at mankind today. This look is a I'm-too-hot-to- deal-with-this-shit statement." Faye spoke in a dispassionate dry tone.
"I know how that feels, but are you sure you are not wearing your statement for a particular someone?" Suzan asked this in an admirably straight face. She kept her snicker to herself.
"I don't know what to tell you. Not Nick, he is very, very hot, but not easy to manipulate. He is too serious to have fun with. The new captain of the football team, Mike Garring, is worth the view, but I don't like leftovers." Faye's sneer was this close to not being friendly, thought Suzan. Besides, Suzan didn't believe it was her fault that the football team reacted so strongly to those yellow gems, whatever their name is (may Melanie never figure out that Suzan forgot the name of her working stone). Nor is Suzan the one with the school whore rep: Faye should know better than sneering at her.
"Believe me when I say that Mike is not worth your time. And Nick not chasing girls is sort of a given. The way girls throw themselves at him I'm surprised he hasn't turned gay. It's really no fun when adoration comes too easy. He liked Cassie because he knew he wouldn't have that kind of relationship with her. You already know all of this, so I'm betting there is another guy."
"Hmm.so the story about that freshman leaked pretty well. Even you heard the story. Well, just so you know, he is cute, and if I were stuck on a deserted island with only him he can kiss his virginity goodbye. But otherwise, I do have some idea of honor and I am not after him." Faye didn't have any emotions on her face, but Suzan thought she saw a slight blush.
Before Suzan could squeeze out more details about how bad Faye really had it for this kid, a lemony scent started wafting towards them. Smells like Deborah. It's a good thing its not Deborah's sweat, thought Faye. Deborah usually sweats like a guy.
"So, who's the new victim?" Deborah directed this towards Faye.
"What makes you think there is a victim?" Faye and Suzan asked this at the same time. The only difference is that Faye had an edge to her tone and Suzan only sounded curious.
"The whole Medusa look."
"Medusa look?!" Again Faye and Suzan managed to synchronize their question. Faye surreptitiously looked over herself. "You mean like some bag lady with snakes for hair?!"
"No, you look as if you want 'men to turn to stone with nary a look'. I'm pretty sure that the ancient Greeks are probably laughing at us. Most of their stuff sounds suspiciously like boner jokes. Besides, I haven't seen you with a guy in a long time. No men makes for an angry Faye." Deborah looked like she was having fun when she said this.
"And an angry Faye means that a sucker is about to be hexed," finished Suzan, who was also amused.
Faye stood frozen for a moment trying to decide whether she was more pissed or rather that forgiveness is okay once in awhile. A bitchy reputation took hard work. Well, since these are old friends, what the hell, Faye thought.
"In fact I do have someone in mind. . ."
Part II: The Other Half
At the start of the same period as gym, Laurel, Melanie, Cassie and Diana dragged themselves into morning AP U.S. History. Unlike Faye's class, this lecture was more demanding in terms of work. The teacher, Mr. Martlett, may be a cute and athletic specimen of the male race, but he talked really fast. Maybe that sort of thing might be more useful in other occupations, like in rap, thought Laurel derivsively. The class was painful because of its extremes: puppy cute brown hair and eyes, body of a Roman god, impossible to write notes for and HISTORY. Sadism never had it this good.
This class is so sadistic, Laurel didn't know whether to continue to look at the teacher adorably or plan a campaign of teacher hate email. Sigh.
"Let's not forget that within the stern and austere legacy of the Puritans, they also left behind an appreciation for aesthetics. It is within those peoples that the earliest account parallel to the modern supermodel is recorded within the Americas. Despite the similarities between their celebrated beauties and our Cindy Crawfords, their models were never mobbed left and right by admirers. If you still remember your Puritans, they were extremely ascetic; they would probably frown upon our outright adulation of starlets on the tube. But as you can see in this slide-"
I'm so glad he paused for breath, thought Laurel, whose hand was hurting from all the notetaking. Forcing her focus from his face to the slide, she saw a very beautiful girl. Brilliant green eyes, flushed cheeks, shiny masses of silky black hair with a quiet, shy smile. Yep, that girl puts some modern models to shame. With a click came the next slide which showed another beautiful girl with an incredible shade of blond hair and light brown eyes. Both were dressed in the almost ugly, stiff and simple package of Puritan black and white, serviceable because most of their skin is covered. Which is a shame, Laurel thought, there is so much of nature peaking out of the windows in the backgrounds of those portraits. No one should sit stiffly for a painting when there is plenty of beauty outdoors.
Laurel did not catch the name of the girl in the first slide, but Mr. Martlett (Jake in her daydreams) slowed down enough to catch a "-Meade."
Immediately everyone's head swung over to Diana, Diana Meade, who looked embarrassed. Yep, the hair is the same, mused Laurel. With some squinting at the slide, the long dead girl seemed to share the same pale color of blond whose sheen defied a simple silver or gold description. Not the eyes though. Diana must have gotten her green eyes from another ancestor. No, those almost hazel eyes are Faye's. Well, they do share almost all their ancestors.
Laurel looked around the room to check out other people's reactions. Cassie looked especially slack-jawed but most people didn't seem too surprised. Here at New Salem, Massachusetts, all the old families were descended from the Puritans. More specifically most of the "outsiders" or normal humans in the school are descendants of the servants that the original coven of witches brought with them when escaping the witch hunt of 1692 from Salem. Everyone here knows this, well that and the open secret that the Crowhaven kids are witches. Therefore no reason to be surprised. Laurel then started wondering why Cassie seemed to be in shock. Cassie should know this as well as anyone else, despite being raised in California.
Part III: Half an Hour Later
Mr. Martlett continued his couple of hundred words per minute pace, unaware of the large amount of interest that the slides garnered. Laurel put her pen down. She decided to give up for today and photocopy her notes from either Diana or Melanie. If Cassie can doze off in class and still get good grades (from cramming Diana's notes) then Laurel could mooch off of Melanie and Diana also.
Then the most unappreciated thing happened to Laurel, Jake-um Mr. Sexy- nope, um Martlett called on her. Looking dopey in front of cute men is never appreciated, thought Laurel.
"Laurel, I was asking you if you remember the name of the first colony on what later became the continental United States?"
Laurel was dumbfounded. She was way too busy daydreaming about the teacher to come up with an answer.
"Ummm. . ."
*St. Augustine you nitwit,* mind chimed Cassie. *Daydreaming about Mr. Sexy again, are we?*
Laurel just cringed and managed to choke out a ,"St. Augustine" before turning all red. She then got a smile from Mr. Sexy himself. After Laurel finished melting in her seat from happiness, she growled at Cassie. Cassie really had no right to peeping in her head.
*Peeping? I had to block myself off from your disgusting mind. Laurel, you have a mind dirtier than some guys, and that is saying a whole lot.* After Cassie finished, Laurel noticed Diana and Melanie, sitting right in front of Cassie and Laurel, shaking in their seats. They better not be laughing at this, hoped Laurel.
When the witch girls settled down, the class went back to its normal rhythm of his sexiness talking and the same annoying freshman raising his hand for answering questions and asking some questions of his own. That kiss-up, named Ben, always moved his arm and talked eagerly. Or perhaps desperately thought Laurel.
Ben is the only freshman in their mostly senior class. The annoying part is not his obvious intelligence. It probably was the grasping manner in which he kisses ass. Then again she could be jealous. Ben got to talk to the cute teacher way more than Laurel.
After that thought, fire bell rang.
"Class, calm down. Pretend that this is a drill and line up accordingly. I'm pretty sure this is a drill but it can't hurt to have confirmation. I'll need a volunteer to go to the main office. Since the office is right next to the stairs, it shouldn't put anyone at risk." Laurel raised her hand but it was hard to see her hand over the spectacle Ben was making.
After a deep exhale (Mr. Martlett probably realizes how much of a kiss-up Ben is, thought Laurel happily), the teacher chose Ben and he ran out the door. The class finished lining up and turned into the hallway. When the class turned the corner, they saw an ugly scene. Ben was running towards them, screaming and dripping wet. The sprinklers were on, but only the ones directly over Ben's head. No matter how fast Ben moved, he kept on getting rained on. *Just like in the cartoons*, pathed Diana.
From a dark corner, Laurel saw Faye smiling. She finally got to hexing someone. *Why did you do it? I really hate the kid and I would never torture anyone like that.*
Faye replied, *He's the reason everyone knows about the freshman incident. He couldn't keep his mouth shut.*
Faye sashayed away; normal walking looked impossible in those heels. Laurel's last thought before stepping outdoors with the class was concerning the coven meeting tonight. There was no way this would be a boring meeting.
(Hmm, Happy New Year's.I really want this year to be better than last year:)
Part I: Faye's Feelings
Total blackness. The cold touch of a waxy, wooden floor on bare skin. The uncomfortable smell of a mildewy sweat that can never be washed away. Suzan slowly opened her eyes and groaned. Knocked down by a ball in her first period gym class. One of the great joys of high school. Some idiot boy was probably staring at her chest while spiking, go figure.
She hauled herself off the floor and the teacher helped her the rest of the way from the volleyball game and towards the bleachers. Her head was throbbing as she ignored the apologizing boy, the idiot who ruined her day, mumbled a "you're forgiven" and settled her head on Faye's shoulder, to annoy Faye and also hoping that resting her head would do something for the pain. Faye really hated touching anything without a dick, she probably considered it a waste of her time.
They both sat for a bit without talking; no one would feel up to real conversation at 8 AM if they were honest to themselves. The noise of the people talking and yelling was not helping her head, Suzan decided. Suzan looked down and saw the reason why Faye was not part of the game, she was wearing dangerous looking high heels. Suzan's attention wandered back to the game. Watching her team win due to the efforts of Deborah was its own mindless pleasure, especially since the guy who hit Suzan on the head is on the other team.
Eventually Suzan decided that Faye's shoulders were too bony, so she lifted her head off. A few minutes later Suzan's blood circulation in her head returned to normal. Time to figure out what's new in Faye world.
"So Faye, what's the occasion?" Suzan gestured not only to the heels, but also a nightclub worthy ensemble.
"I'm feeling mad at mankind today. This look is a I'm-too-hot-to- deal-with-this-shit statement." Faye spoke in a dispassionate dry tone.
"I know how that feels, but are you sure you are not wearing your statement for a particular someone?" Suzan asked this in an admirably straight face. She kept her snicker to herself.
"I don't know what to tell you. Not Nick, he is very, very hot, but not easy to manipulate. He is too serious to have fun with. The new captain of the football team, Mike Garring, is worth the view, but I don't like leftovers." Faye's sneer was this close to not being friendly, thought Suzan. Besides, Suzan didn't believe it was her fault that the football team reacted so strongly to those yellow gems, whatever their name is (may Melanie never figure out that Suzan forgot the name of her working stone). Nor is Suzan the one with the school whore rep: Faye should know better than sneering at her.
"Believe me when I say that Mike is not worth your time. And Nick not chasing girls is sort of a given. The way girls throw themselves at him I'm surprised he hasn't turned gay. It's really no fun when adoration comes too easy. He liked Cassie because he knew he wouldn't have that kind of relationship with her. You already know all of this, so I'm betting there is another guy."
"Hmm.so the story about that freshman leaked pretty well. Even you heard the story. Well, just so you know, he is cute, and if I were stuck on a deserted island with only him he can kiss his virginity goodbye. But otherwise, I do have some idea of honor and I am not after him." Faye didn't have any emotions on her face, but Suzan thought she saw a slight blush.
Before Suzan could squeeze out more details about how bad Faye really had it for this kid, a lemony scent started wafting towards them. Smells like Deborah. It's a good thing its not Deborah's sweat, thought Faye. Deborah usually sweats like a guy.
"So, who's the new victim?" Deborah directed this towards Faye.
"What makes you think there is a victim?" Faye and Suzan asked this at the same time. The only difference is that Faye had an edge to her tone and Suzan only sounded curious.
"The whole Medusa look."
"Medusa look?!" Again Faye and Suzan managed to synchronize their question. Faye surreptitiously looked over herself. "You mean like some bag lady with snakes for hair?!"
"No, you look as if you want 'men to turn to stone with nary a look'. I'm pretty sure that the ancient Greeks are probably laughing at us. Most of their stuff sounds suspiciously like boner jokes. Besides, I haven't seen you with a guy in a long time. No men makes for an angry Faye." Deborah looked like she was having fun when she said this.
"And an angry Faye means that a sucker is about to be hexed," finished Suzan, who was also amused.
Faye stood frozen for a moment trying to decide whether she was more pissed or rather that forgiveness is okay once in awhile. A bitchy reputation took hard work. Well, since these are old friends, what the hell, Faye thought.
"In fact I do have someone in mind. . ."
Part II: The Other Half
At the start of the same period as gym, Laurel, Melanie, Cassie and Diana dragged themselves into morning AP U.S. History. Unlike Faye's class, this lecture was more demanding in terms of work. The teacher, Mr. Martlett, may be a cute and athletic specimen of the male race, but he talked really fast. Maybe that sort of thing might be more useful in other occupations, like in rap, thought Laurel derivsively. The class was painful because of its extremes: puppy cute brown hair and eyes, body of a Roman god, impossible to write notes for and HISTORY. Sadism never had it this good.
This class is so sadistic, Laurel didn't know whether to continue to look at the teacher adorably or plan a campaign of teacher hate email. Sigh.
"Let's not forget that within the stern and austere legacy of the Puritans, they also left behind an appreciation for aesthetics. It is within those peoples that the earliest account parallel to the modern supermodel is recorded within the Americas. Despite the similarities between their celebrated beauties and our Cindy Crawfords, their models were never mobbed left and right by admirers. If you still remember your Puritans, they were extremely ascetic; they would probably frown upon our outright adulation of starlets on the tube. But as you can see in this slide-"
I'm so glad he paused for breath, thought Laurel, whose hand was hurting from all the notetaking. Forcing her focus from his face to the slide, she saw a very beautiful girl. Brilliant green eyes, flushed cheeks, shiny masses of silky black hair with a quiet, shy smile. Yep, that girl puts some modern models to shame. With a click came the next slide which showed another beautiful girl with an incredible shade of blond hair and light brown eyes. Both were dressed in the almost ugly, stiff and simple package of Puritan black and white, serviceable because most of their skin is covered. Which is a shame, Laurel thought, there is so much of nature peaking out of the windows in the backgrounds of those portraits. No one should sit stiffly for a painting when there is plenty of beauty outdoors.
Laurel did not catch the name of the girl in the first slide, but Mr. Martlett (Jake in her daydreams) slowed down enough to catch a "-Meade."
Immediately everyone's head swung over to Diana, Diana Meade, who looked embarrassed. Yep, the hair is the same, mused Laurel. With some squinting at the slide, the long dead girl seemed to share the same pale color of blond whose sheen defied a simple silver or gold description. Not the eyes though. Diana must have gotten her green eyes from another ancestor. No, those almost hazel eyes are Faye's. Well, they do share almost all their ancestors.
Laurel looked around the room to check out other people's reactions. Cassie looked especially slack-jawed but most people didn't seem too surprised. Here at New Salem, Massachusetts, all the old families were descended from the Puritans. More specifically most of the "outsiders" or normal humans in the school are descendants of the servants that the original coven of witches brought with them when escaping the witch hunt of 1692 from Salem. Everyone here knows this, well that and the open secret that the Crowhaven kids are witches. Therefore no reason to be surprised. Laurel then started wondering why Cassie seemed to be in shock. Cassie should know this as well as anyone else, despite being raised in California.
Part III: Half an Hour Later
Mr. Martlett continued his couple of hundred words per minute pace, unaware of the large amount of interest that the slides garnered. Laurel put her pen down. She decided to give up for today and photocopy her notes from either Diana or Melanie. If Cassie can doze off in class and still get good grades (from cramming Diana's notes) then Laurel could mooch off of Melanie and Diana also.
Then the most unappreciated thing happened to Laurel, Jake-um Mr. Sexy- nope, um Martlett called on her. Looking dopey in front of cute men is never appreciated, thought Laurel.
"Laurel, I was asking you if you remember the name of the first colony on what later became the continental United States?"
Laurel was dumbfounded. She was way too busy daydreaming about the teacher to come up with an answer.
"Ummm. . ."
*St. Augustine you nitwit,* mind chimed Cassie. *Daydreaming about Mr. Sexy again, are we?*
Laurel just cringed and managed to choke out a ,"St. Augustine" before turning all red. She then got a smile from Mr. Sexy himself. After Laurel finished melting in her seat from happiness, she growled at Cassie. Cassie really had no right to peeping in her head.
*Peeping? I had to block myself off from your disgusting mind. Laurel, you have a mind dirtier than some guys, and that is saying a whole lot.* After Cassie finished, Laurel noticed Diana and Melanie, sitting right in front of Cassie and Laurel, shaking in their seats. They better not be laughing at this, hoped Laurel.
When the witch girls settled down, the class went back to its normal rhythm of his sexiness talking and the same annoying freshman raising his hand for answering questions and asking some questions of his own. That kiss-up, named Ben, always moved his arm and talked eagerly. Or perhaps desperately thought Laurel.
Ben is the only freshman in their mostly senior class. The annoying part is not his obvious intelligence. It probably was the grasping manner in which he kisses ass. Then again she could be jealous. Ben got to talk to the cute teacher way more than Laurel.
After that thought, fire bell rang.
"Class, calm down. Pretend that this is a drill and line up accordingly. I'm pretty sure this is a drill but it can't hurt to have confirmation. I'll need a volunteer to go to the main office. Since the office is right next to the stairs, it shouldn't put anyone at risk." Laurel raised her hand but it was hard to see her hand over the spectacle Ben was making.
After a deep exhale (Mr. Martlett probably realizes how much of a kiss-up Ben is, thought Laurel happily), the teacher chose Ben and he ran out the door. The class finished lining up and turned into the hallway. When the class turned the corner, they saw an ugly scene. Ben was running towards them, screaming and dripping wet. The sprinklers were on, but only the ones directly over Ben's head. No matter how fast Ben moved, he kept on getting rained on. *Just like in the cartoons*, pathed Diana.
From a dark corner, Laurel saw Faye smiling. She finally got to hexing someone. *Why did you do it? I really hate the kid and I would never torture anyone like that.*
Faye replied, *He's the reason everyone knows about the freshman incident. He couldn't keep his mouth shut.*
Faye sashayed away; normal walking looked impossible in those heels. Laurel's last thought before stepping outdoors with the class was concerning the coven meeting tonight. There was no way this would be a boring meeting.