Wicked Casters

Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga. The story is going to be a mix between book and movie.

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Chapter 3: First day of school

Eleanor's POV

"Ginger, c'mon, we're going to be late!" I exclaimed at the bottom of the stairs.

It was Monday and the first day of school. All weekend was spent getting settled in and preparing for our education. It may be a surprise, but I enjoy the idea of going to a new school. It is the only time I can be normal without having people calling me a witch. I was picked on for being a nerd back in Salem, but primarily for my appearance and heritage. Growing up, kids would tease me with a rhyme: "Witch, witch, you're a witch." After three hundred years, they couldn't come up with a better rhyme.

But now, at a new location, I can start over. Okay, maybe my attire may freak certain people, but I kept the Victorian style to a minimum, or at least when in the cabin. Going for the gothic or punk look. As I waited downstairs, I was wearing a gray printed shirt, dark blue jeans, a black blazer, black boots, and a necklace with an owl on it. Makeup was simple: foundation, mascara, and lip gloss, though my nails were painted black. Hope these tones down a bit compared to my usual attire? After two more minutes, Ginger came running down wearing some worn-out jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt with a black and white flannel jacket. When she reached the bottom, her back showed a lace skull wearing a top hat. It must be a New Orleans shirt thing? She, too, wore limited makeup and grabbed her coat and the pop tart in my hands.

"Funny," I noted, grabbing my coat.

"What?" she asked, munching on breakfast.

"We are color-coordinated," I answered.

She paused, looked at our attire, and laughed. Black and white with some gray, as she said, "Great minds think alike."

"I just hope we don't scare anybody," I murmured, grabbing the keys and heading to the car.

"Scared . . . of us, ha." She said as she got in the passenger seat. "We can jinx all we want and get away with it."

"Let's not get overzealous," I warned her, getting in the driver's seat and putting the key in the ignition. "We don't want people to get suspicious."

"Oh, Eleanor, this ain't Salem." She said, turning on the music and then stopping. "You were bullied, weren't you?"

"Witch, witch, you're a witch," I muttered the ridicule chant as we started driving to Forks High school.

"Damn, well, consider it a fresh start, and you got me. If anyone messes with you, let me know, and I'll hex them to Timbuktu."

I chuckled at her comment. This past weekend Ginger and I got to know each other better. She wasn't like the foster kids you see in movies or television shows and had a personality that could be sarcastic and perky at the same time. Also, our class didn't affect my perspective on life when I grew up in an aristocratic family, and she was a late-born of the ordinary society of humans. In fact, she was intrigued about the Caster world, let alone what is fact and what is downright fiction. I even showed her my divination items from runes to tarot cards.

We reached the school parking in the back lot about twenty minutes away, where there was an open spot. It's March, the middle of the third semester. Many students stared at us as we walked into the faculty building where we were supposed to collect our schedules. The walls are white inside the secretary's office, covered with papers and flyers for colleges, programs, and posters. Against the walls were folded chairs, and the bar separating the room had some plastic plants.

Ginger walked over to the desk and tapped the bell catching the secretary's attention. A large red-haired woman wearing glasses jumped slightly from the sound and looked up, "Can I help you?"

"I'm Eleanor Rivers," I started.

"And I'm Georgia Ives," Ginger added.

Suddenly realization hit her with excitement. It must be rare to have fresh meat from the Atlantic and Gulf Coast in the Pacific Northwest. She went through her desk as she said, "You must be Zelena Bishop's girls. She informed me of her new batch this semester. Was curious when the next helping of girls in need would come. Had five girls attending here the past six years. Such a sweet lady." Soon she found the two files she was looking for.

"I have your schedule right here and the map of the school." She brought some paper to the counter to show them. By the lanyard with a school I.D., her name was Shelly Copes.

She went over our schedules and the best route on the map to get to our classes, then handed yellow slips for each teacher to sign and bring back at the end of the day. Afterward, she took our picture. Within several minutes we got our school I.D. which obtained our student number, scanner code for lunch, and library card, followed by locks and the number of the locket. Luckily Ginger and my locker are close together.

We left the faculty office and walked around the campus, searching for our lockers. Unfortunately, being the new kid, it is hard to find things. The school, in general, was divided into separate buildings, let alone surrounded by a fence from the forest. We were going back and forth, making fools of ourselves in front of the student body. Soon a knight in shining armor comes in, being an Asian boy.

"You two must be new girls," he stated.

"Guilty," Ginger replied. "The name's Ginger."

"Hi, I'm Eric," He introduces himself, offering a hand.

"Eleanor," I said, shaking his hand.

"Well, you're in luck. I'm the eyes and ears of this place." He announced. "Um…Anything you need, a tour guide, lunch date, shoulder to cry on?"

We chuckled as I said, "A tour guide would be great."

"Alright," he said as he took a look at our schedules and locker number. He then led the way to the building where our lockers would be. "So, tell me about yourselves?"

"Um, why?" Ginger asked.

"Need a good headline for your feature." He explained. "I'm on the paper, and you gals are news, front page."

"What?" I gasped surprised.

"Yeah, why are you shy or something?" he said.

"No, she's kinda the more suffer-in-silence type." Ginger teased.

"No, I'm not," I muttered, glaring daggers at her, then turned to Eric. "Sorry, just a bit of shock."

"Chillax," Eric assured. "No feature."

"C'mon, Ella, what can a feature do to ya?" Ginger asked.

I thought about it then sighed, "All right."

Eric smiled happily as he escorted us to our lockers, where we put our things. Afterward, he led Ginger to her class before Eric and I went to the same class together. Apparently, Ginger had a few A.P. classes. She must be that smart, especially for her age. Probably motivation when she was in the foster system. When we reached Trigonometry class, I gave my slip to Mr. Varner. He nodded, taking the slip and signing his name on it. Next, put my coat on the row of hooks where other coats hang, dripping from the rain outside. The classroom was small, and there was one empty desk available . . . right in front of the teacher's desk. Terrific.

"Class, we have a new student here today," Mr. Varner announced. "I would like you to meet Eleanor Rivers. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Great. The last thing I want to do is introduce myself, especially in front of the class. So I put my bag on the desk and stood in front of everyone. All eyes were on me.

"Um, hi, I'm Eleanor, but you can call me Ella. I'm seventeen years old, and I've moved here from Massachusetts." I said, leaving it at that.

"Where in Massachusetts?" One girl asked a tall girl with brown hair and eyes wearing glasses.

"Salem. I'm from Salem, Massachusetts," I answered.

"So, is it true about the Salem Witch trials?" the girl continued to ask.

"Depends. Are you taking account of Arthur Miller's play, The Crucible, the tourist advertisement, or historical?" I replied.

The class goes silent, though I notice one girl with blond hair, pale skin, and honey brown eyes smirking. She was quite beautiful, practically stood out from all the other students in the room. She stared at me with those unique color eyes that I felt a shudder going down my spine. Turning my attention to the class, I continued.

"Actually, the Salem Witch Trials is a misunderstanding. Just one way to kill your neighbor to get more property."

"All right, Miss Rivers, you can take a seat." Mr. Varner said, amused.

I nodded, sitting at my desk next to the girl who asked me questions. She introduced herself as Angela Webber, being a member of the paper. I nodded, hoping the article didn't ruin my reputation. Deep down, I don't want to go through high school drama again.

.o0o.

Ginger's POV

It was thirty minutes before lunch as I was in P.E. So far, my courses went well, especially with Mr. Mason, who signed my slip and let me take a seat. No introduction. Sadly, it didn't work on my next two classes. I only got the sign-in and got ready for Physical Education. The gym teacher introduced me to the girls preparing for a volleyball game while the boys did basketball. I wasn't keen on the sport; I preferred to do laps around the gym instead of doing this. Still, I got dragged into the game and tried to keep an eye out to avoid getting hit in the head.

It wasn't long before I had to spike the ball. I debated if I should use magic but decided not to as I lifted the ball into the air and spiked it. The ball went straight up and then curved, hitting a guy on the back of the head.

Oh shit, I thought, trying not to laugh as he turned around. He tried to figure out what happened while picking the ball up.

I walked over to him, "Sorry about that."

He was tall with a babyface, pale blue eyes, and blond hair. "No way. No, no, no . . .That's . . . that's . . . don't . . ." he stuttered. "You're Ginger, right?"

"Yeah, the new girl," I confirmed.

"Yeah. Hey, I'm Mike Newton." He introduces himself, shaking my hand.

"Cool," I said. "Nice meeting ya."

"Yeah, yeah," he said

Another girl joined in, petite like me with voluminous curly, dark brown hair and blue eyes. "She's got a great spike, huh?"

Mike chuckled, rubbing his head, "Yeah, it's. . . "

"I'm Jessica, by the way. We have a history together." She greeted, interrupting Mike.

"Oh, right," I said.

"Hey, you're from New Orleans, right?" she asked, and I nodded. "Aren't people from New Orleans supposed to have, like, a French accent?"

"Oh, I was born in Florida outside of Tampa. I just lived a year in New Orleans before coming here." I explained.

"Really, where else have you lived?"

"A lot of places," I replied, not wanting to be detailed.

The gym teacher called us back to the game. So with a nod, Jessica returned to our separate teams and played another round before it was time to freshen up. Jessica offered me to join her for lunch. I said sure and asked if we could invite Eleanor too. She shrugs as we walk down the halls with Mike, spotting Eleanor, who seems a bit irritated. Of course, I wonder how many people asked her about Salem and the witch stuff from the tourist perspective.

I introduced Eleanor to them, and they were intrigued by her previous stay, asking stuff about witches. Eleanor kept a relaxed look as she answered about her hometown. Once in the cafeteria, we got our lunch and walked over to the table where Eric sat talking with friends. Mike generously pulled our chairs, which Eleanor and I sat down.

"Hey, Mikey! You met my girls, Eleanor and Ginger?" Eric asked.

"Oh, your girls?" Mike replied.

The boys debated when a guy with dark skin wearing a red sweatshirt zoomed in between Eleanor and Mike. "My girl." He said, kissing Eleanor's cheek and then yanking Mike's chair out of him. Mike slipped out with a thunk before chasing after the guy who called out. "Sorry I had to mess up your game, Mike!"

"Tyler!" Mike bellowed, still running after him.

I couldn't stop laughing with the others, although Eleanor was blushing. She probably never had an unexpected kiss, let alone this type of attention. Guess being the new girl is a good start.

"Oh, my God." Jessica chuckled. "It's like first grade all over again. You two are the shiny new toy."

Suddenly a girl came up with a camera and sang, "Smile." A flash goes off, causing me to go blind for a moment. What the hell. "Okay."

"Sorry," she said. "I needed a candid for the feature."

"How about a better pose, Angela?" Eleanor offered.

The girl, whose name is Angela nodded, readying her camera. Eleanor and I got into a better position and smiled at the camera.

Eric stood up and patted both Eleanor and my shoulders, "You girls need a drink or condiments?"

"Um, no we're good," Eleanor said.

Eric nodded as he left to get whatever he needed from the cafeteria. Us girls waited a moment as Jessica and Angela looked at us intrigued and curious.

Angela fiddling with her camera said, "Thanks. This is better than another editorial on teen drinking."

"You can also do eating disorders," Eleanor suggested.

"Or speedo padding on the swim team," I added.

"Actually, that is a great idea," Angela smiled.

Angela and Jessica started talking about how the swim team can't have these traits creating gossip. Eleanor began to eat her food, although she seemed a bit cold. I asked if she was okay, only to get a nod. So, I just went back to my pizza, listening to the girls chat until staring out the window. Noticing people who are pale as stones walking in. They practically look like they came out of the runway or a fashion shoot, all godly features.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"The Cullens," Angela answered.

Jessica leaned forward. "They're Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They moved down here from Alaska, like, a few years ago."

"They kind of keep to themselves," Angela added.

"Yea, 'cause they're all together," Jessica whispered. "Like, together, together."

The first couple came in. The girl had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of Vogue Magazine. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. Next to her was a big-muscled guy with dark curly hair like a serious weight lifter. They must be seniors this year, no doubt. Jessica continues her gossip, "The blonde girl, that's Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they're like, a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal."

"Jess, they're not actually related." Angela reminded her softly as the couple passed by us.

"Yeah, but they live together," Jessica complained. "It's weird."

"I think I have her in my math class," Eleanor whispered to me.

I nodded as the next group of Cullens came in. The short girl was whimsical, almost like a pixie, thin if not petite. Her hair was deep black, cropped short, and pointing in every direction. Something about her red...witch. However, the atmosphere did not obtain the aura that we witches could see. The boy she held hands with was blond, taller, and leaner. He had some physical traits like Rosalie, so I assumed they were siblings or twins.

"The little dark-haired girl's Alice. She's really weird," Jessica added. "And she's with Jasper, the blond one who looks like he's in pain?"

"Are Jasper and Rosalie related?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah, they are twins," Angela confirmed. "Their last name is Hale."

"So, there shouldn't be a problem with them living together," I said. "Also, lucky to have a hot guy."

"Of brother," Eleanor sighed, shaking her head.

"Dr. Cullen's like the foster dad/matchmaker," Jessica said.

"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela teased.

We all chuckled at the joke, then sighed. Eleanor continues to shudder to rub her arms together. Our new classmate told us sometimes the cafeteria gets cold and to bring a sweater. She nodded as she zipped up her coat. Wow, Eleanor really looks uncomfortable.

"Who's he?" she asked.

I look up, and whoa, hot guy on board. In fact, he sorta looks like the guy who played Cedric Diggory from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. What can I say? I like to compare people to celebrities when I get bored. And this guy is a hunk with angular facial features, bronze hair, and a jawline. If this was a cartoon, I would be drooling.

"That's Edward Cullen," Jessica smiled slightly. "He's totally gorgeous, obviously, but apparently, nobody here's good enough for him. Like I care, you know?"

Jessica must have attempted to get into a relationship with him, and probably turned her down. So, to make her smile, I asked softly so he didn't hear. "Is he gay or somethin'?"

Jessica chuckled in a fit of giggles; meanwhile, the Cullens and Hales, who sat in the far corner, were laughing as well. Edward sat there glaring at his foster siblings. Uh, it must be a coincidence. As if they could hear me all the way over there.

"Never thought about that. Maybe?" Jessica murmured, wiping a tear. "Seriously though, like, don't waste your time."

"Don't worry, he's not my type," I assured.

Although I felt his eyes staring at me. I turn my head to see him and his family watching us with loathing or curiosity. Edward looking at me sent shivers down my spine. It almost looks like he is hiding something. So, I turned my head and did a jinx spell causing his soda to fall off the table, spilling on the floor. There was a slight ruckus as Emmett and Alice laughed at him.

Good, that should teach him not to stare at people.

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