A/N: This is when you begin to notice the differences between how Harry grows up and how Glinda grows up. There are some similarities but one big difference…

Chapter Two: No Ordinary Girl

"Tag! You're it!" Lindy heard a young masculine voice say behind her, along with a tap on her shoulder. She groaned. The shadow of the person talking to her was now blocking her sunlight.

If I ignore him he'll go away. She thought, and then looked back down at her book.

"Hey, Beiner!" the boy's voice said again. This time he pushed Lindy's shoulder and yelled, "We're playing tag!" right in her ear.

At this point she was furious. If there was one thing she hated it was people interrupting her while she was reading. "I don't want to play your childish games for the hundredth time, Larry Milton!" Lindy snapped, turning around to look the chubby ten-year-old in the eye. Just like every day he was wearing an ugly striped shirt (today it was yellow and grey) and just like every day, he was bugging her. It seemed to be some sort of hobby of his, ever since Lindy had began going to Sussex Day Camp.

"You'd rather sit here and read that ruddy book!" Larry retorted. He shoved himself next to her on the blue park bench. "What is this rubbish anyway?" he asked.

Lindy turned up her nose and glared at him.

Larry bended over to look at the cover of the book, "Elfin James?" he said in a confused tone, "Sounds stupid."

Lindy turned her back to him, "It's about a young warlock who was raised by elves and always felt out of place until he meets his grandfather Bartholomew who takes him to a magical land where he learns to use his powers and it is actually quite interesting!"

Larry got up and laughed, "It really is rubbish!" he exclaimed.

"It's not rubbish!" she screamed.

Larry laughed again and snatched the book right out of her hands.

Lindy's face turned red with anger as she stood up fiercely, "Give it here, Milton!" she cried.

"Watcha gonna do, Beiner?" he mocked, "Zap me with your magical elf powers?"

"SHUT-UP!" she screeched jumping up and down trying to reach the book, "Wait until my father hears about this, remember what he did last time?"

"What's your big-computer dad gonna do this time?" he hooted, "Digitize me too death? Believe me his little "chat" didn't scare me."

A couple weeks ago Larry had pushed while going outside to the playground. It was the first day of camp and she didn't know Larry very well. He came rather close to planting her face into the ground but some how she managed to bring herself back to her feet. Her father wasn't very happy and that day when he brought her to camp her had a rather serious talk with Larry. But of course it went in one ear and out the other.

Lindy felt the anger bottle up inside her, "Well, you're ten-years old, you don't scare me either!"

"So what?" Larry rolled his eyes, "You're a girl you can't do anything."

"YES I CAN!" she shouted so loud she felt as if her vocal cords were going to pop out of her throat.

All of a sudden the book dropped right out of Larry's hands and he fell flat on his back.

Lindy picked up the book and some of the other children from the camp began laughing and gathering around. Lindy just stood there, not sure what to do.

Larry swiftly got up as if nothing happened. But by the expression on his face Lindy could see he was mad. "That was just an accident!" he cried walking towards her.

Lindy felt sweat run down her forehead. She didn't want to think about what he was going to do next. Even though she was a year older than him and only slightly shorter she felt as if he was the superior one.

"You don't sca…" he began to shout but before either of them knew it Larry suddenly flew back-wards again, this time not just on his back, but right into the merry-go-round. It looked almost as if a big gust of wind had sent him flying but Lindy didn't feel anything. However, she did feel a strange sense of guilt as if this was all her fault. Even if most of the children were laughing or going, "oooo that must have hurt". None of them seemed as shocked as she was.

Larry looked very dismayed and even angrier. He attempted to get back up on his feet and Lindy felt herself sweat again for a millisecond. But once again the dark-haired pudgy boy landed on his back again. His face was as red as a tomato. He clenched the handle of the merry-go-round like a stress ball.

At this point the kids were no longer laughing. Partly because they saw how mad Larry was and partly that they had seen the head counselors, Ms. Rysett, had spotted the incident as well.

Ms. Rysett isn't exactly what you would call a people person or any type of person other than a mean one. The children didn't know anything about her except how much she loathed her summer job. (Maybe it was because the only other people assisting her were a hand full of lazy teenagers that could care less about the kids' well being.) Her hazel eyes were always squinting over her small, grey, oval shaped glasses which she kept on a copper chain. She was very thin and usually wore very ugly suits (not usually worn in such a job) and loud black shoes, so the children always knew she was coming. Her hair was always in a big, golden bun at the top of her head and usually held with a clip as equally ugly as her suits. But what really scared Lindy was her nose. In her opinion Ms. Rysett's nose looked more like a pig snout and when she talked she definitely sounded like a skinny, mad, old pig.

Before she had heard the commotion Ms. Rysett was talking to a parent that was considering sending her shy six-year old son to the camp. The mere sight of the woman made the small boy shutter as he wouldn't let go of his mother's leg. Ms. Rysett was trying desperately to gain a client on the far end of the sidewalk near the park. She had left the junior counselors to look after the campers, so for that moment she had her back turned to the kids and was ignoring all of the screams behind her.

But once she heard the loud "thump" of Larry Milton's head hitting the merry-go-round she quickly turned around and said, "Excuse me for a second Mrs. Haight." Without saying another word Ms. Rysett ran as fast as her seemingly uncomfortable shoes could carry her. She looked over to see almost all of the children crowded around the merry-go-round and Larry on the ground. The teenagers (who had been at the netball court) were just coming over as well.

The counselors reached the sight just in time to hear Larry Milton growl, "BEINER!" through his teeth. Ms. Rysett's mouth fell open and Lindy was sweating as if someone had cooked her in an oven.

Just then the merry-go-round started spinning at first Lindy thought Larry or one of the other kids was doing it, but then it began spinning faster and faster. Larry's left hand was still gripped to the handle and he was spinning with it. The expression on his face looked as if he was scared to let go. After awhile it was too late, he was spinning so fast you could barely see him. "BEEEEEEINNEERRRR," he screamed.

Ms. Rysett ran right over to Lindy and grabbed her by her blue and pink striped shirt, "What the hell did you do!" she snapped. Her yellowish fangs looked as if she was about to kill.

"N-n-nothing," she began, "I swear."

Lindy heard another thump on the ground. Larry finally had lost his grip on the merry-go-round handle and was now face first on the ground, motionless. "Uhhhh," he moaned.

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE HELP HIM!" Ms. Rysett shrieked, "YOU, JEFFERY!" she pointed at one of the teenage boys, "CALL HIS MOTHER AND GET HIM ICE!"

Lindy bit her lip.

"AND YOU!" Ms. Rysett said grabbing hold of Lindy's shirt again, "Tell me the truth! WHAT HAPPENED?"

"I t-t-told you," she stuttered, "I don't know."

"Then why was he screaming your name?" she asked fiercely.

"I dunno," she said quietly.

"THAT'S IT!" she cried, "Outside time is OVER! Junior counselors take them inside."

"Awww," the kids moaned.

"As for you," Ms. Rysett uttered looked at Lindy with a narrowing look, "You're coming with me."

Lindy gulped and followed her counselor across the street to the day camp building (usually used for a nursery school) in the back door instead of the front where the rest of the children were going.

They were silent until the got to the administrator's office. "Doris," Ms. Rysett said to the old woman at the desk who was typing away at the computer. "Would you please wait with this special young lady while she waits for her mother?"

Doris nodded and looked back at the screen. "Sit here," Ms. Rysett ordered, pointing to one of the chairs on the opposite end of the desk. Lindy sat down and looked at the rug.

Ms. Rysett picked up the telephone on the desk and looked back over at Lindy, "Give me the number!" she demanded.

Lindy felt as if she was going to cry, "934-7333," she said still looking at the floor.

Ms. Rysett punched in the numbers and held the phone up to his ear. "Yes, hello, Mrs. Beiner….good afternoon…well not so good actually…young Glinda has gotten herself into another fight..."

Lindy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Mrs. Rysett didn't even talk to the other kids and ask them what happen. And the other trouble she's gotten into were not fights.

"Yes I do realize that…she pushed another child into the merry-go-round and then spun it VERY fast!"

At this moment she couldn't take it any more. "NO I DIDN'T!" she cried.

"Just come and collect her!" Ms. Rysett ordered, ignoring Lindy temporarily. Then she slammed down the phone and looked back at her. "You can defend yourself all you want," she said, this time quietly, "But I'm not going to believe a word of it. I know your type, you're a freak show! Mark my word!"

This time Lindy did cry. She buried her face in her hands and bawled harder that she had in two years. Ms. Rysett just stomped away.

Lindy sat in her seat and read her book with tears in her eyes for seven minutes (and counting) until she heard the office door open. Standing at the door was a short forty-two year old, dark haired woman with a sorrowful expression. "Let's go," she whispered to her daughter. Lindy got up and followed her outside to the parking lot and into the family mini-van without a sound.

After driving for a few minutes Mrs. Beiner spoke, "So," she said, "Tell me what really happened."

"You mean you don't believe that awful woman?" she asked.

"No," her mother replied, "Not completely. Well, tell me."

"I don't know exactly what happened," she said honestly, "Larry was making fun of my book and I got mad. Then he just toppled over and landed on the spinning thing, which spun really fast and I think he got a concussion. But I swear, I didn't lay a finger on him…honest!"

"I believe you," she said. It was silent for another minute, "You do realize you're never going back there."

"Good!" she exclaimed, "I hate it! No one talks to me, I hate Ms. Rysett, the teenagers talk too much, and the snack cookies taste like rocks!"

Her mother smiled slightly and sighed. "You're father's not going very be happy."

Lindy slouched back in her chair, "I don't care," she said, "I know I didn't do anything."

"I do hope this isn't a preview of what secondary school is going to be like," Mrs. Beiner said more seriously.

Lindy thought about that. She already got in enough trouble as it is in primary school. Just like today it was almost never her fault, but none the less. She always felt left out. She never seemed to connect with all the other kids her age, who liked computers, television, and video games. It's not that she didn't like them. She just didn't have an interest. And frankly, she much enjoyed reading a book than talking with a bunch of brain washed children anyway.

The two were silent the rest of the way to their home on Hinnes Court, in Mulberry, a very spick and span neighborhood in a London suburb where all the houses looked the same and every lawn was bright green. Lindy couldn't stand everything being the same, maybe because she was so different.

When Lindy and her mother walked inside she saw her dad typing away at the computer (just like Doris, the secretary) as he usually does in the afternoon. He looked up and sighed, but surprisingly didn't say a word. Lindy's father worked for a very successful computer company. Every day he would come home complaining about something his boss did and go back to that terrible machine and type away. Lindy hated it.

Without thinking Lindy headed upstairs to her room to read in peace. At the top of the stairs she ran into a short, muscular figure. "Hey, watch it," he said.

"Move over, Stephen," Lindy snapped at her sixteen-year old brother.

"Woah, slow down, Blondie," he retorted, "What happened today anyway?"

"I was wrongfully accused," she said haughtily, "Now move it, Shorty."

"Hey, you're not taller than me yet," said Stephen with a slight laugh.

"JUST MOVE IT YOU GIT!" she screamed without thinking.

"GLINDA NARCISSA!" she heard her father cry.

"UH!" Lindy groaned. Stephen moved out of the way and Lindy ran into her room, threw herself on to her bed and cried into her green and blue comforter.

Can someone please take me away from her! She thought. Every single day it was getting harder and harder. She wanted to be like the characters in all her fantasy books and live in a magical place where there's not stuck up, mind washed computer freaks. I stuck here. Was what she thought. But as it turns out, she couldn't be more wrong.