become the most popular girl in school, if I just revealed my secret. I could feel the tide of support for the dragon.
I could become cool overnight.
This was such a novel concept that it threw me a bit, enough that it took me until the end of class to remember my dad’s last instruction.
No shifting without authorization.
2. That made me wonder whether my dad, with his gift of foresight, had glimpsed the temptation in my future.
Who wouldn’t want to be cool? Who wouldn’t want to be popular?
All I’d have to do is shift shape in front of witnesses.
And finally:
3. Courtesy of all the drama in my life, I’d completely forgotten about the English essay I had to hand in right after lunch. ‘The Depiction of Weather as a Character in Jane Eyre , Rebecca, and Persuasion .’ Crap. Crappity crap crap. I hadn’t even finished reading the last book and time was a-wasting. So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.
So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.
I spent lunch in the library, madly reading and scribbling, barely managing to pull together an essay that was somewhat coherent in time.
On the way to English class, I joined the group of people gathered outside the closed bathroom that had been the scene of the crime. I had a peek around the temporary barrier – easy since there were worker dudes who had moved it aside in their assessment of the damage – and smiled to myself at the diameter of the peeling scorch mark on the ceiling.
‘They’re trying to say that she was smoking something,’ Stacey said, with a roll of her eyes.
‘It’d be a helluva toke to burn that much,’ Mike replied.
‘I think we would have smelled it before it wrecked the ceiling,’ Tanya added, and they all laughed.
When I got to English class, Derek was already there, watching me from his fave seat at the back. I stumbled right on cue. He didn’t miss one bit of it and I was glad to take my seat and turn my back to him.
The day couldn’t end soon enough.
Gym was my last class and predictably painful, even with Suzanne absent. Volleyball. Ugh. Whenever I hit the ball – which was infrequent – it went straight into the net.
Eventually, the last bell rang. Meagan was ignoring me, probably because I hadn’t showed at lunch.
I was late already, so I just headed out, reasoning that I’d patch things up with her later. I’d also have to think of a story to tell Mrs Jameson. Maybe a dentist appointment. I’d sent Isabelle a message and she’d agreed to meet me at a coffee shop at four. I’d met her at the same place a couple of other times. I had to take the bus and the L to get there, but I was used to that.
I like meeting up with Isabelle. In a way, she’s everything I want to be. In another, she’s been everything I want to be. It’s odd, hanging with someone who had your job before but doesn’t remember doing it.
Last spring, I discovered that she’s the previous Wyvern reincarnated. This would be incredibly useful, if she remembered all of the Wyvern goodness she once must have known and could thus help me get a grip on my slippery new powers.
Of course, it doesn’t work that way. Nothing about this Wyvern gig is easy. She doesn’t remember anything about a past life and is pretty much taking my word on the whole reincarnation thing.
Why am I so sure of who Isabelle was? Granny showed me. One thing I have learned is that what goes down in my dreams, especially when Granny is on the scene, proves to be real. Every time.
Maybe that’s a Wyvern trick.
Memory or not, there was no telling what Isabelle had inadvertently learned about the ring while growing up in Rafferty’s house. I still had hopes for more information.
Usually Isabelle’s in England – where Rafferty and his partner, Melissa, live – taking courses on tarot cards and auras while being effortlessly gorgeous. She’s older than me, but doesn’t get snotty about it. This year, Isabelle had decided to enroll in some exchange
I could become cool overnight.
This was such a novel concept that it threw me a bit, enough that it took me until the end of class to remember my dad’s last instruction.
No shifting without authorization.
2. That made me wonder whether my dad, with his gift of foresight, had glimpsed the temptation in my future.
Who wouldn’t want to be cool? Who wouldn’t want to be popular?
All I’d have to do is shift shape in front of witnesses.
And finally:
3. Courtesy of all the drama in my life, I’d completely forgotten about the English essay I had to hand in right after lunch. ‘The Depiction of Weather as a Character in Jane Eyre , Rebecca, and Persuasion .’ Crap. Crappity crap crap. I hadn’t even finished reading the last book and time was a-wasting. So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.
So much for lunch with Meagan and Jessica.
I spent lunch in the library, madly reading and scribbling, barely managing to pull together an essay that was somewhat coherent in time.
On the way to English class, I joined the group of people gathered outside the closed bathroom that had been the scene of the crime. I had a peek around the temporary barrier – easy since there were worker dudes who had moved it aside in their assessment of the damage – and smiled to myself at the diameter of the peeling scorch mark on the ceiling.
‘They’re trying to say that she was smoking something,’ Stacey said, with a roll of her eyes.
‘It’d be a helluva toke to burn that much,’ Mike replied.
‘I think we would have smelled it before it wrecked the ceiling,’ Tanya added, and they all laughed.
When I got to English class, Derek was already there, watching me from his fave seat at the back. I stumbled right on cue. He didn’t miss one bit of it and I was glad to take my seat and turn my back to him.
The day couldn’t end soon enough.
Gym was my last class and predictably painful, even with Suzanne absent. Volleyball. Ugh. Whenever I hit the ball – which was infrequent – it went straight into the net.
Eventually, the last bell rang. Meagan was ignoring me, probably because I hadn’t showed at lunch.
I was late already, so I just headed out, reasoning that I’d patch things up with her later. I’d also have to think of a story to tell Mrs Jameson. Maybe a dentist appointment. I’d sent Isabelle a message and she’d agreed to meet me at a coffee shop at four. I’d met her at the same place a couple of other times. I had to take the bus and the L to get there, but I was used to that.
I like meeting up with Isabelle. In a way, she’s everything I want to be. In another, she’s been everything I want to be. It’s odd, hanging with someone who had your job before but doesn’t remember doing it.
Last spring, I discovered that she’s the previous Wyvern reincarnated. This would be incredibly useful, if she remembered all of the Wyvern goodness she once must have known and could thus help me get a grip on my slippery new powers.
Of course, it doesn’t work that way. Nothing about this Wyvern gig is easy. She doesn’t remember anything about a past life and is pretty much taking my word on the whole reincarnation thing.
Why am I so sure of who Isabelle was? Granny showed me. One thing I have learned is that what goes down in my dreams, especially when Granny is on the scene, proves to be real. Every time.
Maybe that’s a Wyvern trick.
Memory or not, there was no telling what Isabelle had inadvertently learned about the ring while growing up in Rafferty’s house. I still had hopes for more information.
Usually Isabelle’s in England – where Rafferty and his partner, Melissa, live – taking courses on tarot cards and auras while being effortlessly gorgeous. She’s older than me, but doesn’t get snotty about it. This year, Isabelle had decided to enroll in some exchange
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