Small Town Witch

1

The Perfect Family

I wrinkled my nose up as I walked in through the back door and saw the latest harvest from the garden. The kitchen was crowded with too many different smells, spicy and woody and sharp all mixed together. Freshly-cut herbs were piled on the table and counters. In the middle was my mother, Rosmerta, tying together bundles with twine so she could hang them up to dry.

Whew, it stinks. I opened the window, letting in a fresh breeze. Do you have to do all of that in here?

Why not? Mom pointed to a pile. Some of this is for the kitchen.

I picked up a piece of something and smelled it. It made me think of Italian food. What’s this one for?

That’s basil, she said in a sarcastic tone. I was thinking of making fresh pesto sauce for dinner tonight. Would you rather have pasta or pizza?

I rolled my eyes. I knew my family could afford to get take-out once in a while, and in the twenty-first century not all frozen dinners were disgusting, but she always insisted on making home-cooked meals for us every night. I didn’t have that kind of patience for cooking. Yes, but what kind of magical use does it have?

Mom sighed. As a witch, so she used all of these plants in her spells, and she tried to teach me how to use witchcraft, too. She looked at me. You’re supposed to remember these things, Rosamunde.

I could just write it all down to help me remember. I put down the basil and picked up a sprig of lavender. Or maybe I’d remember it better if you taught me the spells that I would actually use them in.

I only teach you as much as you’re ready for, she said for the hundredth time.

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, you keep saying that, but when am I ever going to be ready for anything? I’m probably one of the most responsible sixteen-year-olds ever. I get okay grades in school, I don’t get in trouble, I’ve never even scratched your car while driving, I always call to let you know where I am, and I come home on time.

Don’t make a mess, Mom said sharply.

I looked down at my hands and realized that I’d been picking apart the lavender piece by piece while I talked. I swept the bits into a little pile and looked up at her. Well?

Well, are you practicing all of your exercises like I taught you? You need discipline to learn magic.

She meant the deep-breathing exercises and meditations. They were so boring that they often put me to sleep. Yeah, um, sometimes, when I get the chance. But I’ve been doing the same things for years. Other than flying on my broom, you hardly ever let me do anything.

Mom raised her eyebrows at me. When you demonstrate discipline, then I’ll trust you to do more. If you don’t like the way that I teach witchcraft, you can learn sorcery at your school. She turned her back on me. I’m not going to argue with you, Rosamunde.

I opened my mouth to protest that sorcery was completely different from witchcraft, and did she really want her daughter to stop following in her footsteps? Glaring at my mom was hard, because even at sixteen I was still shorter than her. Since I’m only five-foot-four, most people were taller than me, but Mom was also really good at looking intimidating. She pulled herself up straight and loomed over me in a way that made me feel like I was five years old again.

I was interrupted by something insistent bumping into my leg. I looked down and saw a small black cat’s head. Oh, hi, Menolly, I cooed. I bent over so that I could scratch behind her ears. I didn’t see you there. All the stinky plants didn’t chase you out of the room?

Menolly sat back on her hind paws and arched her back so that her head lifted under my hand. She blinked her round, yellow eyes at me and then turned her head to rub her chin on my hand. I continued to pet her, and soon I managed to coax out a purr.

Mom cleared her throat loudly. I looked up at her, blinked, and then remembered that we’d been having an argument.

I’m sorry, Mom, I said. I went over and put my arm around her. I think you should make potato gnocchi with the pesto sauce for dinner. That was really good last time.

Mom nodded. I’ll see if I have any potatoes. Don’t you have a test to study for tomorrow?

I’m already on my way up to my room. I turned and left the kitchen.

The next morning, I repeated a familiar ritual: waiting for my sister to finish getting ready. I drummed my fingers on the banister and looked at the clock. We should have already left for school by now. Akasha, we’re going to be late! I called up the stairs. Get your butt in the car now!

The bathroom door opened and Akasha came out, head down and a scowl on her face. She was dressed in her school uniform, but her hair was still hanging down in messy curls. I haven’t done my braids yet.

You can do it on the way. We have to go now. I folded my arms and glared at her. She couldn’t use the hair excuse with me. I had the same long, thick curly hair and I knew enough to get up early so that I had time to braid it up properly before school.

Okay, you don’t have to yell at me. Akasha picked up her bag and started coming down the stairs.

I wouldn’t yell at you if you were ready on time. I’m the one driving you to school now, so that means I’m the one who has to be responsible for you. And today you’re setting new records for being slow.

Mom came out of the kitchen and gave us a hard look. Rosamunde, you don’t need to be that harsh with your little sister.

I whirled to face her. But she—

No arguing. Mom put her arm around Akasha and kissed her on the forehead. And you need to listen to your sister when she reminds you that it’s time to go. Hurry along now, girls, but don’t fight.

I rolled my eyes, but bit my tongue and waited while Akasha put on her shoes. When she finally had everything, I rushed to the garage. I didn’t know what Akasha’s problem was today, but I didn’t want to get in trouble for being late to school.

I was already backing the car out of the driveway when she turned to me with big, tear-filled eyes. Rosie, I don’t want to go.

The old, childish nickname annoyed me. My friends called me Rosa now. I stopped the car and shot her a look. You never want to skip school. Are you sick?

My sister screwed up her face and looked at the floor. Well, no, I feel fine—

I started the car again.

No, wait! she said. Can’t I just take a day off?

I can’t play hooky with you today. It’s my first social studies test, and I actually studied for it. I looked up at the house. Do you want to ask Mom to stay with you?

Akasha shook her head. No, I don’t want to bother her. Let’s just go.

Okay. I left the driveway.

Akasha turned and looked out the passenger window as we drove, still brooding. As my annoyance wore off, I began to wonder what was bothering her.

Why don’t you want to go to school today? Is something going to happen?

No. I just don’t feel like it, she said without turning around.

That doesn’t sound like you.

She said nothing. I thought about the past few weeks since school had started, and realized that Akasha had sounded less like herself for a while. She’d been sullen like this before, and she didn’t talk about her classes or teachers at all. I’d just been too busy to pay attention.

Time to be the big sister. Look, I said, everyone has a hard time adjusting to a new school. The work is harder in seventh grade and at a private school, but you knew that. I had problems when I started at Crowther too, remember? You just need to give it more time. Try to make some friends.

Akasha shook her head. Sarah’s parents pulled her out. She’s already switched to St. Teresa’s.

St. Teresa’s was another local private school—an all-girls Catholic school, with Bible readings and everything. It was a good school, but they’d never accept a witch as a student, or even a witch’s daughter.

I tried to remember the girl and failed. Who’s Sarah?

She was the only other human in my class.

Despite our town’s reputation, humans were still the majority over magikin. Out of four thousand people, less than a quarter of our neighbors had any magical family trees, but that was still more than the normal ten percent. Many of the humans also practiced magic. Mom and I were the only witches, but there were lots of sorcerers and most people knew how to do a few easy spells.

In the public schools, like Madrone Elementary where Akasha and I both went when we were younger, most of the students were human. Crowther Private Academy, the combination junior and senior high school where I’d been for four years and Akasha just started, was exceptional because it was small, only letting in twelve students each year, and most of the students—and teachers—were magikin. There were only five humans in my class, and all of us studied magic of one kind or another. Apparently Akasha’s class had even less, but that shouldn’t have made a difference.

I gave Akasha a pointed look. You had plenty of magikin friends in elementary school.

She pouted. That’s different.

How is it different? All of a sudden you have to start sticking with your own kind?

She shrugged and turned away. They’re the ones who want to stick with their own kind. I don’t belong at this school.

I sighed. No one feels like they belong in middle school. If they’re forming faeriekin cliques or whatever, it’s because they feel just as insecure as you do. You have to open up to them first if you want to make friends.

You wouldn’t understand. All of the faeriekin love you.

I stopped the car at an intersection and threw my hands up in the air. That’s because I make an effort! I talk to them, I hang out with them after school, I go to their parties and hang out at their Court. It doesn’t take magic to make friends, just being friendly.

Akasha started crying again. She rubbed her face. It’s not that easy for me. And even for you, your best friend is still a human like you. You’re just sucking up to the faeriekin because of the pact, but they’re not really your friends. Don’t you feel like they can’t really understand you?

I stared at her with my mouth open. How could you say that? Lindsey is just— I stopped and shook my head. All of my friends are good friends, and I’m not sucking up to anyone. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to at least get to know them before your test. Your thirteenth birthday is going to come up faster than you think.

Akasha looked up and glared at me. Would you and Mom just stop giving me such a hard time about the test? Ugh! I’m not even sure that I want to become a witch like you two!

I snorted. Don’t be stupid. I turned away and started driving again. Of course you want to be a witch. And you’ll make plenty of friends at school. You just started, give it some time.

Akasha turned her head away and looked out the window. I don’t think that we should fight about it any more.

I gripped the wheel tighter and didn’t say anything. I was trying to help her, not fight with her, and she wasn’t listening. Well, yelling about it wasn’t going to help anything. I just kept driving.

Crowther was chaotic first thing in the morning. There was always a long line of cars full of parents waiting to drop off their kids around the front of the old ranch mansion that had been converted into the school. The small paved parking lot was already full, reserved for staff. Students who brought their own cars had to drive around to the gravel lot on the far side of the new wing and walk back.

The yard was a stream of students, all clad in the black-and-white uniform. Seeing them from a distance made me think of those nature documentaries where the deep-voiced narrator points out that in a herd of zebras, all of the animals look the same, so that predators can't pick out an individual. It was the same way at school: there were naga tails and pookha ears here and there, but they all blended together as just another group of teens.

In the middle of this, a pale yellow horse came walking out of the trees, picking up her feet and raising her tail. On her back were two tall faeriekin, a boy and a girl. They were both blond and beautiful, but the girl looked that much more ethereal than the boy: finer features, pointed ears, perfect skin. They were Glen and Ashleigh, two of my classmates and friends. I waved to them as they rode by on their way to the stable.

At the front door, every student had to pass through the wards. Crowther had magitek locks which that keyed to recognize every student and staff member and keep out anyone who didn’t belong. A little bit of magic was needed to use the doors, so the first thing that anyone learned how to do was operate them.

But today, I realized that Akasha wouldn’t touch the doors herself. She waited for someone else to come along and open the door, and then grabbed it before it could swing closed again.

She held the door open and looked at me. Are you coming?

Just a minute. I took the door out of her hand and pushed it shut. Open it.

Akasha looked at the ground. I thought that you didn’t want to be late for your test.

Yeah, I just want to see you open the door.

Another group of girls came up behind us. One of them started to reach for the door. Wait, I said, putting out my hand again to stop her. Let my sister get it.

Akasha looked up and glared at me again.

The other girls looked at each other and smirked. They brushed past us and opened the door.

Before I could stop her, Akasha rushed to follow the other girls inside.

I shook my head, but let her run off to her own classroom. I had to hurry, but the worry that my sister was developing an aversion to magic lingered in the back of my mind.

I made it through the test and the classes after. My friends and I caught up on gossip in between the lessons. It wasn’t until lunch that I remembered my earlier conversation with Akasha. Then I found myself thinking over the things that she’d said and wondering what could really be going on.

I was eating in the dining hall with Lindsey, who had been my best friend since we started at Crowther. We sat together at one end of a long wood table. Some of the furniture at Crowther was part of the estate: polished wooden tables, carved chairs, fine lace curtains on the panoramic windows.

I thought maybe Lindsey would be able to help me understand my sister’s problem, because she was a human, too. I asked her, Do you think that it’s hard for us, being some of the only humans in our class?

Lindsey swallowed a bite of her sandwich and shrugged. Not really.

What about the first year?

She paused. I guess it took some getting used to. This school is different than the one I went to before. She looked at me and smiled. You were always nice to me, Rosa. We hung out so much that first year that I barely even missed my friends at my old school.

I ducked my head and blushed. Yeah, well, I didn’t have any friends here, either. It helped having someone else to talk to.

Lindsey nodded. I was so shy back then, do you remember? Even though Julie is super nice, I was too nervous to speak up in class or talk to anyone else. If I didn’t have you, I don’t know what I would have done. And look at me now! She grinned.

I laughed. Now it was hard to imagine Lindsey being quiet and shy, but she used to follow me everywhere. Do you remember how we used to braid each other’s hair every day before class?

Lindsey tossed back her brunette hair, which she wore in a short bob. Yes, I remember. And you still wear your hair up in a braid. You should let me style it sometime.

I started to reach out and touch her hair, but I stopped myself. I clenched my hand and put it back under the table. I liked you better with long hair.

Lindsey caught the movement and looked away from me. She cleared her throat. Why—why did you bring that up, anyways? About being human?

I had a weird talk with my sister this morning. She didn’t want to come to school.

Lindsey raised her eyebrows in surprise. Akasha never wants to skip school. Was it just a bad case of the Mondays?

I shook my head. She says she can’t make any friends because now she’s the only human in her class, so she hates school.

She’s the only one? Lindsey frowned. That’s gotta be hard for her. Your sister doesn’t make friends easily.

Yeah, but she says it’s their fault. She thinks they exclude her because she’s human, which is ridiculous. I mean, have you ever seen anyone at this school giving us a hard time?

Lindsey turned her head and looked around the dining hall. I think some kids do, especially when they first start here. If they went to a public school before, they were probably the ones who got excluded, and now that they’re at a school that accepts them, they can turn the tables a little bit. It’s not fair, but it happens. It tends to go away after a few years, though. The class is so small that we all end up being pretty close.

I stared at her. I don’t remember anyone getting picked on for not being human in school. I was never mean to the magikin students.

Elizabeth, one of our other classmates, overheard me from down the table. She scooted her chair closer to us. Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Elizabeth, or Zil for short, was a pookha, a kind of magikin known for playing tricks. She was a shapeshifter, but even in human form she had black horse’s ears, yellow eyes, and fine black hair on her arms and legs. I got picked on all the time when I was younger, and so did the other magikin kids I knew. I was so glad when I came to this school because everyone looks different, so I don’t stand out.

I’m sorry, I said quickly. But does that mean that you have to be mean to the humans here?

Zil glanced at Lindsey. I thought it was kind of weird that there were humans here at all, so I didn’t really talk to them at first. Now, I guess I’m just used to it. But why do humans come to this school in the first place?

Lindsey smiled at Zil. My first elective is art, but I’m studying sorcery here, too. I’m trying to find a way to incorporate magical techniques with fashion design, sort of like what the magitek shop does, but more— She waved her hand, searching for the right word. Creative.

Then Lindsey turned to me and said, I wouldn’t worry too much about your sister. School’s just started. She needs time to adjust.

Yeah, probably. I hoped that was true.

Zil rolled her eyes. Wanting to stay home from school just one day is hardly a problem. Your family’s always so perfect. It’s like you never fight about anything.

I frowned. That’s not true. I just had a fight with my mom yesterday.

Lindsey’s mouth dropped open. What happened?

I shrugged. We disagreed about some magic stuff. We made up after.

That’s what I mean. Zil shook her head. When I had a fight with my mom over the summer because she didn’t want to let me get my license, I didn’t talk to her for more than a week. Your family never has a real fight.

What’s wrong with it if we get along?

It’s kind of creepy, Zil said.

Whatever. I got up from the table. You guys are just jealous.

Zil smirked and went back to her lunch.

Lindsey stood up and hurried after me. Forget we said anything, she whispered. I hope things work out with your sister. And hey, are we still on for shopping later?

It’s already forgotten. I smiled at her. That’s the plan. I can drive if we drop my sister off at home first.

Lindsey nodded. Okay, sounds good.

After school, Lindsey and I hung out downtown. She wanted to check out the fabric store.

I’m looking for ideas for my Winter Solstice gown, she said.

Already? That’s months away. I looked around the store. They still have all the fall colors.

Lindsey fingered the bolts of fabric and pointed to a dark red. Some of this will work for winter, too. I just finished making my dress for the party this weekend, and with school, December is going to come up fast. I need to get started soon.

I ran my hand over the red fabric. This feels too rough for a dress. What kind of a design are you thinking about?

Lindsey shrugged. Something long and elegant that I can sweep around the ballroom in. She leaned closer and whispered, Peter asked me to go to the party with him on Friday.

I took a deep breath and tried not to let my disappointment show. When school started, Lindsey broke up with her previous boyfriend, Robert. Since then, we’d been spending a lot more time together. I didn’t think that she would find a new guy this fast.

I looked away. I thought we were going to the party together.

We weren’t going on a date or anything. You know I won’t do that again. She gave me a significant look.

I know, but—

You know how upset I’ve been about the break-up. I need to move on and have fun. She sighed. I thought you’d be happy for me.

I kept my face turned away from her. I am happy for you, Linds. I just wonder if you’re rushing into another relationship too fast.

I’m just going to a party with the guy. She sighed again, like a long-suffering mother hen. You should get a date for the party, Rosa. That way we can both have fun. Why don’t you ask Domenico if he’ll go with you?

I wrinkled up my nose. Why would I go out with Domenico?

Because, you know, he’s a sorcerer and you’re a witch—

I rolled my eyes. That’s not the same thing at all, and besides, he’s a jerk. All he ever does is make fun of other people.

She folded her arms. Okay, then who would you go out with? Is there a boy or a girl that you like?

I pretended to look at the fabrics and tried to make my voice sound casual. Maybe, you know, Kai. He’s nice. I glanced at Lindsey to see her reaction.

She made a face. Wouldn’t it be, I don’t know, weird?

I guess that depends on how you feel about tails. Kai was a kitsune, which meant that he could change between a human and a fox demon. He was young, so he only had one tail while in his fox form, but he liked to tease girls with it.

I’m less worried about the tails and more about, um, pointy teeth. I mean, wouldn’t that make kissing kind of awkward?

I shrugged. I don’t know. I’ve never tried it before.

Rosa! Lindsey shook her head. She pulled out a dark blue fabric and held it up next to my face. If you were going out with someone, you’d have to find a different dress than that old thing you always wear. Put a little effort into things, not like you did with me. And besides, I heard that Kai is seeing a girl from another school.

Oh. Well, I don’t really have time to date, anyways. I looked at the fabric. It’s too dark. I like bright blue.

You’re so picky, Lindsey grumbled.

And that’s why I always end up wearing the same dress. It’s exactly what I want. I held up some dark green velvet.

Lindsey looked at the green and shook her head. Too Christmas-y. So you’re just going to go to the party by yourself? I’m sorry.

I shrugged. "It’s not a big deal. I doubt everyone is bringing