Alchemist Academy: Book 1 (4 page)

“I created a blue stone.”

“Did it have white swirls around it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up, but he still looked hot. “You made something she couldn’t, something most people can’t.”

I shook my head and frowned. “What are
you
trying to say? Is your mom some kind of witch?”

“No,” he whispered. “She’s got the
touch
, just like you, but she barely has it. She wasn’t good enough at the academy and they booted her.” He glanced back at his house. “She’s more than pissed about it.”

“Okay.” I dragged out the O. “Well, I’ve got to get going. Hope you and your mom have had fun messing with me.”

Mark stepped closer. “I’m not messing with you, but I don’t want you to come over here anymore. It isn’t safe. She’ll use you again.”

What I heard was,
“I don’t want to be with you.”

“Fine.” I stood in front of the fence and searched for the gate opening.

He grabbed the top of the fence and pulled it open. Bowing, he swayed his arm toward the door, granting me entrance to my own yard. I started to walk through the gate.

“This doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you again,” he said.

I stopped and turned back to him, smiling. “I’d like to see you as well.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for losing it back there, but if you knew what my mom does to people like you….”

“Use my magical powers to make stuff. I get it.”

He laughed. “It wouldn’t be so funny if you knew how close you are to the truth. I tell you what, I’ll see if I can prove it to you tomorrow at school,” he said.

“You’re going to Summerford High?”

“Yeah. Did you think I was some kind of dropout?”

“No, I just … I don’t know what I thought.” The words clogged in my throat and terrible thoughts raced through my mind. With his looks, he’d be swallowed up in a second by the Dolls, but if he was with me… Excitement spread through me. With Mark at my school, things were going to be interesting.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” was all I got out.

Janet drove us to school the next day, while the bike and sidecar were being repaired. She said she’d expect me to do extra chores until every cent was paid back. I didn’t argue the demand. What would be the point? Besides, I was searching for a particular face among the throng of students moving around in front of the school.

I didn’t see him out front as I left the car.

When I entered the school, hubbub filled the main hall: the clatter of lockers and shifting feet. I tried to walk tall, looking over the heads of the underclassmen walking around. Mark was tall enough to stand out in the crowd, but I didn’t see him anywhere. After a while, I felt foolish for looking and walked to class.

“Hello, Allie,” Mr. Briggs greeted me from behind his desk.

“Hey,” I said.

It was a few minutes before class was supposed to start and only a few kids were in the room. As I scanned their faces, some glanced up at me, but not one made an attempt at a human greeting. Tommy leaned back in his chair and gave me a nod with a look that belonged in a selfie. His tight sports shirt clung to him as he flicked back his blond highlighted hair.

Mr. Briggs asked, “Allie, what did you do on fire day?”

“Oh, nothing much.”
I just made some blue stone in a glass bowl for some weird alchemist witch.

I darted to my desk at the back of the room.

As each person walked into the room, I perked up with anticipation, only to be let down when they weren’t Mark. Then the Dolls strolled in, led by Bridget. She was wearing short shorts and a tight T-shirt with the words
Grand Tetons
stretched across her chest. I pulled my eyes away from the glaring attention grab and watched her shoes step toward me: white slingbacks with a pink bow near the toes. Who wears heels with short shorts? But dammit if she didn’t pull them off.

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at me before she swung around into the seat two in front of me.

The bell rang. I looked at the clock and settled into my chair. Mark wasn’t in my class.

“Everybody chill down and let’s just rap for a minute,” Mr. Briggs said. “I want to talk about the fire yesterday. It appears to be an act of vandalism, and if you hear anything or know anything, let me or any other teacher know.”

It was probably a kid who
really
didn’t want to go to school. I laughed to myself at his request. Like anyone would come forward and rat out another person for getting everyone out of school for the day. Even though I was pissed about having to spend much of the day around Spencer, I wouldn’t say a thing. Let the teachers figure it out.

The classroom door opened and Mark strolled in. I leaned forward and took him in as he handed Mr. Briggs a piece of paper. I had hoped he would wear something plain, something awful, but he hadn’t obeyed my wishes and was wearing black slacks with black shoes and several perfectly layered shirts. He’d even styled his hair to frame his face. He looked even hotter than before, and it didn’t take long for the rest of the class to take notice.

The Dolls exchanged open-mouthed glances, and my heart sank. There was absolutely no way they wouldn’t snag him.

Mark looked at the class and did a double take when he saw me. Our eyes met, but Bridget must have thought he was looking at her, because she gave him a small wave. She tilted her legs into the aisle, making sure he saw her tanned, silky legs.

Mr. Briggs stood up from his desk. “Class, we have a new student, Mark Duval.”

The class greeted him with a mixture of grunts and hellos. Mark waved to the class as a whole and smiled. I wanted to grab his warm, beautiful smile and keep it for myself. I didn’t want the rest of the class to share in it.

“You can share a desk and a book until we get you one of your own.” Mr. Briggs handed him a folding chair and gestured toward the class.

“Okay, thanks.” Mark looked at me and nodded.

Again, Bridget missed the difference of inches in his stare. Maybe she never even thought it was possible for someone like Mark to look past her, but she shuffled her books and slid her chair over to make room. The other Dolls slumped in their chairs as they expected Mark to sit next to Bridget.

But he didn’t. He never even looked as he passed her. His smile was all for me.

“Hey, Allie,” Mark said.

I felt the heat from Bridget’s stare and I did a quick glance to confirm. She scowled at me and then at Mark’s back. Swinging around, hair whipping, she sat rigid and upright, her hands clasped on the desk. She scooted her butt sideways and centered her chair with the desk.

“Hey, Mark.” I moved over to make room.

“Pretty cool we’re in the same class.”

“Yeah, small world.”

After a few hours, I started getting used to being elbow-to-elbow with him. I could tell he was a serious student. He didn’t fake his interest in Mr. Briggs’ lecture; it was genuine.

I watched him from time to time and he’d catch me and smile before returning to the lecture. He and I shared the history book and he read it intently, like I would a Jane Austen novel, his eyes ping-ponging back and forth as he devoured each page.

“You done with this page?” he asked.

“Yes.” I wasn’t, but I didn’t care. I’d already read most of the book at my leisure.

He turned the page. I skimmed through it and then purposefully leaned in closer to him, fake-reading the right side of the page.

The lunch bell rang.

Mark looked up, disappointed. “I guess we’d better get some food.” He stood up. “Come on. You can show me around.”

I nodded and followed Mark out the classroom door. The loud hall didn’t give me a chance to tell him where we were going, so I pointed and he followed. I led him to the end of the hall and to the back door.

He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned close to me as we shuffled through the crowded doorway. “I like your outfit.”

I’d wondered if he’d notice my low-cut white tank and black jacket, basically the only thing I owned that even resembled fashion. I’d even tried on my makeup this morning. “Thanks. You look nice as well.” I turned so he couldn’t see me and closed my eyes. I swore I’d find something witty to say to him at some point.

Past the door and down the stairs, the crowd of kids split up. The open eating area was called the “quad.” I surveyed the area, looking for the place everyone else bought lunch. Typically, I brought my lunch and scurried off to my tree, but Mark wasn’t carrying anything with him. He was a buyer.

“I think it’s over there,” I said.

“That’s the gym,” he laughed. “Maybe
I
should be taking
you
to the food court.” He took my hand and pulled me into the motion of the crowd.

I resisted for a second before allowing his contact and direction. Glancing around, I wondered if anyone else was watching us holding hands. Mark seemed to think nothing of it and I tried to match his confidence, strolling next to him, keeping my hand intertwined with his. A few eyes turned my way and I lowered my head, moving closer to him.

He let go of my hand, wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me snug against his side. “Lift your head up, Allie.” He laughed when I lowered my head more. “You’re so cute.”

He led me to the chimichanga line. I’d seen a few other kids carrying around this treat on plates, but I never wanted to wait in line for one. I was curious, though. The thought of a deep fried burrito was intriguing.

In a matter of seconds, Mark had started up a conversation with someone standing next to us. He released me and shook hands with the guy.

“Me? Santa Fe, New Mexico.”

I raised an eyebrow at Mark’s declaration. What happened to Baker, California and the world’s largest thermometer? I looked up as Mark conversed with Tommy, of all people. Tommy glanced at me a few times, but seemed more interested in talking with Mark.

A breeze kicked up a scent—bubblegum and slut. Bright colors hit the corner of my eye, forcing my attention to the approaching Dolls. I positioned myself on the other side of Mark as they approached.

Bridget took point in their triangle of skank. She strutted with one long leg in front of the other. It was a waste of time, however, because Mark never looked up to appreciate the display. He kept talking about some sport or other and Tommy was eating it up, laughing and joking along.

“Hey.” Bridget announced her arrival.

Mark turned and looked at her. “Hello.”

“So, you’re the new guy, and we wanted to welcome you to Summerford High.” She talked in a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Thanks. It’s been a friendly town.” Mark glanced at me and smiled.

I strategically kept him between me and Bridget.

Bridget leaned to her left and tilted her head, making eye contact with me. “Is that Allie back there? You know, Mark,” she flirted, shifting her attention to him, “you could hang with us over at the gym bleachers.” She pushed her Tetons forward, but Mark showed no interest in her mountain chain.

“Thanks, but I’m going to hang with Allie.”

No one ever brushed Bridget off, and I watched her face crunch up with confusion and anger.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m in line with Allie. I don’t want to hang with you at the bleachers.”

A few people in the chimichanga line oohed. Bridget’s head jerked around at the people in line who were mocking her. She stopped moving, raised an eyebrow, and then a stupid I-know-a-secret grin covered her face. She wagged a finger and laughed. “Oh, I get it. You’re one of
those
guys.” She jutted her pinky nail back and forth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on.” She pointed at me. “Is she your hag? Or is she some makeover project you plan on submitting to Bravo?”

The Dolls laughed and cuddled together. The line froze in silence.

I looked at Mark’s face. He didn’t seem to care at all about the comments, offering only a smirk of amusement. But I wasn’t as calm and accepting of someone trashing one of my friends.

I rushed for Bridget with my fists clenched. Mark put a hand on me and held me back. Bridget noticed my aggression and laughed again.

“Let her go. Bring it on, bitch,” she said.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Mark whispered in my ear. “It’s what her type wants. You’re better than they are.”

“Yeah, keep holding your hag back, twink,” Bridget taunted.

Mark sighed and kept his hand on me. I wanted to punch her stupid face. He faced her and stuffed his hand in his pocket for a second. I thought he was holding something in his hand, but then it was gone.

The chimichanga line had all but stopped as each person turned to watch the spectacle unfold.

“Bridget, I know you don’t mean what you say. People aren’t born like this.” He pointed at her. “They’re made. So, what’s your story? What made you this way? Was it some guy?”

Bridget’s eyes went wide and she looked at her friends. “You don’t know me.”

“A college guy, I think. He probably said all the right things one night, and then you made the terrible mistake of thinking you’d found true love. Didn’t you?”

“Shut up!”

“You didn’t realize how much alcohol he was bringing you. You trusted him. You worried he could never like a person like you, but he did for a little bit, didn’t he?”

“How…” she stammered. “You don’t know shit,” she said, but I saw the tears building in her eyes.

What was Mark doing, and how?

“And then he did things to you, didn’t he? Terrible things.”

She wiped her nose and looked at the people surrounding her, judging her. Tears streamed down her face. I put a hand on Mark, but he pulled away and stepped closer to Bridget.

“Only it wasn’t just him. Everyone got a turn, didn’t they?”

Bridget’s face became red with anger. She pointed her finger and opened her mouth, but Mark cut her off.

“I want you to know it wasn’t your fault. You’re a beautiful person, Bridget, just not on the inside. You’ve let this guy ruin you. He made you this way. You’re letting him win. You need to forgive him, not for him but for you. Screw the asshole who made you this way. Kick him in the balls a million times in your head if you have to, but stop being a bitch to the people around you. If you can act like a human being, I’ll be here for you—
we’ll
be here for you.” Mark grabbed my shoulder and held me.