Guardian of Atlantis (The Children of Atlantis) (2 page)

Raven shrugged her shoulders. “I like working with clay, that’s all.” She figured playing it cool was the best way to handle the situation, because she wasn’t even sure why it was so easy for her to manipulate the clay. It was almost like she talked to it. But how could she explain
it
without sounding crazy?

“I think it’s more than that. I think you inherited your mother’s talent.”

Raven laughed. Suzanne Weir had about as much creativity in her whole body as a stone and her mom was the first one to admit it.

“Did I say something funny?” asked Mrs. Orson.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got my mom mixed up with someone else’s mom, because my mom is not a creative person. She prefers numbers and stuff like that.”

“
Ohh
, I see.” The woman stared at Raven. Her face was unreadable. “Maybe I have confused her with someone else. But I doubt it. Your talent is rare. Only one other has the ability to manipulate the clay the way Ms. Tamers said you can.”

Raven shrugged. Several students, including the girls who had laughed at her hair earlier, stopped what they were doing and listened. “There are others way better than me. And I’m sure there are several here.” Raven didn’t want her talent to make her stand out.

“I doubt it,” Ms. Orson’s cold reply sent shivers down Raven’s spine. “There’s an empty seat at that workstation.” She gestured to the table next to the girls who had laughed at Raven, then turned her attention to another student. Raven knew she was dismissed and sighed in relief.

“Well, look who’s found one of her classrooms,” said the blonde.  “And I thought they were going to send you back to your old school where you belong.
So much for wishful thinking.”

Raven took her seat. She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying something she would regret. Maybe if she ignored them, they would get the hint and shut up.

“You’ll talk to the teacher but you won’t talk to us?” the blonde raised an eyebrow.
“How rude!”

“She thinks she’s too good for us. That’s her problem,” said the girl sitting next to the blonde. “Must have been a teacher’s pet and thinks she’s going to be one now.”

“You know, I think you’re right. But she will learn her place at this school.” The blonde glared at Raven. “And it’s definitely at the bottom. Basement level bottom.”

“Why don’t you shut up and leave me alone.” Realizing her hands were clenched into fists, Raven made sure to keep them in her lap, hidden from everyone’s sight. It would be suicide if anyone saw how bad the blonde affected her.

“
Oooo
!
Brave for a worm like you. And that’s what you are, a lowly worm. Best learn that now.
Basement worm.”

“Whatever,” mumbled
Raven.

“Ladies.
What’s going on?” Ms. Orson stepped between the girls’ workstations. “Elizabeth?”

“Nothing, Ms. Orson.
I was just making friends with the new girl.” Elizabeth gave her a huge smile. Ms. Orson’s icy stare had no effect on the girl. “But she wouldn’t even introduce herself.”

“Raven?”

“Nothing.”
Raven shrugged her shoulders.

Ms. Orson stared at Raven then Elizabeth before turning her attention back to Raven. “Raven, let’s get you set up with some clay. I believe the rest of you have projects that need your attention.”

Raven followed the woman to the far side of the classroom. Several large plastic tubs lined the shelves. Next to them sat an assortment of mats.

“The pink boxes have different tools you can use. Pick a mat and get some clay from one of the tubs.”

Raven nodded and grabbed a mat from the top of the stack. She opened the tub next to the stack of mats. The intense odor of wet clay engulfed her. Raven sighed.

“I expect something extraordinarily fabulous from you. Nothing less will do.” Ms. Orson patted Raven on the shoulder.

Raven barely dipped her head in a nod. She quickly grabbed some clay and went back to her workstation. No one even glanced at her. They were busy working on their own projects.

For a few seconds Raven stared at the large lump of clay in front of her. She closed her eyes and let her hands glide over the wet clay. A peaceful calm came over her an
d slowly she kneaded
it. Several minutes later, Raven stopped kneading and opened her eyes. All the tiny air bubbles were gone from the clay. It was ready for her to coax it into an interesting shape.

Raven let her mind wander. An image of a single rose lying across a book appeared in her mind. She focused on the image and her hands went to work on the clay. Time slipp
ed away from Raven as the clay changed from just a lump into a work of art
.

“Raven, that’s absolutely gorgeous. If I didn’t know better I’d think you had dipped a real rose in liquid clay.”

Raven looked up and blinked. Ms. Orson stood in front of the table. Her hands clasped together and her mouth resting on her fingertips.

“All right class. It’s time to clean up. Raven, there’s a box of trash bags under the tubs. Use one of them to cover your project.” Ms. Orson turned her attention to the rest of the class, answering questions and commenting on various pieces the students were creating.

Raven put the extra clay she had back into one of the tubs. Finding the trash bags on the bottom shelf, she grabbed one and headed back to her workstation. Raven came to a dead stop several feet from her table. Her rose sculpture was gone.

“Did you lose something?” asked Elizabeth. The girls sitting around her burst into laughter.

“What did you do?” Raven glared at Elizabeth.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Where is my sculpture?”

Elizabeth, in a dramatic gesture, leaned to her left side. “Do you mean that lump of clay on the floor behind your desk?” She rolled her eyes.

Raven whipped around the workstation. Her mouth fell open. The smashed remains of her rose sculpture were scattered all over the floor, and the mat was stuck under her chair.

“You really should be more careful. At least it was just your work and not someone else’s,” said Elizabeth. “That would have been horrible.”

“What is your problem?” Raven whirled around, coming face-to-face with Elizabeth.

“My only problem is you.”

“Why did you destroy my sculpture?” Raven raised her voice.

“I didn’t do anything!” yelled Elizabeth.

“Ladies!
What is going on?”  Ms. Orson appeared just as the release bell rang.

“She’s accusing me of doing something to her sculpture. Really, why would I do something like that?” She gestured to the torn, smashed remains on the floor.

Ms. Orson looked at the floor behind Raven’s workstation. “Raven, what happened to your work?” She looked from the floor to Raven and then back at the floor.

“Someone destroyed it,” said Raven. She looked at Elizabeth.

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know why she’s blaming me.”

Ms. Orson glared at Elizabeth. “Just go to your next class. Now!
And Raven, you’re to clean up your
mess. I can’t believe you were so careless with your work. I expected
so much more from you than this
.”

“But I didn’t do it,” said Raven.

Ms. Orson just shook her head.
“Just clean up this mess.”

“What about the person who did this? Aren’t you going to make her at least help?” Raven’s voice shook slightly from the anger growing inside her.

“Did you see who did it?” Ms. Orson’s arms were neatly folded in front of her.

Raven’s cheeks turned red. “No but—”

“I can’t punish someone just because you think he or she did something.
You have to have proof. So it
leaves you cleaning up your workstation.” Ms. Orson turned her back to Raven and walked away.

“Have fun.” Elizabeth waved. Laughter filled the room and followed the girls out the door along with the rest of the students.

Raven kicked the
chair out of her way. “I hate this school! I hate it! I hate it!”

“Control your temper otherwise it will end up costing you dearly.” Ms. Orson stood just inside the classroom door.

“I don’t have a temper.” Raven threw the mat onto the table a little harder than was necessary. It made a loud plop.

“I remember your mother saying that too and we all know what happened to her as a result of her temper.” A smug look crossed the woman’s face.

Raven put the last of the clay onto the mat. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. My mom doesn’t have a temper.” She scooped the mat and the remains of her sculpture into the black trash bag and tied it close. “My mom is a kind, gentle person.”

“You honestly don’t know do you?” asked Ms. Orson.

“Know what?” Raven grabbed her book bag and pushed the chair under the table.

“You look too much like her. I know I’m not wrong. If I recognize you, others will too.”

Raven stared at the art teacher while her brain processed the information. “And who is this person I’m supposed to look like?”
she asked.
Nothing about this conversation made any sense.

Ms. Orson blinked slowly several times. “Here.” She held out a pink slip of paper.

“Who do I look like?” Raven ignored the paper.

“Take the pass and go to your next class.” She waved the paper at Raven.

“But I want—”

“Go!”

Raven grabbed the paper and left the room. Thick waves of frustration and anger rolled off of her, sending the few students still in the hallway scurrying away from her.

The rest of the morning was a blur of students and classwork.  At lunch Raven sat with Leslie, Bree, and Ari, who kept a steady stream of conversation going which was fine with Raven because she didn’t have to talk much. After lunch, in a flurry of hugs, the girls split up and headed to their first afternoon classes.

“I see you got your mess cleaned up.” Elizabeth stood just outside Raven’s next classroom.

“No thanks to you.” Raven tried going around Elizabeth but she stepped in front of Raven. “Would you get out of my way?” Raven tried stepping around her again.

“You need to leave.” Elizabeth stepped in front of Raven again.

“Excuse me?”

Elizabeth moved closer to Raven. “You’re not safe here. They know you’re here. You need to leave.
This school.
This town,” she whispered.

“Do what?” Raven stepped back. “What’s your problem?”

“You.
You’re my problem.”

Raven shook her head. For a minute, it sounded like Elizabeth was warning her. She must have heard wrong.

“I don’t like you. You’ve got stupid looking hair. I can’t believe they let you in here. I mean, it’s hard to believe any school would let a loser like you even walk through the front doors. Let me guess, you’ve been home schooled and this is your first time attending a school of any kind. Isn’t it?” Elizabeth put a hand on her hip. She raised an eyebrow as her lips curled up into a sneer.

“You’re awfully brave. I don’t see any of your friends around.” Raven stepped closer to Elizabeth.

“Oh they’re around. Just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not here. But I don’t need them to take care of you.”

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t leave me alone. Now get out of my way.” Raven couldn’t believe the nerve the girl had. She’d come across bullies before, but never one who targeted her like Elizabeth was.

“Why don’t you just leave? You’re not wanted here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to me.” Raven crossed her arms.

“What is all this yelling?”

Both girls jumped at the sound of the voice.

Raven looked up and groaned. Her day couldn’t get any worse.

“Raven Weir, you still haven’t learned your lesson, have you?” asked the teacher wearing the dark pin-striped suit. “I don’t know about your previous school, but here at Pinewood High, students aren’t allowed to threaten other students.”

“I wasn’t threatening anyone. I was trying to get to my class when she stopped me.” Raven rolled her eyes, wondering why everyone seemed out to get her.

“Elizabeth, is that true?”

“Why would I want to stop anyone from going to a class?” Elizabeth’s answer was a little too sugary sweet. “I was just trying to make sure she got to the right class.”

“How kind of you.
But I believe Raven Weir is exactly where she belongs—World History with me.”

Elizabeth paled. “I thought you said you were in Professor Snyder’s history class. You didn’t tell me you were in Ms. Myers’s.”

“You didn’t ask,” said Raven. The same powerful undercurrent that she had felt that morning was back, except it was stronger. From the look on Elizabeth’s face, she felt it too, and it affected her more than it did
Raven
.