T*Witches 3: Seeing Is Deceiving (3 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

THE SUBSTITUTE

“Can you believe Coach Mills just added another practice to the schedule? And that new rule? Miss a practice without a valid excuse and you’re off the team? It’s taking that zero-tolerance thing where it was never meant to go.” Cam tried to come off offended about their school soccer team’s tough new policy, but even to her own ears she sounded phony.

It was last-period social studies. The bell had rung a few minutes earlier, but their teacher was tardy, so the entire class of tenth graders was taking an extended gab op. Cam had flipped around to face Beth, who sat directly behind her. All day long she’d been trying to make up with her. All day long the frizzy-topped brunette had resisted,
giving Cam the cold shoulder. No big. Cam firmly believed she was wearing her down.

A belief that was totally borne out when Beth slipped Cam a folded note.
Don’t open it now,
she mouthed, indicating the others in the class.

Cam took the note and rattled on, “I guess Coach thinks we need it. We haven’t exactly been racking up wins this year.”

Brianna Waxman, petite and wired, was in the seat next to Beth. With a toss of her blond-on-blond highlighted hair, she smoothly slipped into their convo. “Reality check: Maybe Coach is trying to prevent a rerun of last year’s disaster.”

Ouch. Leave it to Bree to point out AGAIN that Cam blew the championship for them last year. And leave it to Beth to
not
point it out. Cam stashed Beth’s note inside a book in her backpack, to read later.

Beth turned on Bree. “For most of the season, the Marble Bay Meteorites ruled. Cam was the reason why. End of story.”

As if Bree was letting Beth have the last word. With a shrug of her pointy shoulders, she added, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we could use another A-list player. What about Alex? Sure you can’t get her to sign up?”

Cam shook her head. “Not gonna happen. My newfound clone prefers it alone. She’s such not the joiner.”

“Speaking of which,” Beth noted, nodding toward the front of the classroom, “seems our regularly scheduled teacher has decided not to join us after all.”

Bree looked up and chortled, “Substitute teacher alert!”

Before Cam could flip around to see the new teacher, she heard the substitute call out, “Settle down, people. Give me your attention!”

Cam felt her insides turn to jelly.

She didn’t have to turn around, nor did she need Alex’s hyperkeen hearing. Cam recognized that scratchy voice.

It couldn’t be!

Cam twisted slowly in her seat. And locked eyes with the one person in the world she never expected to see again.

The
shoplifter?!

Her hair was jet-black now and pulled back into a bun. But her eyes, the ones Cam had seen behind the sunglasses, dark and buglike, bored into Cam. Without seeming surprised, she explained to the class, “Your regular teacher, Ms. Jameson, was called away on a family emergency. It may take several weeks until she returns. I’m Cecilia Webb and for the foreseeable future, I’ll be running this class.”

Cam’s breath caught in her throat. A zillion questions buzzed in her brain. But she’s a thief! She can’t be a teacher … can she? I knew it! We should have reported her! Is she following me? And … loudest of all:
Alex! Where are you now that I need you?

Alex was not in this class. She had PE last period.

Cam didn’t think she could make it through the forty-eight-minute period alone. Desperately, she tried to telepathically connect with Alex. But her twin was too far away. Neither had been able to do that from much of a distance. She had to get closer.

Her hand shot up.

Ms. Webb responded with a withering glance. “A question, Miss … what
is
your name?”

“May I… please be excused? I left something in my locker,” Cam stuttered.

“I asked what your name is.”

Flushed, she responded, “Camryn Barnes. Please. I… kind of… need a book for this class.”

“Request denied.” Then, in a tone that matched her withering stare, she added, “Camryn Barnes.”

Beth let out a low whistle, shocked.

Taken aback, Bree whispered, “Harsh.”

Cam had to deal. Alone.

Cecilia Webb took charge of the class swiftly. She
told them that she intended to pick up where Ms. Jameson left off, that she would not tolerate students who regarded substitutes as an excuse to slack off.

The world history unit they were on was “Presidents, Prime Ministers, and People in Power,” and the slithery substitute delved into it, calling on kids at random to see if they were prepared. Cam actually was — but no one could have guessed it from her pfumpfering.

“What President was the first U.S. secretary of state?” That was Cam’s question. She totally knew the answer was —? It would come to her…. It was … uh — no, not Madeleine Albright. Uh …

“Thomas Jefferson.” Right, except it was Beth who said it. Ms. Webb frowned, so Beth hastily added, “Oh, was that one for Cam? I thought you were looking at me.”

Cecilia Webb regarded Beth suspiciously. “Thank you, Miss —”

“Fish, Beth,” she answered with a bright smile. “And, ooops, sorry. I’ll be more careful to only answer the questions directed at me.”

Bree whispered, “Suck up much?”

But Webb bought Beth’s excuse. She smiled right back at the freckled student. “An understandable error. And the correct answer is always appreciated. Now, this one is for Miss Barnes.”

Thankful for Beth’s save, Cam responded, “George Bush — the first one,” to the question, “What President was formerly U.S. ambassador to the U.N. and head of the CIA?”

Her “turn” over, Cam tuned out for the rest of the period. She and Alex had not told anyone, not Dave nor Emily nor her brother, Dylan, about thwarting the shoplifting. They hadn’t even spoken about it themselves. Last night, they hadn’t thought there was much else to say about it.

Wrong.

Could it just be some galactic coincidence that the woman they’d caught shoplifting now turned into a substitute teacher? She needed Alex.

Cam didn’t see her sister for the next several hours. No fan of Marble Bay High, Alex usually bolted when the final bell rang. She’d probably be halfway home — or wherever Als might decide to detour — by the time Cam deposited her books in her locker.

And Cam could not dash home today. Soccer practice was directly after class. In spite of her screwup last year, Cam was still the team’s best hope for a championship.

When the bell rang, Cam, Bree, and Beth were
nearly to the door, when Ms. Webb called out, “Miss Fish, may I have a word with you?” Her tone, for the first time that day, was open and friendly. She added, “Just for a moment. You’ll catch right up with your friends.”

Don’t!
Cam wanted to scream. She nearly grabbed Beth’s elbow to stop her. But Beth had already said, “Go ahead, I’ll meet you guys on the field.”

Cam was hyperventilating. This was so about her! Webb was totally going to pump Beth for info about Cam. Webb would want to know if Cam recognized her. And how much Cam had told Beth about the shoplifting.

Practice did not go well. Correction: Cam did not play well. Instead of focusing on the plays, she kept checking her watch. Where
was
the girl? What was Webb asking Beth about Cam? How long was Webb going to hold her after class?

A half hour. Thirty-four minutes, to be exact. That’s how late Beth was to practice, a fact that Coach insisted on noting — although staying late in class for a teacher conference was a valid excuse.

In the locker room after practice, Cam finally got a moment to talk to her friend alone. Trying to mask her anxiety, she said, “What the dilly-yo with the substitute? Don’t tell me she gave you a hard time.”

Beth scrunched her forehead. “No dilly-yo, really. She’s just trying to get her bearings. It’s kinda hard being
dropped in to someone else’s class three months into the semester.”

“Did she say anything about me?” Cam asked nervously.

“No,” Beth responded coolly.

“You were there for a long time with her.”

Beth shrugged, annoyed now. “We got to talking. I guess I didn’t notice the time.”

“Talking — if not about any of the students, or the work, then what?”

“It was interesting. Ms. Webb was telling me how she loves teaching, what a wonderful feeling she gets helping kids realize their potential.” Beth continued earnestly, “Then she mentioned she does a lot of volunteer work, because that also gives her a great sense of satisfaction.”

I’ll bet,
Cam thought as an uneasy feeling washed over her.

Jittery, but trying to keep her voice light, Cam asked, “But you didn’t, like, sign up for any volunteer thing with her, did you?”

“In fact, I did,” Beth said.

CHAPTER FIVE

TUNING OUT

Alex was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Dylan’s room next to him.

The volume on the amplifiers had been turned up to earsplitting. No wonder Dylan didn’t hear Cam come blasting through the front door, shouting her twin’s name. No normal person could. Alex could.
Her
decision to ignore Cam was deliberate.

Alex wasn’t peeved at her sister. She just didn’t want to tip Dyl off to her extraordinary aural ability. Though not a warlock, Dylan was no dummy: He’d deduce something was up. It was hard enough keeping their powers secret from the rest of the world — hiding them from the brother they lived with was a whole
’nother challenge. Besides, she was having fun. So no matter what her soccer-babe sis was bellowing about, Cam could wait.

Dylan was sharing something with her. The boy was all about music, and for the past several hours he’d been riffing joyously, courtesy of the brand-spanking-new electric guitar he’d received from Dave and Emily.

“Listen to this!” Dylan would go, over and over, eyes closed, as his nimble fingers flicked across the six-string, bending and moving the sound like an electric poet. And, “Oh, man, no wait — listen to this!”

“Sweet!” Alex would respond, over and over again as she sang along, and every once in a while, offered an original lyric.

If Dylan was all about playing, she was all about composing. Not that she’d ever had anything this expensive to compose on exactly. The cheesy third and fourth-hand excuse-for-guitars she’d had back in Montana could never come close to making any sounds like this.

Music was a secret Alex had kept from family Barnes. She hadn’t told them what it meant to her, but somehow Dylan had sensed it.

What he couldn’t know were the bittersweet memories it brought. Music would always remind Alex of her mom.

Sara.

It was one connection they could count on. When they had nothing, they still had music. Correction: Alex had a gift for it. And Sara had a gift for listening, singing along (tunelessly) with her daughter. To Alex, Sara’s off-key vocals were the most beautiful she would ever hear. She would never be able to listen to the classic “Sara Smile” — their favorite — without bawling.

She’d not picked up a guitar, or even listened to much music, since Sara got sick. It had been a
long
time.

Except that now, as she and Dylan harmonized, Alex felt a glimmer, and she remembered: the rush of creating, of that magical moment when the sound was exactly right. There were times she felt her own veins and arteries to be guitar strings, as if the music played her.

Dylan was offering a tangible gift, too. His old guitar. Old! Only in this family would it be considered dispensable. It just so happened to be a Taylor acoustic, made of tiger maple wood. Alex knew it was costly, rare even.

No way could she take it! She’d been dead serious about not accepting gifts from clan Barnes, refusing Emily’s offer of new clothes, Dave’s for a personal laptop.

No way could she not! What was Dylan going to do with it anyway, she rationalized as her fingers lingered over the exquisite blond spruce face. It was probably just going to sit around, unused.

And it was being offered by a boy she really had no trouble thinking of as family. Strange.

Dylan was Emily and Dave’s bio-baby; Cam had lived with him all her life, and it had been clear to Alex that Cam and Dylan shared a bond. In this equation, Alex would be one sister too many.

But a funny thing happened on the way to Barnes family dynamics class: Als had somehow bonded with Dylan. Cam was the one who sometimes felt pushed aside.

That feeling reared its envious head when Cam finally figured out where her sister was — she came barreling into the room, and, when her shouting and motioning didn’t get Alex’s attention, in one swift, impulsive motion, pulled the plug on the amplifier. The sudden silence shook the room.

“Whoa! What the … what’d you do that for?” Dylan jerked his head up.

Hands on her hips, Cam said churlishly, “I need to talk to Alex. She knows this. She totally heard me calling. Yet somehow, she chose to ignore me. This seemed like the best way of getting through to her.”

At least I didn’t blow up the amplifier,
Cam said telepathically to Alex.
I could have made sparks fly, you know!
Cam’s ability to set things on fire was her favorite guilty pleasure.

Douse the flames, firestarter-girl,
Alex replied.
Whatever it is you’ve come to tell me probably isn’t worth huffing and puffing and burning the house down.

Dylan looked puzzled. “Dude, how could she know? Neither of us heard you. And all you had to do was turn the volume down, not stomp in here like some crazy banshee. Chill out!”

“Chill?” Cam gritted her teeth. If she were any colder, stalagmites and stalagtites would sprout from her ribs. “I don’t exactly feel like chilling right now, bro. So you’ll excuse me, Donny, if I borrow Marie for a while.”

Alex was amused. Cam wasn’t even trying to hide her jealousy. How totally un-Cami-like. The girl who always liked to be in control of her emotions was totally out of control now. Princess Camryn was so used to getting her way exactly when she wanted it, she went ballistic if she didn’t get instant gratification.

Alex immediately felt bad about that thought. Clearly, Cami had something serious to spill. She stood up and handed Dylan the acoustic guitar. “Later, dude, we’ll pick up where we left off.”

Intending to scoot out of the room quickly and deal with Cam, something stopped Alex in her tracks just then. The faintest whiff of it caught in her nostrils, and her stomach turned. Someone had been smoking cigarettes in this room.

*        *        *

Cam closed the door of the bedroom the twins shared and began to rant, “I’ve been trying to tell you — shoplifter woman! Substitute teacher! Same person!”

Alex flounced on her bed. “So you’re buggin’ because we didn’t report her?”

She was exactly that. She paced the room.

While Alex agreed the coincidence was beyond bizarre, she refused to travel down the road her twin was on.

Cam insisted they had to turn her in.

Alex insisted they couldn’t. First of all, nothing was taken —
they
had returned the merchandise. What were they going to report to the cops — an attempted robbery? Like that would stick or even matter.

Cam absentmindedly twirled the chain of her sun necklace around her finger. “I can make her confess!”

“Really?” Alex drawled. “How?”

“I can, you know, stare at her — stun her!”

“Using your laser-beam eyes, you mean? Set her on fire? In front of the class? Or are you planning to do it onstage in the auditorium maybe? Oh, I know — you can do it at the school talent show! That’ll be a winner!”

Alex’s mocking, meant to show Cam she was overreacting, had the opposite effect. Cam grew more frustrated. “What part of this don’t you get? Webb is the
lowest of the low — a skanky thief who uses kids to do her dirty work. Who knows what else she’s capable of?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Alex pointed out. “We have something on her — not vice versa. She should be freaking out. Maybe she’s even quit by now. Webb doesn’t know why we didn’t turn her in. For all she knows, we will.”

“If she was about to run,” Cam reminded her, “she would have bolted out the door when the bell rang. Instead, she bonded with Beth. This slimeball is here to stay. And she’s making my life miserable.”

Alex sighed. “Then we wait.”

“Until?”

“Until she screws up and gives us a reason to turn her in. Meantime, you’ll keep an eye on her — no flamethrowers, just an eye. And I’ll keep an ear …”

“We might not have a meantime,” Cam retorted. “She’s got Beth involved in some scheme.”

“Scheme? You think Beth is gonna be stealing bracelets out of the Jewelry Corner? Paranoia is not your best accessory.”

“I have to tell Beth not to listen to Webb, not to have anything to do with her.” Cam grabbed the portable phone, about to hit speed-dial.

Alex closed her eyes and concentrated hard. She pictured the phone flying out of Cam’s hands. Instantly,
the receiver propelled itself five feet into the air — Alex took a step toward it and caught it.

“Why’d you do that?” Cam demanded.

“Because I would be remiss in my sisterly duties if I didn’t say …
bad plan, Cam!
Your BFF is not going to be cool with your cease-and-desist bulletin.”

“Point taken. Now give me back the phone before
I
do a little magic trick — promise, it’ll be a sizzler!” She eyeballed the pink receiver threateningly.

“Don’t bother. Here.” Alex returned the phone to Cam. “You’ve been warned.”

Nothing Alex said could have prepared Cam for Beth’s reaction.

To Cam’s urgent “Listen, I’ve gotta tell you something important,” Beth quickly responded, “Cami? I’m really glad you called. I’ve got something … Did you read the note I passed you?”

“Note? What note?” Cam blurted. Then she remembered. Beth passed her a note in social studies, asking her to read it later. She’d forgotten all about it.

Beth let out a long sigh. “Okay, you didn’t. But I’ve got to talk to you —”

Cam cut in. “Wait, this is totally urgent.”

Beth pressed on, “No, you wait. So is this. Cam … are you alone? I mean, is Alex in the room? Can she hear us?”

“Yeah, but it’s cool. Als knows why I’m calling.”

Beth lowered her voice. “Listen, Cami. Could you call me back on the cell phone? When you’re alone? There’s something I…”

Exasperated, Cam blurted, “You can’t do that volunteer thing with Webb.”

Beth was taken aback. “What? What are you talking about? Why not?”

“You just have to believe me. Tell Webb you’ve changed your mind.”

“Is this one of your mojo things?” Beth asked suspiciously.

“Yes. I mean, no. It’s … it’s just… you have to …” Cam stammered.

“You know what, Cam? Put the mojo on slow-mo for a moment and give me a reason. A real reason that makes sense to someone who isn’t a twin and doesn’t have hunches. A normal reason for a normal person. Like me.”

Alex, who’d heard everything, snickered.
What are you going tell her? Or did you just think she’d do what you asked, no reason required?”

Cam glared her at twin. Into the phone she said the first thing that popped into her head. “It’s gonna take up too much time. You’ll miss too many soccer practices.”

“That’s what you think is so important? I might miss soccer?”

“You could be booted off the team,” Cam insisted stubbornly.

“Okay — now you listen,” Beth said. “A) No I won’t. And B) So what? What if I decide something else is more important than soccer?”

“I need you there.” Cam knew she was being mulish. And pathetic.

Beth actually snickered. “Oh! So this is about you? Take a memo, Camryn. Everything isn’t about you. Not always.”

Cam stared at the phone, which had gone dead.

Confused and hurt, she sniped at Alex. “If I even hear the
first
words of you thinking ‘I told you so,’ you are toast. Burnt!”

Alex left the room.

Still clutching the phone, Cam sat on the bed, trying to think. She closed her eyes. A picture formed: a wise and weathered old man with nappy white hair and a sad smile. “I’ll be here when you need me,” he’d told her.

And then another, a striking blond woman with metallic-gray eyes, identical to hers and Alex’s, snapping, “Call me Goddess.”

Karsh and Ileana. The tracker and the vain but
valiant witch sworn to guide and protect the twins. To be there in times of danger.

Neither twin had seen or heard from their protectors in several weeks. What did that mean? They only came when Thantos was nearby — not when danger took the form of a spidery shoplifter? Or maybe there was no real danger.

If that were true, why did every bone in her body tell her otherwise?