Witch (3 page)

A boy's voice interrupted my thoughts: ‘Vania.' I turned to see Bryce standing there, and for the second time that day I wondered what he wanted with me.

Because I'd been chatting with the twins I'd missed my bus, and Bryce offered to walk me home. It wasn't too far out of his way, he said, but I was still pretty surprised that he would bother – even if he was class president. I wondered what Cassidy would say if she knew – not that there was anything to it, of course.

‘You know you didn't have to walk me home,' I said once we'd set out. ‘I'm totally fine on my own.'

Bryce smiled at me, and with the sun setting behind him he looked kind of angelic. Once again, I started to feel dizzy. What was this guy's power over me? Sure he was good-looking, but there was something more to it than that.

He suddenly reached out and took my arm, making me jump. His hand felt cool and smooth, and I felt hot and bothered. Before I knew it he had steered me around a big puddle on the path. It was really sweet. I decided I needed to know more about this guy.

‘So, have you been at Summerland High since your freshman year?' I asked.

‘Yeah. I was destined to come here. I went to Summerland Elementary across town, and we all got shunted over here to Summerland High after our incarceration there.

Why did you come here from Australia? Rumour has it that it's the greatest place on earth. Awesome beaches, kangaroos . . .'

‘Yeah, that's true, especially the kangaroos – they're all over the place. We have to kick them out of our classrooms at school all the time,' I said.

‘Are you serious?' he said, his eyes wide.

‘I'm kidding!'

He laughed, and it struck me how unlike me it was to be cracking jokes with a hot guy. With anyone, for that matter. I told myself to get a grip.

‘Actually, my parents are originally from here. Dad's a policeman, but he took a job as head of an international crime task force in Australia just after I was born. They made him an offer he couldn't refuse, I guess.'

‘So why the move back to Summerland now?'

‘My dad's here to replace Captain Sharpe.'

‘Whoa, the police chief?'

‘Yeah. Did you know him?'

‘Well, this is a small town. His death was really sudden and unexpected – he got some weird kind of food poisoning.'

‘That's what my father said. He's not very emotional, but he took this pretty hard. Apparently they were friends back in the day.'

‘Do you miss your friends?'

‘I didn't really have that many back there, to be honest.'
Good one
, I thought.
Now he's going to think you're a super-
freak
. ‘I was sad to leave, though. Australia's beautiful. But . . . so is Summerland,' I added, trying to sound more like a normal human being.

And actually, I had to admit, Summerland was beautiful. We'd reached the top of the Ortega Hill and the view stretching along the Californian coast as far as the eye could see was breathtaking. Even with its cold green ocean and heavy sea-fog that rolled in and clung to the cliffs like clockwork at three p.m., turning a sunny afternoon into a misty winter day, there was something almost magical about the small town, perched on the steep coastline, with its tall, quirky Victorian-era homes set on narrow streets that wound up the steep hills like a maze.

I had spent most of my time after school for the past two weeks happily wandering on my own up high in these foggy hills, looking out over the ocean. But right now I was enjoying having company, a lot.

All too soon we reached my house.

‘Well, see you at school tomorrow,' Bryce said with a wave.

I just nodded dumbly at him and ran up the path.

Three

‘Vania Thorn, do you have the solution to this equation?' Mrs Hestalow said, tapping her pointer on the board.

I was in the front row and could see her bright-red lipstick staining her teeth. She was wearing a black-and-white polka-dot dress and pointy-toed black patent-leather pumps. I liked Mrs Hestalow. She looked more like a fifties rockabilly chick than a maths teacher, and she was friendly to me. Unlike Mr Barrow, who just seemed to hate me more by the day. I had bumped into him when I'd rounded a corner in the corridor on the way to maths. I'd apologised, but he'd just stood there silently, staring at me with his cold beady eyes. Thinking about it sent a chill through my body, making the hairs on my arms stand up as I replied to Mrs Hestalow.

‘49
x
= 147.
x
= 3.'

‘Very good.' Mrs Hestalow smiled and turned back to the board. I returned to gazing out the window and thinking about something much more pleasant than my weird chemistry teacher . . . Bryce.

The bell rang and I jumped. This was the last class of the day, and I was walking home with Bryce again! He had come up to me at lunch when I was in line at the canteen and quietly suggested it.

Cassidy and one of her bitchy friends had been watching and had rolled their eyes when they saw us standing together – but thankfully hadn't thrown an orange at me again. I was so surprised I'd just agreed by nodding at him dumbly. Bryce was Cassidy's boyfriend, and yet he wanted to walk me home?

I had butterflies in my stomach as I dumped my books in my locker. As I was closing my locker door I saw Amelia and Alyssa walking away down the hall. They had their backs to me, but as if they sensed my presence they both stopped suddenly and turned around to wave to me. Amelia winked and then they ran off. I wondered if they psychically knew I was meeting Bryce.

Bryce and I had agreed to meet at the drinking fountain near the entrance to the school. I sat on the stone block next to the fountain as a stream of students flowed out of the building and down the stairs. It was a warm afternoon but I left my jacket on so that Bryce wouldn't see how small my breasts were. Yes, seriously. I knew he was with Cassidy, but I still wanted to look the best I could and it seemed like all the cool girls in America looked like Barbie dolls. I would never be that. My parents wouldn't buy me a boob job, for a start – not that I was too keen to go under the knife anyway. But I was also not too keen on advertising how flat-chested I was. And so I sat there sweating a bit.

I waited there until the schoolyard was deserted. This wasn't good. I chewed my nails nervously. Was Bryce standing me up? Maybe all this was just a plot to make me look ridiculous. He and Cassidy and that whole group were probably hiding behind a building, watching me and laughing.

I stood up and brushed off my jeans. The butterflies in my stomach had been replaced by a lump of stone. But if I was being watched, I would not let anyone know I was upset. I picked up my bag and walked defiantly out of the front gates.

I reached the street corner and was about to step off the kerb when I heard someone calling me.

‘Vania, wait up!' Bryce was running out of the school gates towards me. My heart leapt.

‘I'm so sorry,' he said breathlessly as he reached me. ‘The principal grabbed me after the bell rang to talk about class president stuff. She said it would only take a minute, but I was stuck in there for half an hour and I had no way of letting you know.'

I was trying to control the smile that was threatening to split open my face. ‘That's okay,' I said, managing to sound reasonably nonchalant. ‘I know I need to get a mobile.' I didn't tell him I'd thought he was plotting to make a fool out of me. We started walking.

‘What's a mobile?' Bryce asked.

‘Oh, a . . .' I floundered momentarily for the American version, ‘a cell phone.'

He laughed. ‘You say funny things sometimes.' He made a point of turning his phone off and putting it in his pocket, which made me feel kind of special. ‘How come you don't have a . . . mobile?'

‘My parents are totally strict and old-fashioned, and they try to push that on me, too – we don't even have the internet at home!'

‘So how do you study?'

‘Books – the old-fashioned way.' I laughed wryly.

‘I actually love books,' Bryce said. ‘I'm reading a great one right now.'

‘I mostly prefer science and maths to literature,' I said.

He shook his head, and for a second I was terrified he was thinking I was a total nerd.

‘I'm useless at math,' he said. ‘I don't see the point of algebra – I'd rather be reading a novel.'

Now it was my turn to shake my head. Science and numbers are definitely more my thing.

The silence grew between us. I looked up at him from beneath my fringe. Maybe he was thinking I found
him
nerdy.

‘Umm, what's the book you're reading?' I asked, smiling in what I hoped was an encouraging way. His face lit up.

‘Well, it's called
The Story of the Inexperienced Ghost.
It's a classic by the science-fiction writer HG Wells, and it's actually pretty funny – it's about a ghost who doesn't know how to haunt things properly.'

‘Do you believe in ghosts?' I asked. For some reason my heart had started to hammer.

He looked a little embarrassed and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Uh, I don't want to sound weird or anything, but, yeah, I guess I do.'

Something was happening. It felt like déjà vu. My vision went blurry and I stumbled.

Bryce caught me. ‘Hey, you gotta stop doing that,' he said, sounding concerned.

I looked into his green eyes. His arms were around me, and it honestly felt like time was standing still. I had to get a grip.

‘I'm fine.' I pulled away from him and took a step, so that I was out of his reach. Then I turned away and started walking ahead. ‘I believe in ghosts, too,' I called over my shoulder.

He laughed as he caught up with me. ‘Oh, good. I was worried you were thinking I was crazy.'

‘No, I'm totally interested in paranormal stuff. I like scientific things, but I like things that can't be proven, too. I've never seen a ghost, but on a scientific level they make sense. Einstein said that energy can never be destroyed. So it has to go somewhere and do something when we die.'

He nodded, and we stood there for a moment before we started walking again. I could see my house through the trees at the end of the road. He put his hand on my arm to stop me again.

‘You know how I started to tell you in class the other day that my great-grandmother was a Spiritualist? Well . . . I am, too,' he said quietly.

‘But what does that mean?' I asked.

‘It means my family believes the living can communicate with the spirits of the dead, and the dead can give us guidance and help if we ask for it.'

He looked at me warily. If I'm honest, what he was telling me was spinning me out a little. The idea of talking to ghosts was pretty far out of my comfort zone, even though I theoretically believed in them. But I didn't want to scare him off, so I kept my expression placid.

Reassured, he continued, ‘It's actually a religion, I guess. We don't really practise it formally now, but like I said the other day, my great-grandmother was one of the original settlers here in the early eighteen hundreds, and she was a medium – one of the people the dead would communicate through. In those days it was a really big deal. Instead of a town hall there was a community séance room. Hundreds of people would come to see my great-grandmother channel the dead. The spirits would tell them things about the afterlife and answer their questions.'

I couldn't keep my face blank any longer. I scrunched up my forehead as I contemplated what he was telling me.

‘What, are you saying everyone in town would come to talk to ghosts with your great-grandmother?' I asked incredulously.

‘Uh, yeah.' He smiled and looked down, looking a little embarrassed and a lot cute. ‘The town séance room is gone now, though. It was knocked down when they ploughed Highway 101 through the centre of town. But once it was like a church to people – everyone went there. My whole family did for years.'

I couldn't say anything as I tried to picture a whole town wanting to talk to dead people.

‘My great-grandmother died a few years ago – she was a hundred and eight,' Bryce said, filling in the silence between us.

‘I'm sorry, Bryce,' I said. I empathised with his loss, but I couldn't resist adding, ‘That's a really impressive age, though!'

‘Yeah, she was amazing. Her name was Elizabeth, but I called her Bessie. We were really close. I was the last to see her before she passed. I'll never forget the way she looked at me when she said . . .' His voice faltered.

‘Go on,' I said gently.

‘She said, “I will see you soon.”'

I was silent for a moment, contemplating the meaning of these words.

‘And I did see her soon after that,' he said after a minute.

‘What happened?'

‘She came to me in a dream. Well, I don't know if I was actually dreaming – it felt like I was awake and sitting up. She was standing at the foot of my bed. She looked a lot younger than when she'd passed. She said, “Bryce, I've been having trouble learning the ropes – coming back this way instead of going over – but I'm starting to get the hang of things now.” And then she disappeared.'

I was beginning to understand why I felt such a strong connection to this boy. He was different and interesting; I could talk to him seriously about this stuff. This wasn't make-believe, like dressing up on Halloween and reading fairytales. I felt drawn to him, and maybe he felt drawn to me for the same reasons.

Oh, who was I kidding? He was super hot, and I was . . . Fish Lips.

He was looking at me questioningly. ‘Do you think I'm weird?'

‘No, Bryce,' I said, ‘I think you're really cool.' And I meant it.