Witch - By Fiona Horne Page 0,12

minutes of unbearable silence before he finally looked up and spoke.

‘I find it hard to believe that someone who does not apply themself in class could achieve such high results; this leads me to believe that you are cheating,’ he said.

I was too dumbstruck to respond. Since when did teachers tell you off for being good at something?

‘Silence is insolent and disrespectful,’ Mr Barrow said when I didn’t reply. ‘Be in my laboratory at 3.30 p.m. for after-school detention today. Do not be late.’

‘B-but Mr Barrow,’ I stammered. My mouth had gone so dry I could hardly speak.

‘Three-thirty!’ he snapped.

An hour later I forced myself to walk to English, but my thoughts were all over the place. Why did Mr Barrow have it in for me? Could this have anything to do with the omen in the tea-leaves? Though if anybody wished me ill, surely it was Cassidy. I just wanted to be anywhere but here right now.

The first person I saw when I walked into class was Bryce. He was sitting with Cassidy and two other popular kids. I kept my eyes lowered, allowing my hair to fall forward and shield my face as I slid into a seat on the far side of the room.

We were reading Pride and Prejudice. I had already studied it at school in Australia, and it had become one of my few favourite novels. I was momentarily distracted from my woes as I immersed myself in Jane Austen’s complicated and backstabbing Regency world. But then I heard Bryce laugh, and our eyes met across the room.

Positive thinking, positive thinking. I kept saying the magic words over and over to myself, but they felt hollow and meaningless, and as soon as the bell rang I bolted from the class to avoid Bryce and Cassidy.

Cassidy, however, had other ideas. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her make a beeline for my locker. I stuck my head as far as I could into the old metal cabinet, willing myself to disappear – which didn’t work – so instead I pretended to be intent on shuffling some books around at the back of the cramped space. But there was no escaping her. The background chatter of students and scuffing of feet along the corridor seemed to fade as she reached me. ‘Hey, Fish Lips!’

The black hatred I’d felt towards her on the bus that day boiled up in the pit of my stomach again, with such intensity it threatened to engulf me in seconds. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? She had Bryce. I had been made a fool of. Why did she have to keep picking on me?

I considered appealing to her, asking her to lay off. But then she pushed my locker door, hard. It jammed into my shoulder. I struggled to keep from turning around and punching her.

‘You think you’re so special and different, Mrs Fish,’ she said. ‘Well, you’re not. You’re a freak, and Bryce knows it. We all know it. So if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of our way.’

In that moment I hated her so much I wanted to wish her dead. But then I remembered the tree – and the magic and power of thoughts. As horrible as she was, I knew I had to try to find something good in this. The only positive thing I could imagine happening, however, was her going away, so inside my head, with every fibre of my being, I said, Please, please, just go away.

I looked Cassidy straight in the eye. She looked back at me uncertainly. Her eyes flickered, and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Suddenly she swung around as if someone had pushed her and walked rapidly away.

The blackness started to seep out of me, and my hands relaxed as I watched her retreat. I smiled. Positive thinking – maybe it wasn’t crap after all.

Later that afternoon, Amelia and Alyssa waved goodbye and I headed for Mr Barrow’s detention. I still couldn’t believe he was punishing me for doing well in my test.

The door to the chemistry lab was shut. I knocked hesitantly before opening it. Mr Barrow was sitting behind his desk; he didn’t look up. ‘Come here, Vania Thorn,’ he said.

I decided not to let him intimidate me, so I strolled casually to his desk. Annoyingly, he still didn’t look up.

‘Let’s see if you can do this,’ he muttered under his breath. He