Witch - By Fiona Horne Page 0,59

my best not to brush against him as I moved through the narrow doorway.

I faced the principal uncertainly.

She shuffled some papers in front of her before looking up at Mr Barrow. ‘Yes?’

‘Vania Thorn, while being a capable student academically, is proving herself to be a disruptive influence among the other students,’ Mr Barrow said loudly.

I was too shocked to defend myself, so I just stood there looking back and forth between Mr Barrow and the principal.

Mr Barrow opened a folder he was carrying. ‘Cheating on tests, causing a commotion in the school cafeteria and encouraging other students to skip classes,’ he said as he turned a couple of pages before removing one and handing it to the principal. ‘I recommend this letter be sent to her parents.’

The principal looked the letter over. After a long silence she said, ‘I want to speak with Miss Thorn. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr Barrow. You can leave her with me.’

Mr Barrow went to say something, but the principal held up her hand to silence him.

He snapped his folder shut and gave me one more withering look before leaving the office.

‘Have a seat,’ the principal said without looking up from the letter.

I did so and waited with my hands in my lap.

‘I don’t like Abraham Barrow,’ she said after a long pause.

My hand went to my mouth in shock at how open she was being.

‘But unfortunately I have to adhere to a strict hiring policy, and he was next in line.’

I didn’t say anything. What could I say?

‘Don’t you want to speak in your defence?’ Mrs Stinson asked.

I cleared my throat. ‘Yes, ma’am. I did not cheat, but I did suggest to the students I share a Friday elective class with that we work on that project this morning, off the school premises.’

‘Which project did you choose?’

‘We’re attempting to solve the mystery of the woman of Queen’s Cross.’

‘Oh, yes, a famous case in Summerland. Well, how is it coming along?’

‘We think we’re really close to a breakthrough that might even force the case to be reopened.’

‘How very thrilling. I do enjoy seeing students passionate about their work. As you are a relatively new student to this school, Miss Thorn, I have made it my duty to stay informed of your progress, and all your teachers speak very highly of you – except Mr Barrow, of course. Sometimes personality clashes are unavoidable, so to avoid further issues I am going to remove you from his class and place you with Miss Clarke instead.’

‘But Mrs Stinson, Miss Clarke’s class is the year above mine,’ I said.

‘I know. It is a little unorthodox, but you appear to be uncannily gifted in this area of study. I hope this news pleases you.’

Pleased me? I was over the moon. My toes curled up in my shoes, and I had to resist the urge to fling myself at Mrs Stinson and hug her. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Stinson. I won’t let you down. I’ll study really hard.’

‘Make sure you do, Miss Thorn.’ But her serious words were accompanied by a smile, and she energetically scrunched Mr Barrow’s letter into a ball and threw it in the bin.

‘You may return to your classes,’ she said and went back to turning over the papers on her desk.

I virtually skipped out of her office.

My coven and I met in the quad for lunch. They couldn’t believe what had happened in the principal’s office either, especially Mrs Stinson’s openness about not liking Mr Barrow.

‘Maybe he’s going to be fired?’ Alyssa said.

‘I can’t tell psychically yet,’ Amelia said. ‘But it’s pretty obvious he’s not making any friends among the staff. Here’s hoping his days at Summerland High are numbered.’

‘It would be awesome if he left,’ Dean said. ‘I doubt anyone would miss him. I’ve heard other students complain about him, too.’

‘Vania has copped it the worst, though,’ Bryce said. ‘But it should get better now that you’re not in his class.’ He squeezed my shoulder and I swooned a little. I loved it when he touched me.

I stood there revelling in the knowledge that there would be no more chemistry with Mr Barrow . . . And then I felt the blood leave my head and pool in my feet. The witches’ second warning started blaring in my head like a demented nursery rhyme.

‘Guys . . . this is probably ridiculous, but in the witches’ second rhyme, could “One, two, three, rhymes with tree” mean “chemistry”?’

‘Chemistry rhymes with tree .