The Grimm Chronicles, Vol.1 (5 page)

Read The Grimm Chronicles, Vol.1 Online

Authors: Isabella Fontaine,Ken Brosky

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Teen & Young Adult, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fairy Tales, #Action & Adventure, #Paranormal & Urban, #Science Fiction, #Dystopian

BOOK: The Grimm Chronicles, Vol.1
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“What do you think happened?” Briar asked.

I shrugged. “The big bad wolf ate him up and lived happily ever after.”

Briar’s whiskers twitched. His mouth cracked into a little smile. “Nope. The wolf didn’t move. Didn’t cry out. Didn’t bleed. He just slowly burned away. No smoke. No smell. Just a pile of ashes. And the servant, kneeling in front of it, clutching the pen.” He stepped closer, eyes wide. “The very same pen you found this afternoon.”

And with that, the rabbit disappeared.

 

Chapter 4

In a certain mill lived an old miller who had neither wife nor child, and three apprentices served under him. As they had been with him several years, he one day said to them, “I am old, and want to sit in the chimney- corner, go out, and whichsoever of you brings me the best horse home, to him will I give the mill, and in return for it he shall take care of me till my death.”
[iv]

 

 

 

The next day was Friday. Our last day of exams. I had two: History and Fencing. The history exam seemed so easy that I began second-guessing myself halfway through. Our teacher, Mr. Martin, sat at his desk with his old wrinkled face resting squarely on one fist. I caught him glancing outside more than a few times.

No one else seemed to be having such an easy time. It almost felt like a trick. What’s worse, some of the questions seemed to have two right answers:

The U.S. entered World War II because:

A.
     
Germany attacked the United States.

B.
     
The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor.

C.
     
The Nazi Holocaust needed to be stopped.

D.
     
Britain asked for help.

Didn’t Britain ask for help? Didn’t the Holocaust need to be stopped? I chose B only because it seemed like the
correctest
answer.

When I was finished, I put the paper on Mr. Martin’s desk, gave him a smile (which he didn’t return) and walked out into the hall. It smelled like the cafeteria, which was right below us in the basement. If there was more time, I would have stopped down there for a grilled cheese sandwich, but I’d spent way too much time second-guessing myself. The Fencing exam started in twenty minutes.

“Concentrate,” I told myself. “Definitely don’t think about the rabbit’s story.” It was hard
not
to, though. It had been a good story. And I loved a good story.

A few students walked out of the classroom on my left, laughing about something that had happened during their Chemistry exam. I followed them for awhile, aware that this was part of the popular clique. Jennifer and Roman were going steady. The other two girls—Cherry and Latrice—had boyfriends waiting for them in the cafeteria, according to their dialogue. When the girls glanced back and noticed me walking a few paces behind them, they smiled and gave a quiet “Hi.”

I fell back a few paces, not interested in making small talk. This was Edward’s clique, not mine. There was a boundary here, and I wasn’t comfortable crossing it—the only reason they said hi to me was because I was dating Edward. It made me uncomfortable … like, here’s this power. You can totally abuse it, Alice, and join up with them right now and exchange phone numbers and text each other and they’ll do it. They’ll do it simply because you’re dating Edward. I didn’t like that.

The hallway was shaped like a horseshoe and the gym was located on the other end. I stopped at my locker—1164—to put away my backpack so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I gave my neck a squirt of perfume, knowing full well that whomever I fought for my exam wasn’t going to be easy and I didn’t want to stink up the joint. Mr. Whitmann didn’t give me the easy fights anymore.

I closed the locker, thankful that the hallway was empty now. Most of the freshmen and sophomores were already done with their exams, and soon the janitor would be rolling by with his floor buffer. I started walking again, then stopped.

Something was on the tiled floor up ahead.

I stepped closer. It looked like a trail of something, like oil leaking out underneath a car. Only this trail was slightly golden in color, starting at the doors that opened into the staircase and leading down the hall.

I followed it, kicking it with my shoe every once in a while to see if I could disturb it. I couldn’t—my shoe just went right through it. The trail was dim but definitely glowing just a little bit, as if someone had drizzled some glow-in-the-dark paint on the tiles. A practical joke? An end-of-the-year joke? A lot of the senior boys liked to pull some kind of senior prank after exams were done … marking their territory before they graduate, I suppose.

Ahead of me, a boy walked out of classroom 214, walking directly over the trail and then walking the handful of steps to his locker. He couldn’t see it, I realized. Whatever it was, only I could see it.

The trail led right into the gym.

I stopped at the open doorway. Inside, I could hear the basketball players bouncing basketballs, the soft whoosh of shots made. I glanced inside. The glowing trail led to the doorway on the other end of the gym leading to Room B—the fencing and weight training room. I swallowed hard. What did it mean?

“Hey.”

I spun around. Tina flinched, blinking rapidly as if I was going to whap her on the head. She was wearing extra eye shadow today for some reason and it made her face look dark and mysterious.

“You scared me,” I said.

She smiled. “That’s pretty weird, even for you, Alice.”

“Why are you wearing so much makeup?” I asked. “You’re going to sweat it all off during the exam.”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking the exam. I’m taking an F.”

“What?!” I exclaimed. “Why? You’ve been doing better and better! You can at least get a C.”

She shrugged, staring down at the floor. For a moment, I thought she was looking at the glowing trail, but then her eyes shifted toward the boys playing basketball. “I can’t put up a fight against the boys. They’re too big. I’m sick of embarrassing myself. If I wanted to do that, I would have joined home ec so I could burn muffins.”

“Look,” I told her. “Why don’t you just trust me? I’ll be your coach. I’ll tell you exactly how to beat whatever guy you’re paired with.”

She didn’t respond. Tina, Tina, Tina. If there was one thing I learned early on in high school, it was that you couldn’t clam up. You go quiet, and the other students start to drift away. I didn’t need to help her. I didn’t really even
want
to all that badly. What I wanted was for her to realize she could be just as good as the boys.

“Look,” I said. “Just trust me on this. You’ll get at least a C. And if you fight Gregg, you’ll probably get a B. I know you can do this.”

Tina took a deep breath, then gave a little nod. I put a hand on her back and pushed her through the door into the gym. We walked across the basketball court and into Room B, where the red mats had already been laid out in the middle of the room by a sweaty Mr. Whitmann. The other students already had their white gear on and were sitting on the folding chairs beside the mat. Edward was there, spinning his foil on the ground. When he looked up and saw me, he smiled. I smiled back and walked toward him with the full intention of planting a wet one on the lips, then stopped in my tracks.

The glowing trail led directly to him.

“Hey,” Tina said, nudging my elbow. “Are you getting cold feet? Because if you are, then I’m getting out of here before Mr. Whitmann calls on me.”

“No,” I said, rubbing my eyes. The trail was still there when I opened them again. It led right to Edward’s feet. Up Edward’s feet! All the way to his face. His skin seemed to have just a hint of a golden glow, barely recognizable, but as I stepped cautiously forward I began to feel it radiating off of him. It felt warm and tingly.

“You two better change quick,” Edward said, standing up and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Hurry,” he whispered. “Mr. Whitmann isn’t in a good mood.”

I grabbed Tina’s hand and we took the two red uniform bags with our names on them into the girls’ locker room next to the basketball court. As we began the annoying process of fitting our chests into the plastic chest protectors—pink, by the way … as if the boys had blue plastic bras—Tina asked me about Edward.

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

Tina dropped her jeans and slid into the white breeches. “Like, how far have you gone? He doesn’t tell anyone about you two. I know. I sit next to the cool kids’ table sometimes and totally eavesdrop.”

“He sits with them that often?” I asked. I swear I hadn’t known. I only had one lunch period with him per week and he always sat with us in-betweeners toward the back of the cafeteria. I mean, I knew he knew them, but I thought he sat with the track kids most of the time. They stuck together.

“Sometimes,” Tina said. She put on the plastron, which protects the more vulnerable sword arm side of the body. “Sometimes he just sits alone, too. He’s kinda weird.”

“So am I,” I said, strapping on my own plastron. It fit tight.

“I know. You’re a weird couple. And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“We haven’t gone very far,” I said. I didn’t want to elaborate. “It’s just been tough finding time right now.”

“Do you love him?”

I thought about it for a moment. Did I? “I don’t know,” I said.

“How could you not know after, like, a year?”

“It hasn’t been a year. And besides, I like taking it nice and slow.”

“Is he your first boyfriend?”

“No,” I said with a laugh. She didn’t follow suit and I felt my face redden. I tried to backtrack: “Not that having a boyfriend in high school is always a blast, anyway. Heck, it can cause so much drama sometimes that it’s not even worth it. Plus, I only dated a little bit here and there. Nothing serious.”

She sighed, pulling up each of her socks. “You should talk to his cool friends more. You can do that, you know. Because you’re dating him.”

“I don’t want to,” I said. “You go do it if you want to so bad.”

She laughed. “I can’t! I don’t know anyone in their clique. You have to know someone. That’s why they treat you differently. You have access.”

“OK,” I said. “I get it. I’m not utilizing my powers. Let’s just focus, please.”

We helped each other put on our white jackets, then grabbed our sword gloves.

“We’re ready,” I told her. “We can do this.”


You
can,” Tina said meekly.

We walked back into Room B. Mr. Whitmann was standing on the red mat and when he saw us, he gave a little nod. “Right,” he said. “Now that everyone’s finally here, we’re going to start. Everyone fights once. You’ll be graded on form, not who wins.” He smiled. “But I will make a note of who wins. For the record book.”

The boys laughed. I took a seat next to Edward, pretending to not feel the weird energy emanating from his body. He still had just a hint of a golden glow underneath his skin. I was either one step away from the crazy house, or the giant rabbit had been telling the truth.

Gawd, how many times has a sane person said something like
that
?

“Are you OK?” Edward asked, leaning in close so I could feel his hot breath on my ear.

“I’m fine,” I said. Just fine. You’re definitely not glowing, Edward.

Tina went second. Mr. Whitmann paired her with Gregg, the best luck she could possibly have. “Remember,” I told her, “he always stabs to the right. It’s his only move. Sidestep left, then stab.”

“Sidestep left,” Tina repeated, putting on her mask. She stood up and walked cautiously onto the red mat. Gregg was already waiting, swinging his foil in the air as if he was planning out a much more Hollywood-esque fight sequence.

“All right,” Mr. Whitmann said, grabbing his referee’s mask and putting it on. He looked funny, with his gut poking out of his red fencing jacket. It had obviously been fitted during his leaner years. “Gregg, no going easy on her because she’s a girl.”

“Yeah Gregg,” said one of the boys with a laugh. “You lose, you’re not coming out with us this weekend.”

Edward leaned over again. “You think she can do it?”

“I have no doubt,” I said. My urge was to lean away from him … why? I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the glow had begun to make my stomach turn. Stop, I told myself. It’s just nerves. It’s just
stress
.

“Care to make it interesting?”

“Fine,” I said, watching Tina place her free hand behind her back and cautiously lift her foil. “Name the stakes.”

“If Tina wins, I’ll take you out to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in Milwaukee.”

“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow. “And what if Gregg wins?”

“You have to spend the night at my house. This weekend.”

I felt a cold current run through my body. Tina and Gregg began exchanging attacks, their foils clanging together. Click-click-click. Click-click-click.

“Point for Gregg,” Mr. Whitmann announced.

Tina stepped back to gather herself. Gregg spun around and carved a Z in the air, to thunderous applause from the other boys. They were going to throw a drinking party after exams were over—I knew it because that’s what they always did. They would invite Edward because he was cool. By extension, they would indirectly invite me.

“En guard!” Mr. Whitmann called out. Tina and Gregg went at it again, only this time when Gregg parried and made a stab, Tina hopped left. It was such an awkward movement that she nearly fell over. But she kept her balance, extending the tip of her foil and stabbing Gregg’s rib.

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