Witch (5 page)

My mother thrust her head around my door. ‘Vania, I saw an interesting recipe on the Food Channel today – a Chinese soup. You know your father loves Chinese food . . . and, umm, it's vegetarian, with broccoli and tofu. What do you think?'

I nodded and tried to smile; then in a desperate attempt to distract myself from how much my life sucked, I took the plunge and said, ‘Maybe I can help you make it?'

My mother beamed. ‘Oh, that would be just lovely!'

I peeled and chopped the broccoli, and my mother diced coriander and shallots, and together we added pinches of chilli and dashes of soy sauce until, each sipping samples from the same spoon, we agreed that the soup had just the right spicy ‘kick'.

This was the first time my mother and I had ever done anything like this together. It was actually fun, and it distracted me from my problems. The fact that she was embracing my vegetarianism cheered me up.

Even more surprisingly, my father loved the soup. Mum and I watched as he gulped it down enthusiastically.

‘This is delicious. The chicken is so tender,' he exclaimed as he scooped up a piece of tofu with his spoon.

‘No, honey,' said my mother. ‘That's not chicken, that's tofu.'

Seeing his confused expression, she added a little hesitantly, ‘It's
vegetarian
chicken.'

My father continued to frown as he considered this for a moment. ‘Well, if you two are the chefs then I think I can handle this vegetarian stuff,' he said eventually in a gruff but approving tone.

I was so happy I thought I would cry. It felt like a magical spell
had
been cast. Who would have thought we would all be sitting there so happily, enjoying dinner together . . . a vegetarian dinner!

But the only spell I had cast was thinking positively and deciding to focus on what did work in my relationship with my parents instead of what didn't. As I went to bed that night I promised myself I would keep practising the magic of positive thinking, not just with my parents, but with everyone – even Bryce and Cassidy.

The next morning, unfortunately, I woke feeling less confident in my ability to see the best in every situation. I headed into school determined to avoid Bryce and spare myself more heartache – but I resolved I would keep smiling no matter what.

My first challenge presented itself when Mr Barrow cornered me in the corridor as I was attempting to get to maths.

‘Vania Thorn,' he said, glaring at me. What
was
his problem?

‘Yes, Mr Barrow?' I said as politely as I could.

‘I need to speak with you about your test results. Meet me in my office at lunchtime.' He turned on his heel and strode away.

I stared after him in surprise. I'd scored ninety-six per cent on my test. What was wrong with that?

Morning classes were over all too quickly, and at twelve noon I was reluctantly knocking on Mr Barrow's office door.

‘Enter!'

I felt like I was on trial in the Spanish Inquisition as I stood in front of his desk through 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 held up something in his left hand. It was a copper penny. ‘Turn this into gold,' he said. He placed the penny on the desk in front of me.

I almost laughed. Surely he was joking?

‘You can stop smirking. You are not leaving this room until you do,' he said.

‘Mr Barrow, that's impossible!' I almost whimpered.

‘Alchemists of old claimed otherwise,' he sneered. ‘You tell me, you're so very clever – surely you can work it out? You being so . . . talented.' His mean eyes glinted.

‘Mr Barrow, I have no idea how to do that,' I said.

‘Then it's going to be a long afternoon.'

The man was insane, I decided. Why was he always picking on me? Well, it didn't look like I had much choice. I set my jaw, picked up the penny and walked over to the beakers, hotplates and burners. I didn't know where to begin. Or maybe I did? Suddenly a sense of calm came over me, as I remembered that under heat zinc reacted with copper and could turn the copper silver . . . that was halfway to gold. I decided to start there.

I heated water in a beaker, added zinc sulfate and waited until the water was hot and oily-looking. I retrieved some zinc filings from a box on the shelf and placed them in the mixture. Using forceps, I picked up the penny and carefully dropped it into the beaker. As it touched the zinc it started to change colour. Ten minutes later I removed a silver penny from the beaker. I looked over my shoulder at Mr Barrow, but he seemed engrossed in some papers he was marking at his desk.

I knew he wouldn't accept half a result. But I really had no clue what to do with this penny to make it gold. I had once read an alchemy book that said it was possible to turn base metals into actual precious metals. But that was way beyond anything I could achieve myself.

If only magic were real . . . Maybe it could be if I decided to believe it was?

‘Magic is the art of creating change with will.' I mumbled the words softly and focused on the silver penny gripped in the forceps. I don't know how long I stood there gazing at it,
willing
it to turn to gold.

‘Vania Thorn!' Mr Barrow said loudly, making me jump and drop the penny onto the hotplate.

‘Yes, Mr Barrow?' I tried to slow my pounding heart.

‘Are you prepared to admit that you cheated on your exam?' he said.

‘No, sir!' I said. ‘Because I didn't.'

He shook his head and went back to his papers. I turned to retrieve the penny, which had fallen on the hotplate. To my astonishment, it was a dark golden colour!

Had I willed it to be? Had the magic started to work before I'd dropped it? I grabbed the forceps and carefully picked up the penny. It was too hot to touch, so I placed it in a beaker filled with cold water.

And in front of my eyes it transformed into perfect, lustrous gold. I felt dizzy but managed to conceal my shock and delight as I took the penny out of the water and turned off the hotplate, putting away the beakers and zinc. I steeled myself and walked over to Mr Barrow.

‘Sir,' I said, placing the penny on the desk in front of him.

He picked up the shiny gold disc without saying anything. The silence in the lab felt thick and claustrophobic. Just when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore he finally spoke.

‘Well done, Vania Thorn. I'm not sure how you pulled this off – are you?' Far from praising, his tone was sinister.

‘No, I'm not sure, sir,' I answered truthfully. The words caught in my throat.

‘Well, I expect you are going to find out.' He turned the gold penny slowly in his fingers.

I stood there, not sure what to do.

‘You may go,' he said, without looking up. I got out of there as fast as I could.

Five

‘So how
did
you turn the coin to gold?' Amelia and Alyssa asked.

The twins, Dean and I were sitting at the back of the history classroom. The teacher was running late, so I was telling them about my bizarre run-in with Mr Barrow.

‘Well, I already knew the trick to turning it silver. I looked up the rest when I got home,' I said. ‘Turns out I accidentally got the science right – placing the silver coin on the hotplate and then in the cold water is actually the correct sequence to turn it golden. So I guess it's not magic after all,' I sighed.

‘But the sequence of events was magical – you couldn't plan that!' exclaimed Dean, and the twins nodded. Dean had become a welcome addition to our group; he fitted right in, and I trusted his opinion.

‘Yeah, maybe it was some kind of magic.' I shrugged. ‘But Barrow really seems to have it in for me. He said something really weird—' At that moment Bryce walked in, followed by the teacher, Mr Vale, and I buried my head in my study book.

I couldn't help sneaking glances at Bryce as the class dragged on. Normally I would have found history interesting, but I couldn't concentrate on what Mr Vale was saying. Bryce was sitting in the back row, three seats away from me. Cassidy and her friends were on the other side of the room. I wondered why he was sitting on his own. I must have looked at him ten times, but I never caught his eye. He was staring off into space. Something seemed wrong.