And that would only make her hate me more.
No, I decided reluctantly at last, there was nothing I could do but keep watching for the time being. Watching over my little human from afar and hoping I could keep her safe and that someday she would let me in…
22
Kaitlyn
Emma was up all night with a stomachache.
She woke Megan and me up, groaning around three o’clock in the morning. Megan hopped out of her bed and I dragged myself out of mine, still wrapped in my robe to try and keep warm. Even so, the dungeon chill seemed to penetrate my bones and I shivered as I came over to check on Emma.
“Hey, hon—are you all right?” Megan asked anxiously, leaning over her.
“No.” Emma shook her head. “Not…feeling good at all.”
Megan ran and got a trash can in case our Coven-mate had to puke, But Emma didn’t appear to have nausea or any intestinal difficulties for that matter. She had simply eaten too much, as far as Megan or I could tell, and the heavy, greasy food wasn’t sitting well in her stomach.
“Why did I eat so much of that stuff?” she moaned, putting a hand to her swollen belly. “Ugh—I never want to eat again!”
“I’ll bet it was that magical MSG spell again,” Megan said angrily. “I’d bet anything that Nancy and the Weird Sisters cast that spell over the cafeteria food last night and tripled the strength—just like they did with the three squared cheer up charm on our chocolate cake,” she told me. “They did it just so the Norms who got the food would overeat and be miserable!”
“Should we tell the Headmistress?” I asked.
“No, don’t,” Emma begged before Megan could answer. “How could you ever prove it? Avery told us that spell was undetectable once it was baked into the food. All we could prove was that I made a pig of myself the one night the Cafeteria ladies served us something half-decent to eat.” She groaned again. “Besides, I don’t want to mess with Headmistress Nightworthy—she’s scary.”
I had to agree with her there. The Headmistress was a formidable woman—I wouldn’t want to bother her with anything unless I had rock-solid proof. And unfortunately, we didn’t.
“I guess we’ll let it go for now,” Megan said unhappily. “But just because we’re not going to report it doesn’t mean we’re not going to do anything about it! Nancy and her goons have got to be stopped!”
“Good luck with that,” Emma groaned. “Ugh—I think I’ll go sit in the bathroom. Maybe I’ll feel better in a little while.”
But it was a full two hours before she felt good enough to go back to bed. Which meant that all the next day—Friday—Megan and I were sleep-deprived and tired.
Too tired to understand what was going on until it was nearly too late.
23
Kaitlyn
It was last period on Friday—Home Ec—and I was feeling desperately tired. I had just about decided that I would ask the Breedloves if they would make a doctor’s appointment for me that weekend because I could barely hold my head up. I was nodding over my sewing machine, too weak to even notice what was going on around me, which is probably why Nancy caught me completely by surprise.
I was vaguely aware of her in my peripheral vision—just a shape with short black hair and big red lips—when she tripped and spilled something on me. She made an exaggerated movement and I heard her say, “Whoops!” so loudly the whole class looked up. Then something that looked like paprika was suddenly all over my hands and my white blouse. And, I thought, probably in my hair as well.
“Hey—what are you doing?” Megan demanded, before I could say a word. She’d been in the back of the class, looking for more turquoise thread for our sewing machine when Nancy had happened by, but she got over to me quickly and began brushing me off.
Only the red paprika-looking spice didn’t seem to want to brush off, I thought, frowning. At least, not off my skin. The tiny red granules seemed to sink into my scarred epidermis even as I tried to brush them away. They left tiny tingling feelings, like sparks that lasted only a quarter of an instant—so short I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t imagined it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Megan demanded again, glaring at Nancy.
“Why, I simply tripped and spilled my spice blend—that’s all,” Nancy exclaimed, still speaking loudly enough to draw everyone’s attention.
“Here now, girls—what’s going on?” Mrs. Hornsby hurried up, a frown creasing her face.
“Oh, Mrs. Hornsby!” Nancy exclaimed, looking at the Home Ec teacher with wide, innocent eyes. “I was putting away this spice blend that somehow got left at my table from the baking unit and I slipped and accidentally spilled some on poor Kaitlyn here.” She nodded at me as though we were the best of friends and it was a simply an accident.