“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.
“That’s crap and you know it,” Megan exclaimed, glaring at her. “She did it on purpose, Mrs. Hornsby. Nancy and her friends are trying to hurt Kaitlyn.”
Mrs. Hornsby gave me a look that was full of dislike and distaste.
“I don’t see what reason Nancy would have to harm your friend, Miss Latimer,” she said frostily. “She seems perfectly fine to me.”
“But Nancy poured that red stuff all over her!” Megan exclaimed. “What’s in it, anyway?” she demanded, glaring at Megan. “Cayenne pepper? Ghost pepper?”
Nancy lifted her chin.
“Nothing but a little smoked Paprika and salt. My spice blend is delicious but it couldn’t hurt anyone—unless they were a slimy slug that crawled out from under a rock, that is,” she added maliciously, staring at me.
Mrs. Hornsby apparently decided to ignore this comment. She simply looked at me and shrugged.
“Well, brush yourself off, Miss Fellows. And Miss Latimer,” she went on, frowning sternly at Megan. “Don’t be so quick to claim offense against someone. Anyone can have a simple accident, you know. Now don’t bother me again!”
And with a last warning glare, she flounced off to the front of the room to help one of the other students sew some lace onto the edge of her apron.
“Ugh! If only they hadn’t put that feel good spell on her!” Megan muttered under her breath. She looked at me with concern. “Are you all right, Kaitlyn? Does that stuff burn? Did you get any in your eyes?”
I told her that no it didn’t burn and that none had gotten in my eyes. And actually, though Nancy had spilled an entire large jar of the strange spice mix on me, there was very little to brush off. I thought of my earlier idea that the little red granules were sinking into my skin and tried to put it out of my mind. Surely it must have been my imagination, right? Skin couldn’t actually absorb foreign substances like that—right?
Right, I told myself firmly, if a bit uneasily. So just forget about it, Kaitlyn, and go back to work.
Which was exactly what I did. It was almost time to go home for the weekend and I was more than ready to go. While I wasn’t looking forward to the long walk across the narrow bridge, that spanned the lake which surrounded Nocturne Academy, I was looking forward to crawling into the back of the Breedloves’ luxurious Mercedes Benz and just relaxing in the cool, dark, leather-scented interior. I could ask Mrs. Breedlove to make me a doctor’s appointment and then maybe they would just let me rest until
