The Tiny Curse (Werewolf High Book 2) Read online

  I turned to walk away but he caught me by the wrist and pulled me close.

  “You may not have cast that spell,” he said, his voice a quiet growl in my ear, “but that doesn’t mean you have nothing to do with what is happening here. It’s not a coincidence that this started when you came into our lives.”

  He dropped my arm and moved away from me, vanishing before I could even react. When I looked around, a small crowd had gathered, watching the exchange. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how it had looked to them, from their whispers and gestures. A few people had their phones out taking photos and Olivia Hearst and Charlotte Du Pont were watching with looks of horror on their faces. Olivia drew a finger across her throat as if to say I was dead meat. As if Tennyson Wilde was such a sweet prize. Losers.

  I had better things to do than to worry about them, anyway. My family called me every week at exactly 7pm and I didn’t want to be late. I’d talk to them every day if I could, it was nice to have the reminder that there were actually normal, real people in the world who weren’t super rich or supernatural. Hannah wasn’t in my room when I got back, she'd gone to study in the library with Fatima and Milo after dinner, which was good because it always felt a little weird having someone listen in when you were talking to your family, I thought. Like they were seeing you naked or something.

  “Hey hey hey,” said the oldest of my brothers, Liam, when I started up my computer and the call came through. He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made him seem extra goofy.

  “Hey hey what?” I asked. “Why are you being weird?”

  My other two brothers, Fletcher and Hamish made kissy faces in the background, then the message window pinged with a link.

  “It’s all over the internet,” Liam said, as I clicked on the link. “How come you didn’t tell us you’d landed yourself a hot, rich boyfriend?”

  The page loaded to show a series of photos of Tennyson Wilde talking to me earlier, only from the angle of the photos it looked less like a vaguely threatening conversation and more like a loving embrace.

  “No,” I said. “No no no no no no, this is not okay.” I scrolled through the page, looking frantically for some sort of “click here to report this post as a dirty awful bunch of lies” link. It had only been like five minutes ago, how had it spread so quickly?

  “We googled him and the internet said he was the richest 9th grader on the planet,” said Fletcher. “Do you think he’d buy me a bike? I don’t mind if he dates you if he buys me a bike.”

  My eight-year-old brother would pimp me out for a bicycle? Kids these days, seriously. At least ask for a PS4.

  “I am not – nor will I ever be – dating Tennyson Wilde. If you want a bike you’re going to have to save up and buy one like a normal person.”

  Fletcher pouted at me and I felt a momentary twang of guilt. Not that I wasn’t dating Tennyson Wilde because ew ew a world of ew, but there was that one time he had offered me a briefcase of money but I hadn’t been able to fulfil my side of the bargain. I wondered if that offer was still on the table. It was my dream to one day have a briefcase full of money and maybe if I found out who was controlling that orb of magic, I could negotiate with Tennyson Wilde about it.

  “Enough about that jerk,” I said, smoothly changing the conversation, “tell me about the science fair.”

  The three of them starting talking at once, yelling over the top of each other to explain how Fletcher had been robbed of first prize due to unfair adjudication, and I hid my smile as I sat back and listened, pleased to have distracted them.

  Still, it was worrisome, for other reasons than the obvious. I still hadn’t told them that Sam was alive, and now that his popularity was skyrocketing as the newest Golden boy, his face was getting more and more well known. If my brothers were poking around on gossip sites or whatever, it wouldn’t be long before they saw something they couldn’t explain. I should tell them before that happened, but I couldn’t explain it either. Nobody really knew what had happened to Sam, only that he’d suddenly developed werewolf powers and he couldn’t control them. That wasn’t something you could explain over Skype, so I said nothing.

  It was late by the time my brothers finished telling me about the woeful betrayal of justice at Greenville Elementary science fair. Hannah had returned from dinner and started getting ready for bed, and I hadn’t even looked at my homework. Still, I felt so much better after talking to them. Even though they were jerks who would pimp me for a bicycle.

  Once I finally signed off from them, Hannah sat aside her homework and turned to me. She had her hair up in two pigtails on either side of her head that made her look cute like a bunny. The expression on her face was not bunny-like though. Unless it was a bunny who was trapped by a fox and about to get eaten.

  “Those photos are everywhere,” she said.

  I shrugged. “It’s not what it looked like.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” she said, shifting forward on the bed. “Olivia and Charlotte, all the girls like them, they’re not going to just let this go. You need to be careful, Lucy. Promise me, you’ll be careful.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by careful, it wasn’t as if I ever went out of my way to get into troublesome situations, but I promised her. But as I got ready for bed, I started getting madder and madder about it. I hadn’t done anything wrong, why should I have to modify my behavior at all, just because other people were jerks? I mean, I’m not a dummy, I know that’s just how the world works, but still, it is balls.

  And it wasn’t as if Hannah was wrong. I’d thought things had gotten bad after Tennyson Wilde had said I was annoying on his blog, but apparently it was even worse for him not to hate you. Well, any sort of acknowledgement from him was clearly a bad thing. By the time I got to class the next morning, my arms were bruised from people slamming into me in the halls, someone had stabbed me in the leg with a pen, and I was fairly sure there was a chunk missing from the back of my hair.

  I got to history class to find someone sitting in my seat. This big meathead guy, Astor. He was the kind of guy who thought it was witty to be a dumbass. He was on the polo team and all buff and stuff, so a bunch of girls thought he was tops but he had little piggy eyes and a fat neck and I thought he was the worst sort of person in the world. The type of person who thought he could get away with anything just because he had money.

  “You’re in my seat,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows and made a big show of looking around the desk, then turned in his seat and looked over the back of it.

  “I don’t see your name on it,” he said, giving me a smug smile.

  I rolled my eyes. “Could you even read it if it was?”

  He dropped the smile. “Look, girlie, I know you think you’re special because you’re boffing old T-son or whatever but don’t think that gets you any special treatment with me.”

  I snorted and then I choked on my snort. T-son? Was that actually a thing?

  “Just sit somewhere else,” he said, his smirk returning. He had cystic acne scars around his pig eyes.

  I looked around and every single seat in the room was taken. There weren’t usually that many students in the class, I was fairly sure some of the people weren’t even freshmen. I felt like such an idiot standing there, in the middle of the classroom. Nobody actually looked at me but I could feel the weight of their attention on me, mocking me.

  “Take your seat, Miss O’Connor, class is starting,” our history teacher said, glaring at me from behind his desk.

  “There are no seats,” I said, waving my hand around to illustrate my point. Surely he realized that half these people weren’t even in the class.

  “Then I suggest you find one.”

  A few people snickered and Astor outright grinned at me. I stood for a moment, frozen with indecision. I could walk out, but what then? I'd only be hurting myself, getting behind in class and needing to catch up in my own time. I could punch Astor right in the smug, smirking face, but that wo
uld only result in detention, probably. Plus, I doubt I’d even bruise his thick head. He was too solid for me to push off his chair, so when the teacher turned to start the lesson, I swept Astor’s books off his desk and onto the floor. He rolled his eyes and bent down to pick them up, and I grabbed the leg of the chair and tipped it so he overbalanced and went sprawling onto his face. Before he could recover, I slipped into the chair and put my bag on the desk.

  Astor got to his feet and turned to face me. His face was twisted into an ugly expression.

  “You’ll pay for this, bitch.”

  I blinked at him, stunned. I’d expected him to retaliate but still, the full force of his hostility was a shock.

  Without a word, everyone who wasn’t actually in the class stood up and left and Astor took one of their seats. By the time the teacher turned around, there were only half the people left in the room. He didn’t seem surprised, which made me wonder how much of the bullying he was aware of. Wow, you really could not trust anyone in this world.

  The day got no better from there. People shunned me in classes, even the teachers. They stared at me, always watching, and when I noticed them staring, they’d burst into laughter. When I tried to go to the bathroom, the door wouldn’t open and I was only saved from catastrophe by sneaking into the boys’. People tripped me and pulled my hair but when I turned around to see, they were already gone. I wanted to fight against them but how could I if I couldn’t even see them?

  I tried not to let it get to me. I mean, it wasn’t as if I cared what this bunch of jerks thought. Still, it was an awful feeling. By lunchtime, my heart was heavy and my head full of dark thoughts. I picked up a bit when I saw Hannah waiting for me at our usual table. She sat with Milo and Fatima, who both looked up when Hannah waved me over. Milo said something angrily to her, then got up and stormed off. I’d half-expected it. When Tennyson Wilde had first expressed his dislike of me, Milo hadn’t made any secret of not wanting me around. I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed. Milo was funny and interesting, and I thought we’d started to become friends. Apparently, that was done.

  I hesitated before sitting down.

  “Don’t mind Milo,” said Hannah. “He’s just being stupid.”

  “Is he though?” asked Fatima, not looking up from her biology notes. “Milo isn’t the one getting bullied in the hallways, making a scene in class, picking fights with people.” She glanced up at me and started gathering her things. “You’re not exactly trying to make things better for yourself, are you.” She gave a little shrug and stood up. “No offence, Lucy. I don’t have anything against you personally. I just don’t want to be seen with you while you’re making yourself into a target.”

  I felt as if I’d been sucker punched as I watched her go. Fatima had always said exactly what she thought, so it wasn’t as if she was saying those things to be mean. She genuinely thought I brought trouble on myself. It was basically what Tennyson Wilde had said as well.

  “I won’t be offended if you don’t want to be seen with me either,” I said to Hannah. It was a lie, I’d be super offended, but I didn’t want her to feel obligated.

  She was still eating, so I stood up to leave. I could get something to go.

  She shook her head and smiled up at me.

  “Don’t be a dummy,” she said. “I don’t care about any of that. Sit down and eat your lunch.”

  I blinked down at my plate as I pressed the button and my lunch appeared. It wasn’t that I was crying, I was just so grateful to have someone on my side. I’d never had a friend like Hannah before and I didn’t know what I’d do without her.

  Chapter 3

  Having Hannah as my friend was the only thing that kept me sane over the next few days. Although I tried to keep my distance from her, she wouldn’t have a bar of it, sticking by my side in the halls and at meals and in class, no matter what people threw at me. Literally threw.

  I was heading back from lunch, taking my time getting to class as I wandered down the path, watching that pasty kid Llewellyn from history class as he played with his beagle down on the lawn. It was kind of hypnotic, the way the dog would chase the ball, bring back the ball, chase the ball, bring back the ball. It would be so awesome to be a dog. Life would be simple and people would give you treats just for looking cute. Hannah was stressing over the results from our biology quiz because she hadn't done as well as she'd liked, when we were ambushed.

  "Hannah, run!" I told her, as a bunch of people jumped out of the bushes, armed with water balloons.

  They were all wearing hoodies, so their faces were covered but it didn't take a crack detective to figure out who they were. The first one launched their balloon at me and it exploded against my shoulder as I turned away from it. Ew, that was not water in that balloon, it smelled like some sort of swamp muck. Hannah managed to get herself off the path, out of harms way, as the others opened fire. I ran. We were close to the tennis courts, so I headed for the locker rooms there, hoping to barricade myself in. I didn't need to worry, as soon as they ran out of projectiles, they lost interest and didn't bother to follow me.

  They didn't need to. I was totally covered in mucky muck. Hannah wrinkled her nose at the smell and bolted the locker room doors as I changed into my stinky gym clothes that I’d luckily had in my bag. Man, that sludge was not going to wash out of my uniform. I ran some hot water in the sink and pumped a bunch of soap in to make it nice and sudsy. If I let that stuff set, I'd have no chance.

  “Nobody would blame you if you took a few days off,” Hannah said, sitting on the bench behind me while I scrubbed at my ruined blazer. “It might be better if people didn’t see you for a while, it might blow over.”

  “And in the mean time, I get behind in classes and they have a few days to cook up even worse torture methods.” I shook my head. “No. I don’t care how bad it gets, I am not giving in.”

  In the mirror, I could see Hannah smile. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “How do you get out of bed every day, knowing this is what’s ahead of you? I think you’re really brave.”

  I shrugged and stared down at the soap suds in the sink. It wasn’t a matter of being brave. What choice did I have? Even if I’d maybe secretly been looking up the price for flights home late at night when all I wanted was to see my family and sleep in my own bed and have a normal life, I had to get to the airport from the school and the island where we were was at an undisclosed location. I was basically stuck there until the end of term. I could hide in my room, but what good would that do? I’d have to come out sometime and it would be even worse when I did. They’d know they’d beaten me and that they could do whatever they liked and I had no defense. It was awful and no fun, but it was the only thing I could do.

  My blazer was ruined though. I’d send it out to a cleaning service but they’d have to be some sort of magical miracle cleaning service to get that smell out. The rest was probably salvageable but it needed a proper wash. I’d have to take at least the rest of the day off, school rules were very clear about what could and could not be worn to class, and stinky gym clothes were a no go.

  “You should go to class,” I told Hannah. “Don’t be late on my account. I’ll fix this up and head back. See you tonight?”

  She looked concerned but after some prodding left as the late bell rang. It was kind of nice to be alone for a while. Even though Hannah meant well and had been so great, I could drop my brave face and just wallow in my own misery. Just for five minutes.

  I sat down on the bench, my crumpled, sodden blazer in my hands. The sludgy stuff was in my hair as well; I could feel it sticking to my neck. The smell seemed to have sunk into my skin.

  It was fine, I told myself. I only had English after lunch and I was well ahead in that anyway. I’d spend the afternoon getting ahead in my other subjects and then I’d take first in everything and win all the academic prizes at the end of the year and they could all suck it. The whole reason I’d accepted the spot at Amaris was so that I could ge
t a jumpstart in life. If I did well, I’d get into a good college. Most of these losers would just go straight onto Amaris University without thinking about it, but that didn’t mean I had to. I could get a scholarship and go to a proper school, somewhere closer to home. That was the point of all of this.

  Still, four years was a whole lifetime. It was like 1400 days. Maybe a bit less, I was almost halfway through freshman year. I’d made it that far. But it was a long time. Four years ago, I’d been living a completely different life. I wasn’t even the same person that I’d been then.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, trying to make everything seem less horrible, trying to cheer myself up. It was longer than five minutes.

  “Of course, you’re hiding,” a voice said out of the shadows.

  I jumped up and span around, sludge from my hair splattering all across my face.

  Tennyson Wilde. Of course.

  “What are you even talking about?” I asked, taking my blazer back over to the sink and wringing the water out so that it was dry enough to stuff back into my bag. “And why are you in the girls’ locker room? You know there are rules about that sort of thing. Probably laws, even?”

  “Don’t speak as if you are governed by rules or laws. I know that you do as you please.”

  I twisted the thick fabric so hard in my hands that it chafed my skin. “Either say what you came here to say or leave,” I told him. “I’m not in the mood for your waffle.”

  Waffles on the other hand, I was definitely in the mood for. I wonder if I could sneak into the dining hall while everyone else was in class. That seemed like the kind of thing that was frowned upon, but still. Waffles.

  “The orb.”

  I looked up at his reflection in the mirror and shivered. His eyes glowed out of the shadows with an otherworldly shine, intense and terrifying. He was definitely not playing.

  “What about it?” I asked. “I know you think I have superpowers but I can’t actually read minds.”