Wish (7 page)

I pressed my lips tight and rubbed my temples. My brain would
explode trying to figure all this out.

If everything were hunky dory with Mom, Nana would have
brought her home, she’d be here already. Maybe she was nuttier than a box of
Cracker Jacks. Just like Dad.

Man. I seriously needed to replant my family tree.

      A sense of pure terror vacuumed away my breath. Cody
and I were all alone with no one to rely on. Being a witch might help except I
didn’t have any idea how to control my powers. I didn’t even know what my
powers were. And better, I wasn’t supposed to let anyone know about them. I
still couldn’t even remember most of my fast-forwarded day yesterday.

I so needed to find out what else had happened. “Don’t worry
about it, Code. I’m sure it’s all good.”

Uh huh. Just like turning sixteen was all-good. Except. It
wasn’t.

      “So, um, anyway yesterday. Uh, after school - you drove
me home, right?” I asked hoping to trigger another memory flash.

      Cody took the last bite of his bagel. “Same as every
Monday, Sydney. Right after football practice.”

      I nodded and a flood of images and sounds rushed
through my mind. The day’s events zipped by in fast forward. I remembered Stevie
buying me a giant pad from the school dispenser. We’d skipped first class and
hung out in the bathroom to avoid getting busted. It sucked even in fast
motion.

      I cut gym class too, because I could handle the thought
of modeling the disgusting but mandatory school shorts the color of puke green
and yellow. With a big pad between my legs. Swear to God they were designed to
look horrible on everyone except tanned and blonde Jenny Truman.

All day kids all over school chattered about Mike, Jenny and
I. By the end of the day rumors had me either married to Mike and pregnant or
beating up Jenny in the hallway. I kept my head down, dreading running into Mike
or Jenny, but Mike didn’t even show up for school, which was a huge relief.
Jenny stayed clear of me the rest of the day, too. Just as I’d wished.

Wish.

I needed to test my powers, so I might as well wish for
something to make me feel better. In times of stress there’s nothing like
massive carbohydrate overload to send my brain into numb oblivion.

“I wish I had a big cinnamon bun for breakfast,” I said out
loud. “With lots of icing.”

      Cody wiped the corners of his mouth. “Dude. I brought
some home from school yesterday, remember? Fundraising for football. We had to
buy a box to support the team. They’re still in the kitchen. Have one.” He
looked like he wanted to bolt.

      As soon as he said it, I pictured Cody bringing them
home, complaining about empty calories in cinnamon buns.

“You want me to take you to the doctor or something?” Cody
asked, watching me stare into space with wonder.

I chomped a finger nail like it was a sticky bun.

“You look pretty stressed. And you’re chewing your nails
off.”

I pulled the finger out of my mouth.

“A doctor can’t help me.” General practitioners couldn’t
handle this. Even I knew that.

“Maybe a different kind…”

“I’m not crazy.” I chewed my lip. Or was I? Was I losing my
mind like the rest of my family seemed to be doing?

“I wish I had a million dollars.”

There. I waited.

      “Money wishes are out of the question. Rule number 497.
At no time will a witch be permitted to wish for money, unless it is an
emergency situation, and the wish is only for the amount to get out of a
pickle. Material wishes must be cleared by the Institute,” Cody recited in a
monotone voice as if quoting a source and then his face went blank.

      “A pickle? The Institute?” I asked. “What are you
talking about Cody?”

      His chin slackened and his mouth opened. He stared at
me as if I’d been the one spouting off nonsense. “What?”

      “What you just said,” I yelled. “You just told me about
some stupid money rule.”

      He gawked at me. “I didn’t say anything.”

He actually stared at me, wide eyed and freaking out, as if I
were the crazy one. He didn’t remember his little speech about rules? Well. If
I was getting being led away by men in white coats, Cody was definitely coming
with me.       

Carb craving forgotten, I held in a horrified screech and
turned and scrambled back upstairs without another word to the brother. I had
to get to Mom’s book. Maybe it could tell me what was going on. Why Cody had
spouted out a witch rule and then couldn’t remember speaking. And while I was
at it, why I was reading his mind sometimes.

Maybe the book would have answers. I hoped so, because I
needed them. I rushed into mom’s room, slamming the door behind me. A gush of
blood exploded between my legs and I groaned wondering how long the period
thing would last. So not what I needed on top of everything else.

      “Sydney,” Cody yelled up the stairs. “I’m leaving for
school in five minutes.”

      “Good for you,” I yelled back. “I’m not coming.”

      Silence. And then his feet clomped up the stairs. He
reached the hallway.

      “What?” he called. “Sydney? You have to come.” His
voice sounded muffled through the door but his apprehension was almost
tangible.

      “Sick. Staying home,” I yelled. “Female problems. Aunt
Flo.” 

Geez. Too much information.

I heard his voice right inside my head.

Get out of my head
, I screamed in my thoughts.

“Whatever,
I’m not in your head,” he yelled. “I’m out of here.” He clomped back down the
hallway.

I
made a face. Having a conversation with my brother without opening my mouth was
not my favorite way to communicate.

Why couldn’t I have gotten a normal sister? Of course I
couldn’t. Not in this family of nut job women.

I
rubbed my head trying to get his voice out.

Dad probably took off to get away from the crazy. If he does
come back he’ll take off as soon as Sydney opens her mouth.

My eyes snapped open. Hey! Not nice! The door slammed behind
him as Cody ran out of the house to his car.

Another noise I didn’t recognize startled me.

I grabbed at my throat and whipped around.

Eyes peered at me from the bed.

      “Oh my God, Magic. You scared me.”

He purred.

“Insolent cat.” I grabbed him and he squirmed but I carried
him to the door and dropped him in the hallway.

I shut the door behind me, marched back to my mom’s walk-in
closet and got down on my knees. I found the latch in the floor and pulled open
the door.

Something brushed against my leg.

I screamed.

Magic rubbed against me, circling my leg.

      “What the heck? Do you walk through doors?” I snapped
at the cat.

      Magic prowled around me kneading the carpet with his
claws and mewing. I glared at him and then shrugged. “I guess there’s no use
throwing you out again.” I ignored his protests and grabbed the book from the
crawl space. I put the door back down and carried the book to the bed and sat,
staring at the cover. Magic purred and padded on top of my bare feet.

“Yup. That’s you all right,” I told him as I looked at the
picture of the cat.

I flipped the book open to the picture of my necklace. Chills
ran down my neck. I reached up and rubbed the jewels and a light pulse hummed
under my fingers. I closed the book and studied the spine. The pendant. I
lifted my shirt and touched my shoulder, my fingers lightly tracing the
identical symbol etched into my skin.

      I lay it flat on my lap and opened it again. The pages
were thick and soft under my fingers. I turned past the first page. A single
sentence was etched into the top of the next page.

“
For every GRANT witch
there is a Sentry.
”

The letters were fancy with lots of loops and flourishes. I
peered closer. I saw images imprinted into the paper in black and white,
pictures of men. The images seemed to go in and out of focus.  

      “Sentry?” I said out loud.

      Magic screeched.

      I jumped up to my feet and then shot him a dirty look
and sat, turning the page.

The Sentry is the Witch’s Guardian, a male who possesses
powers. The powers may be dormant, but he may choose to activate them. The
Sentry protects his Witch without prevaricating.

      I glared down at Magic. “Goobledy gook. So, where is my
Sentry?” I asked him.

      I held my breath, hopeful Magic would answer. “You know
Sabrina’s witch could talk?” I told him.

      I couldn’t help feeling peevish. What was I expecting?
A talking cat to give me answers? I glared at Magic. He hissed. Figured. Non-talking
cat with attitude. I turned back to the page with the shifting images of men.

Spooky was an understatement. Some of the faces were young,
some very old. Some looked friendly, some scary. My fingers traced over the
features of a handsome man and then I pulled back as if the photo had reached
out to grab me. It was a picture of my dad. 

Cody kept a picture in his room, a shot of the two of them.
It was the only framed picture of him in the house. A few pictures float around
in photo albums in the china cabinet but none were on display.

I shivered, seeing his face in the book. Goosebumps scurried
across my arms. I thought of Nana’s words. Warning me to be careful if he
showed up.

She didn’t say he’d turn up in the book. I wondered where
he’d disappeared to after I was born. And if I had something to do with his
going. Or the picture.

I flipped pages. 

     
KINDREDS are sources of energy for Grant Witches.
Witches channel powers through KINDREDS. Kindred’s are faithful navigators,
never betraying the witch or each other. Regeneration is part of their reward
for life with the witch. Kindred’s stay together in every new life.

     
I remembered
Nana calling Cody Kindred. Stevie,
too.

“Nana?”
I said out loud, hoping she would somehow hear me and answer.

Magic cleaned his fur with his sandpapery pink tongue. No
other sound filled the air.

I flipped over a few more pages in the book but I couldn’t
read the writing. It seemed to be a different language, with flourishes and
letters I didn’t recognize.

“It’s official,” I said to my cat. “I’m a witch.”

An overwhelming urge to lie down on the bed and pull the
covers over my head seized me. At least until Nana got home. I didn’t have any
desire to face this on my own. I put the book down and curled up into a fetal
position on the bed.

 “I wish there was someone sane to help me figure this out,”
I whispered out loud.

“Sydney?” A voice called my name from the hallway.

CHAPTER SIX

I jumped to my feet.

“Keith? Oh My God. I almost peed my pants. What are you doing
here?”

“The front door wasn’t locked,” he called through the door.
“Are you okay in there?”

Just friggin fine. Under my breath I whispered the first
outlandish thing I could think of. “I wish Keith was wearing a blue denim
shirt.” Ha. That should mess him up. Keith never wore anything other than black
t-shirts with his jeans.

      I crept to the door and opened it. Keith stood in the
hallway, wearing a denim blue shirt. He smiled at me with his usual half grin.

      “What the heck are you wearing?” I demanded.

      He looked down at his shirt a little puzzled and then
his features crinkled up. “It’s a shirt. What’s wrong, Sydney? Are you the
fashion police? You sound pissed off.”

      I shot him an evil eye. “You never wear denim shirts.”

He rubbed at his chin. “Today I did.”

“And, how’d you know I’d be in my mom’s room?” I didn’t let
go of the door.

      “I saw Cody on the way to school. He flagged me over to
tell me you were in your mom’s room. Freaking out. He asked me to check on you.
What’s going on?”

      Tears gathered at the back of my eyes. I leaned against
the door. A girl can only take so much. Throw in hormone imbalance and who
wouldn’t want to cry?

      I thought of Nana’s warning. Not to tell a soul. Well.
Where was she when I needed her? Besides, Keith was my best friend.