High School Magical

Chapter 8

Yassi weaves easily through the maze of round tables. I end up bumping into a girl with one eye, a fairy, and boy with golden hair and eyes. "Sorry, excuse me, pardon," I say in turn as I try to make my way across the dining hall.

Finally, when I move to sit down at an empty chair Yassi whispers, "No, not there." She signals a different empty seat. "I rescued you from being bored to death by Quince." She gestures to the boy on the other side of her. "He requires a buffer. We were in class together last year. Trust me; you don't want to hear him talk about his polymorphous theories. Bor-ing." She mocks falling asleep. "Well, unless you're a changeling interested in hacking your biochemical makeup."

Quince takes a bite of green beans, sneezes, and pushes his glasses higher on his nose. A girl sits down on his other side and as if on cue, he asks her, "Have you heard the relevant theory on—"

"So, Applemoor 101," Yassi says, taking a delicate bite of her taco. "Goodness, I love these. Did you get guacamole?" she asks when she's done chewing.

I nod with a mouthful.

"Let's see. You have the geeks, book worms, and straight-A students."

"That sounds like me."

Yassi laughs. "And me."

"There are the athletes." She points to a few tables that overflow with larger than average students. They might be actual giants.

"Yes. They're giants. Humanoid magical beings gained admission several years back, but usually it's on scholarship or athletic ability."

"Wait? There are other magical schools?"

"Of course, there are. Thistle, Ravensara, Broadcoat, and Tate to name a few. If you're wondering, Hogwarts isn't one of them. Some things really are fantasy."

I scan the room for Hagrid, just in case she's wrong.

My attention lands on a table full of guys dressed all in black, reminding me of the boy by the bonfire. "Who're they?" I ask.

"The rebels. Looks like the werewolves joined them." She tilts her head to the left. "And the vamps."

"As in vampires?"

"You got it."

"They're magical?"

"Not all vampires, some of them are blood sucking idiots, but a select few who're sent here, yup lots of magic. Just like humans."

I observe the table with quiet fascination. I went through an intense Twilight phase.

"The girls with the colorful hair are the changelings. You can tell because they have different colored hair, skin, facial arrangements, you name it, practically every day. Also the pixies, elves, and so on." She trails off turning toward what sounds like the clip clop like of hooves on tile. When I turn, I'm face to face with a broad chestnut chest.

"Hi, Wyatt," Yassi says in a singsong voice.

"Centaur extraordinaire, at your service," says a guy who's half horse, half, well, boy—a very attractive boy.

"Have you ever seen hair like that?" Yassi says softly to me, twirling a finger through her own. "I'm so jealous."

Gone is the radiant girl and in comes the giggling flirt. Wyatt appears and suddenly she's goo. I have to admit, he is handsome: tan, muscular bare chest, well-defined arms, and a strong jawline. His hair is a long, dark mane of silky, shiny perfection. Everything about him is handsome, by anyone's standards.