Free The Suburban Strange by Nathan Kotecki Page B

crimson, as though a droplet of blood were diffusing into a bowl of apricot juice.
     
    AT LUNCH CELIA LOOKED AROUND at Regine, Liz, Ivo, and Brenden. Though she felt more comfortable with them, still she rarely initiated conversation, being content to be included whenever they saw fit. Now she summoned her courage and said, "Do you think there's anything strange going on at school?" They looked blankly at her, and she half wished she had kept quiet. But she had to try to explain herself now. "Girls are getting hurt — having accidents, or some kind of health problem."
    "Like a curse?" The way Liz said it, it was clear she was not inclined to give the idea much credence. "I guess I'm not that superstitious."
    “I’m not either,” Celia quickly agreed. “Or I wouldn’t be . . . but I think there’s something strange about my chemistry lab partner, too.”
    Regine took over as the voice of skepticism. “Like what?”
    “I don’t know . . . She’s really nice, but she does some things that are hard to explain. She doesn’t measure anything when we do our experiments, but everything turns out perfectly. And this morning I saw her coming in from the bus, and I swear her shadow was flickering.”
    “You think she’s what, a witch, and she’s putting curses on other girls?” Ivo asked. Celia couldn’t tell if he was mocking her, but she thought it was likely.
    “A witch? Do people believe in witches anymore?” Brenden asked.
    “Well, they still make movies about them,” Liz replied. She turned back to Celia. “Seriously, you think she’s a witch?”
    “I don’t know. Some boys were being mean to her, and the leaves on the tree above her changed color.”
    “Are you sure? I mean, that’s wild,” Liz said.
    “I’m pretty sure.”
    “It would be pretty crazy to make that up,” Ivo said. “So you’re wondering if the injuries aren’t accidents at all, but something more sinister. What does this girl look like?”
    “She’s kind of plain—actually, she’s over there,” Celia said, spotting Mariette across the cafeteria, “with the reddish blond hair and the pink sweater.”
    The four of them watched Mariette put her books down at a table, and her notebook fell to the floor. She gathered it up, and then sat down to tie the frayed lace on her weather-beaten Converse. Her frazzled hair went in every direction, including over her face, and she pushed out her lower lip to blow the curls away. Celia saw Mariette through her friends’ eyes and knew they weren’t going to be impressed with her.
    “Well, if she’s a—we’re going with witch, are we?—then she doesn’t seem to be doing anything to help herself,” Brenden said. “I’m sorry, but wouldn’t she use her powers to look a little more put-together? She just looks kind of a mess.”
    They turned back to the table. “Yeah, I’m crazy,” Celia said, suddenly wishing she never had brought this scrutiny to Mariette.
    “If she’s a good chem partner, no problem there,” Regine said. “Isn’t Mr. Sumeletso insanely hard?”
    “Not really. We got an A on our first experiment,” Celia told her.
    “See, Regine, it’s just you,” Ivo said.
    “That’s not true! I got the highest grade on our first lab, and it was a C-plus!”
    “Hey, do you want to do an illustration for the school paper?” Liz asked Celia. “The next issue is in two weeks, and I was going to run a photo of the school that features the new wing, but a drawing might be a nice touch.”
    “Sure,” Celia said, relieved that the subject of Mariette had been dropped.
    “What are you doing this weekend?” Regine asked her.
    “I don’t know. I need to spend some time on my room. I painted it gray, and it looks so much better than when you saw it. But I cleared a lot of stuff out, and it’s kind of empty.”
    “That’s cool. What do you have in mind?”
    “I’m taking my time with it. It just didn’t feel like me, you know? I want to make sure it feels