Free Legacy by Calista Anastasia

you play, but…”
    “Don’t worry about a ride then. I can pick you up before the game…if you want to go, that is.”
    “Yes, I want to go. Thanks.”
    He grinned and sli ppe d his arm around her shoulders.
    A few glances slid their way. He was making it clear he liked her. She was Greg’s girl.
     
    ~*~
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
    The rest of the week zoomed by. Other than glowering at her from across the hall or the other side of the gym, Lindy gave her a lot of space. When she heard the jingle-jangle of Lindy's bracelet, she held her breath, but Lindy seemed to be avoiding her like the bubonic plague .
    Mercy continued to use gym class to practice her focused intent. The coach leaned against the wall, smiling and nodding each time she sent the ball through the hoop. Since Mercy hadn’t enjoyed a lot of approval from the coach, she probably should have stopped when she was ahead. T hen the coach told her to move further back and shoot . Mercy should have just given it her usual lam e throw, but something about being successful made her feel lightheaded. When she made a basket from mid-court the whole class stopped to stare.
    Kelli bounced the ball back to her. “Do it again, hotshot!”
    Mercy caught it and gave it a couple of bounces just to center herself. Gotta make this look good. She held the ball in both hands and flexed her knees, giving a little jump as she made a pathetic attempt to get the ball to go in the general direction of the basket. The ball fell way short, the hollow sound as it hitting the court echoed off all t he hard surfaces. She shrugged.
    “Good try, Mercy,” Kelli called and clapped her hands.
    She nodded, glad to have a friend who was always on her side, no matter if she was a hotshot…or not. On the other hand, her failing to make a basket gave Lindy a distinctly smug expression. At least she could make someone happy when she failed.
    By Friday she was a basket case. When she thought about the dance and the dress and Greg she felt like she was about to barf, big time . She leaned against the antique bureau and gazed into the depths of the darkened mirror.
    “Gran? Are you there?” She touched the glass with her fingertips, but no warming sensation greeted her. She struck a match and lit the purple candle. “Gran?” Her voice wound down in a whine that sounded pitiful to her own ears. She closed her eyes and squared her shoulders. No need to be such a wimp.
    “That’s right, dear. You must remain strong.”
    Mercy’s eyes flew open to find Gran gazing at her fondly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
    “I’m always here.”
    Mercy spent the next half hour telling her grandmother about the lessons, about the dance and about Greg. “Wait! Just wait here a minute.” She ran to get her dress and the shoebox containing the very sweet heels. She held them up for her grandmother to see. “What do you think?”
    “Lovely,” Gran pronounced. “And the color is perfect for you.”
    “Is it?” Mercy hated to sound so needy, but she was tired of trying to carry on as though there was nothing wrong. “Gran, may I ask a dumb question?
    Gran smiled, warming her through the glass. “Ask away. I’m certain it’s not a dumb question.”
    “It’s about the witch thing,” she said. “How come I didn’t know about it?”
    “The tradition is to have a coming out ceremony on the young witch’s sixteenth birthday. And yours is coming up in less than a month. ” Her face puckered into a frown. “I’m so sorry you may have to spend your birthday alone, my dear.”
    Mercy shrugged. “Me too. I ’ll miss you if you don’t make it home .” She recalled the beautiful lemon crème cake with chocolate frosting her grandmother had made for her last birthday . “ I was looking forward to cake.”
    “I ’ll try my best to be home, my dear. If these Minah creatures would just cooperate.” She spread her hands wide as though Mercy should understand. “ How are your lessons