The Young Witch's Chronicles: Legacy Part 1

The Young Witch's Chronicles.

Legacy.

by Calista Anastasia.

Dedication.

My heartfelt appreciation goes to the fabulous and multi-published author, Dotti Enderle, for her friends.h.i.+p and advice and also to the equally fabulous Candace Fitzpatrick whose rock-steady friends.h.i.+p sustains me. Love you both.

CHAPTER ONE.

The bell went off like a bomb detonating inside her head. She filed out of her last period cla.s.s, envisioning herself as a robot shuffling down the hall to her locker. She twirled her combination and swung the door wide. Stuffing the books she needed into her backpack, she turned toward the exit. Raised voices and the clang of metal rebounded off the hard surfaces to a.s.sault her ears. She trudged along, eager to escape the din and find others of her species.

She merged with the rest of the students pouring out of Tannersville High School like ants swarming out of a flooded hill.

Mercy Young carefully climbed down the worn granite steps, her arms loaded with library books for her English paper. Her bulging backpack with its broken zipper hung heavily on her arm.

She made it to the sidewalk without losing her load and looked around for her friends, but when she didn't see them, headed for the flagpole, their rendezvous point. She rested against the big concrete base and balanced the backpack on the edge.

Raising her face, she closed her eyes allowing the afternoon sun to warm her. C'mon. Gimme some Vitamin D, and maybe a cool tan.

She heard a commotion; picked out a particular voice and opened her eyes. When she located the source she sucked in a breath and stood up straighter. There he is, his Royal Awesomeness. She felt a strangling sensation like all the air was being sucked out of her lungs. OMG! He's looking straight at me! She wished her hands weren't full so she could at least brush her hair out of her eyes. The long blonde strands were flying around in the breeze. I should have brushed it. I should have used a scrunchy.

Greg Lambert, the absolute cutest boy ever, was staring at her. He looked away when one of his buds from baseball pushed him. He laughed and shoved back, but just for a moment he was actually looking at her.

She tried to breathe in and out like a normal person. Yeah, right. Like Greg Lambert would ever notice me. She tried not to stare as he joked with some of his jock friends. He glanced at Mercy again before he swung his backpack and gear on the ground. His friends cl.u.s.tered around him, hooting and jostling, but Greg was taller and she could see his brown hair above the horde.

Mercy stared at his profile as he talked with his friends. Whenever he looked at her, her cheeks got pink and she found someplace else to gaze. She should have smiled when he glanced at her. She should have waved. She sighed. Like that's ever gonna happen.

She spied one of her best friends, Felicity Porter, leaving the auditorium carrying her cello case in front of her like an elephant carries its trunk. She looked so very serious as she threaded her way through the stream of jostling students.

Mercy looked over the crowd of students. Bleh! Here comes trouble. Her stomach clenched when Lindy Boyd, Amy Hoffman and Becca Mandrake emerged from the building giggling and squealing, as usual. Lindy led the way, as usual and she pranced straight up to Greg, as usual.

"Hi Greg!" she sang. When she waved at him, the silver charm bracelet on her wrist jingle jangled. "You were so awesome at the game Sat.u.r.day. I could have just died when you hit the ball into the infield." She bellowed out a laugh that sounded like a demented donkey bray, but Greg seemed to like it. He grinned and looked pleased.

Mercy tried not to frown and when she felt her lower lip jutting out, she sucked it back in. How could Greg be snared by Lindy's flirtatious fawning? I wish she would get what she deserves.

Lindy stepped back and fell flat on her bottom. She looked shocked and turned bright red when the baseball players laughed. Greg offered a hand, but her girlfriends cl.u.s.tered around to help her scramble to her feet.

Mercy couldn't help but giggle at all the fuss.

Lindy's face twisted into a sneer as she spun around to face Mercy. "What are you looking at, Brainiac?"

Mercy's stomach roiled as she heard the familiar epithet. Lindy had called her this since grade school when her straight A report cards were acknowledged in school and her starred papers were displayed around the room by her proud teachers. Now, it was accepted all over school. Mercy and her friends were the official nerds of Tannersville High and as such, had an astronomical cootie count which made them untouchable by those with a much cooler ranking.

Lindy's eyes narrowed to mean little slits. She strode to where Mercy stood and knocked her backpack off the ledge. The zipper split open, spilling the contents on the ground. The other girls laughed. Lindy tossed her hair, her silver charm bracelet jingle-jangling on her wrist. She turned, stomping back to where her friends grouped in a herd.

Mercy's cheeks burned. The laughter died down and she knelt to gather her books and homework.

"I'll help you."

She looked up to find herself staring into big, brown eyes the color of melted chocolate. "Oh, I...um..."

Greg smiled. He squatted down beside her and began to collect her books. "Here ya go." He grinned at Mercy and stuffed the books back into her ragged backpack as she straightened her papers.

"Thanks, Greg," she said, but couldn't meet his gaze. Her chest felt like it was filled with feathers.

"Don't let those girls get to you." He hoisted the backpack onto the ledge and stood, leaning against the concrete. He held two of her library books in one big paw.

Mercy was aware that Lindy and her friends were staring. Feeling the weight of their gaze, she tried to ignore them. She took a moment before standing up with as much grace as she could muster. Sucking in a deep breath, she let it out before casting a shy smile at Greg.

"So, were you at the game on Sat.u.r.day?" he asked.

"Um, no. My grandmother needed me." Man, that was lame! He'll think I'm some kind of nerdy brainiac like Lindy and her friends call me. "I mean, she needed me to do something for her." Duh! Yeah, that was a whole lot better.

He nodded. "That's cool. I made two hits. I wish you could have seen me." He sounded like he really meant it.

"Me too." She looked up to see Felicity making her way down the front steps, the cello case leading the way.

Lindy gestured toward Felicity and she and Becca laughed.

"Oh, no!" Train wreck! Mercy hurried to the bottom of the steps and reached for the instrument, hoping to guide Felicity past Lindy and her spiteful friends.

Lindy snickered and stuck out her foot to trip Felicity, but got the cello instead, resulting in Mercy catching the cello and Felicity stomping on Lindy's foot.

"Yowch! You clumsy cow! Watch where you're going." Lindy's face drew into a snarl, her teeth bared like a dog about to bite.

Amy and Becca gathered round to commiserate with her. "The grace of a water buffalo." "Unbelievable!" "Baby hippo."

The words swirled around as the three girls blabbered and scolded, each trying to out do the other with scathing remarks. They sounded like the geese on the pond at the edge of town. When they were upset their squawks could be heard from quite a distance.

Felicity's face turned red and her eyes got teary. Her hands shook when she reached for the cello. Mercy helped her guide it to where Greg stood holding her books and backpack.

"Why are they always so mean?" Felicity asked. "It's not like I meant to step on her."

Mercy shook her head. "You didn't. She tried to trip you. She got what she deserved." She caught her breath. That was exactly what she was thinking before Lindy fell on her backside. Wouldn't it be great if wishes could really come true?

She helped Felicity wedge the cello case against the flagpole and realized that Greg was waiting for her. She turned back and reached for the books, but he held on to them.

He took a step closer and cleared his throat. "Um...there's something I wanted to ask you."

Mercy's throat sort of closed up. She couldn't say anything, so she just leaned against the base of the flagpole for support.

Felicity looked wide-eyed, surprised to find Greg standing between them. Quietly, she took a step back and busied herself by pawing through her bag.

"I was thinking," he said. "Are you going to the dance a week from Friday?"

She couldn't breathe. Her heart throbbed in her ears like a drummer jamming out. "I hadn't thought about it," she stammered.

"I mean, with me. Would you like to go to the dance with me?" Greg stood staring at her, his big brown eyes looking like an eager puppy.

Is he joking? Boys like Greg don't date girls like me.

Mercy could see Felicity nodding her head up and down and mouthing the word, "yes". She wondered briefly if she was dreaming or having a hallucination. Greg Lambert was asking her to go to a school dance. All the reasons to say no were swirling through her head. She had nothing to wear. She'd never had a real date with a boy before. And she wasn't sure what her grandmother would say. "Sure, Greg." It was as if someone else were speaking the words.

He grinned as though this was the best news ever. "Great. I can pick you up just before seven."

Mercy nodded, her stomach clenched like a fist. "Okay." She managed to return his grin.

He released his hold on her books and went back to stand with the other ball players. He glanced back to give her a wink, then turned to his buds.

Lindy glared at her, sending hate messages with her eyes.

Felicity clasped her hands together. "Oh, this is fabulous." She enunciated each syllable: fab-u-lus.

Yeah, right. She jumped when a horn tooted nearby.

"Here's Kelli!" Felicity announced. Hefting the cello case, she headed through the gate and stuffed her instrument in the back seat before climbing in beside it.

Mercy gathered her backpack and s.h.i.+fted the books so she could manage her load. She climbed into the front seat of Kelli's car and turned to gaze at Greg as they drove away.

"Guess what?" Felicity squealed. "Mercy has a date!"

"What?" She threw on the brakes dramatically, sending Mercy lurching forward against the seatbelt and her books onto the floorboard. "With who?" Kelli turned around in the seat, oblivious to the horns honking behind her.

"With whom," Felicity corrected automatically. "You will never guess in a ka-zillion years!"

A horn blared again.

"All right, all right. I'm going." Kelli inched the car forward at a maddening pace. "Someone better spill it or I'm pulling over." She shook her head, sending her bright red pony tail to wagging.

Mercy drew a breath, not sure how to inform Kel that the hottest guy in school had asked her for a date, but she needn't have bothered.

"Greg Lambert!" Felicity screamed.

Kelli screamed. They all screamed in unison.

"What happened? Did he lose a bet?" Kelli glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror.

My thoughts exactly. Mercy slipped the backpack onto the floor beside her strewn books.

Felicity made a scoffing sound. "Don't be ridiculous. He came up and asked her to go to the dance, just as nice as anything." Her voice went all gooey. "It was so romantic."

Kelli shoved her gla.s.ses up on her short freckled nose. "Are you sure? Maybe he was just asking if you planned on going to the dance." She pressed on the gas pedal and the honking stopped.

"That's what I thought at first," Mercy said. "But he asked me to go to the dance with him and said he would pick me up."

Kelli grinned, her s.h.i.+ny braces sending a metallic flash. "How's your grandmother going to take that? I mean, you on a car date with Greg."

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that." The reality hit her like a truck. She didn't have anything to worry about because Gran probably wouldn't let her go. She stretched comfortably on the seat, rehearsing how she would tell Greg that she couldn't be his date to the dance.

"I think we should all go," Felicity said. "You know, without dates. That way, we can keep our options open."

Kelli nodded. "I'm in. How about you, Mercy."

"I think I'll see what Gran says."

"Good idea," Felicity said. "And if she won't let you go with Greg, tell her Kel and I are going and you can ride with us."

Mercy nodded, more to herself than to them, not sure what would be the best thing to do. Kelli drew to a stop outside Mercy's house and threw the car into gear with a lurch. She was a whole five months older than Mercy and had just recently gotten her license.

Mercy climbed out and waved goodbye to Felicity and Kelli. She turned toward the house she shared with her grandmother. It was painted a bright blue with yellow shutters. Gran's sedan was parked under the carport on the side of the house and Mercy's bicycle was leaning against the house beside it. A neat picket fence surrounded the yard and contained a wild profusion of flowers blooming with riotous colors.

Coming home to this house always made her smile. It was just a small cottage in a small town, but she felt safe here with Gran. From what, she didn't know, but coming home was like entering a fortress, a haven where the outside world ceased to exist. The house seemed to have its own life force.

Mercy spotted her grandmother kneeling amongst her vegetable beds in the front garden. She had been pulling weeds and a basket of her fresh bounty gave proof of her labors.

Gran straightened when the gate creaked and her eyes lit up when she saw Mercy pus.h.i.+ng through with her load of books. "There you are, dear. I'm glad you're home."

"Hey, Gran," Mercy called before turning back to wave at Kelli and Felicity again. "Need some help?"

"Need some company," her grandmother returned. She tucked a flyaway strand of hair under her garden hat. Gran always referred to her hair as free range hair, and claimed it had a mind of its own.

Gran didn't look like all the little old ladies in town. In fact, if her hair wasn't white, she wouldn't look like anyone's grandmother. She was tall and slim with clear blue eyes. And her skin was nice, really nice. Not like some wrinkledy old lady's.

Mercy opened the front door and dumped her books and bag inside before joining her grandmother. She dreaded telling her about the dance. She was certain Gran wouldn't allow it. She was a little strict in comparison with her friend's parents. But then, she had lost her own daughter, Mercy's mother, along with Mercy's father in a plane crash. Gran wouldn't talk about it. When the subject came up, her eyes clouded and she whispered, "They just flew away, and I never saw them again."

The haunted expression on her face was enough to steer Mercy away from asking too many questions.

Now Gran was gazing intently into Mercy's eyes.

She felt exposed under Gran's scrutiny.

"Well, tell me," Gran urged.

"Well, I...um..." She wondered how her grandmother always knew when something was on her mind. "I have a date!"

Gran's blue eyes seemed to flash a little green fire from deep in their cavernous pools. "Indeed?" The word seemed to hang on air.