Some Kind of Magic

Westwood Private School was ridiculous. It was like Beverly Hills for rich and scholar Canadian teenagers, minus the fact that they got to wear whatever they wanted. Obviously people gave dirty looks when the new girl showed up. I had kind of just assumed that everyone already studying here had been there since they started counting grades, so most of the people in my grade now probably came when they were in ninth. My mom had told me as well that it was difficult to get me into it since I had been at another high school before coming to this one, but she somehow managed to squeeze me in for the last two years. I was here on a scholarship because the minute my parents decided to move schools, they made me apply through a bunch of different summer programs at Westwood. It wasn’t like we struggled with money either, they just liked taking the easy way out so they wouldn’t have to drop thousands of dollars on school. And that wasn’t even counting my University fund. They were set on me applying to Harvard, but I didn’t want to go Cambridge, Massachusetts just because they thought it was best for me. Besides, I took no interest in any of the programs they offered. I didn't even know what I wanted to do when I got older but they wouldn't have any of my ideas; they already had their minds made up and if I didn’t willingly apply for Harvard, they were going to do it and forcefully relocate me. That was probably the worst thing about them. They were so unsupportive of my decisions, and could not handle the idea of things going my way instead of theirs.

“Have fun today!” Blade called to me through the open window on my side of the car. I had stepped out moments before and taken a look up at Westwood, amazed. He drew my attention away from it when he started speaking though. “I’ll pick you up after school, okay? Don’t let anyone embarrass you or mom will have to kick some ass.”

A group of three girls walked by, looked at Blade and then me, and walked away laughing.

I sighed and glared at my brother. “Embarrass like you just did?”

He grinned. “Do I need to call you ‘baby sister’?”

“Do I need to hit you?”

“Have a good day!” he chuckled and drove away. I smiled and turned back to the school, taking a deep breath. The biggest difference between Westwood and some high school you would see in the movies was that it was a lot more gothic than I had expected. It was all four-floored surrounding a very open quad with gigantic overgrown elm trees in the grassed areas. And the fact that it was on the verge of raining today made it that much more creepy to be starting out with no one I knew around—at least not in eye sight. But my little guardian angel appeared then, in the form of Broderick Kingsleigh.

“Isabelle?” his voice called from behind while I stood dead in the center of the quad. I turned around to face him. He laughed and put his arms out, stepping forward. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Did you transfer?”

“Unfortunately,” I replied. “Parent’s decision. I would have preferred never switching schools but it’s their word that ends the argument.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” Broderick was Emma’s best friend since she and her dad decided to move out of British Columbia and stay here because of all the family they had without living on the coast. They went to the same school in grade eight and instantly clicked. It was obviously hard for her to adjust—and also her dad, seeing as he had to get an entirely different job—but Broderick was more than welcoming. He was like her own little cherub that looked over her constantly, just as he had come to me right now and I was extremely thankful I had a familiar face to refer to. I knew that Emma went to school at Westwood, but I had yet to find her through the day.

“Do you need any help locating your classes?” Broderick asked, pulling on his blazer and fixing his tie. I knew it wasn’t just me that found them highly irritating. “It’s kind of easy to get lost around here.”

“Yeah, that would actually be amazing, thank you so much,” I said enthusiastically, eyes slightly widened.

“No problem! Hey, if you ever need any help, let me know. I’m your go-to guy.”

I nodded. “Got you. Do you know what Emma’s first period is, by the way?”

“I think it’s piano,” he replied and held out his hand to me. I placed my schedule in it and he took a quick glance at it before looking back up and nodding to the East building. “Around here, you get a locker for all your days since there are more lockers than there are students so you don’t have to worry about it switching every year. As long as you have a lock, you’re assigned one until you graduate so I can show you where hers is if you would like.”

“I would love that.” Broderick smiled and held the door opened for me. As we walked down the hall, he told me what a normal day at Westwood was like. It sounded like high school, except much more conservative. There wasn’t as much stress on dress code seeing as everyone wore basically the same thing, but if girls decided to snip at their skirts to make them shorter or leave their blouses unbuttoned, or if the boys wore their pants below their butt, they would get a suitable punishment. Most of the time, it was just detention during their lunch period but sometimes it was a little more severe.

“We like to think our school is the best but it’s kind of hard to when, outside of the classes taught here, we’re just as bad with drama and relationships as any other high school. Look,” Broderick said, pointing to a couple kissing feverously against lockers. I scowled in disgust. “PDA is something highly frowned upon around here. If you get caught, you’re in big shit.”

“I just can’t catch a break,” I muttered.

Broderick smiled. “You’ll be fine. Once you settle into a group of friends, they’ll look out for you. Really, the only person you have to watch for is Mackenzie Merrick. She’s pretty much the prodigy child. Her parents were both professors here and you might as well think of her as the next Christina Aguilera or something. That girl has a voice as big as her head, but even though she’s probably the main student of the music department, she’s extremely obnoxious.”

“And extremely dumb,” a male voice came from behind and we stopped where we were, turning around. Another boy—tall but not too tall, with gorgeous blue eyes and reddish-brown hair, obviously an athletics student—walked up to us with his binder tucked under his arm, hand in his uniform pants pocket and a welcoming smile on his face. “I’m Dylan,” he said, taking his hand out and offering it to me. I shook it firmly and smiled back at him. “You’re Isabelle, right? Emma’s told us a lot about you.”

“She has?” I was surprised. Emma and I were close obviously, but I hadn’t expected to be the talk amongst her friends.

“Absolutely. She’s really excited you’ve come to our school. The guys want some fresh meat around here but us normal people are tired of seeing the same boring faces everywhere we go,” he answered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” I looked over at Broderick and whispered, “Should I take that as a compliment?”

He laughed. “Dylan’s the top dog around here. He may not excel in his classes but he knows his stuff when it comes to who to make nice with and who to avoid."

Dylan scowled. "Hey, I’m smart, you dickhead.”

Broderick laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, okay. Have you seen Emma, by the way?” he asked Dylan. “I know that most of the time, she’s at her locker by now but she usually texts me before she gets to school.”

“I think she’s sick today,” Dylan said and cast a glance at me, obviously sensing my discomfort. “Don’t worry about it, Iz. You can hang out with us at lunch.”

I already had a nickname, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning.

“Yeah, we won’t leave you to eat by yourself in the bathroom,” Broderick said. “Just meet me here after second period. This is my locker.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“I’ve got to go,” Dylan said. “I have first period right off Massey Hall and if I don’t book it to DuPont by the bell, I’ll be in shit. See you guys.”

Broderick and I gave him a wave and he raced out the doors. “What’s Massey Hall and DuPont?” I asked, turning to face Broderick again as he worked out on his lock.

“Massey Hall is basically just this big hall all the way down the North building, who’s official name is DuPont. All of the buildings have main halls that split into other ones, but I’ll explain it to you at lunch. We’ll go to the café and you can meet Dylan’s brother and Elsie,” he said, grabbing his book bag. “Will you remember how to get here?”

“Maybe. “I looked around, trying to find some distinguishing features that could help me out. “I’m pretty good with retracing my steps. This is just a huge school so it’ll take some getting used to.”

“Okay, well your second period is over in the Kennedy building,” he said, giving me my schedule back.

“And where’s the Kennedy building?” I asked. He smiled.

“West building,” he replied. “This is the Brigg’s Center. It’s mostly for athletics and spare lockers even though we already have so many. The office and guidance are also here so if you go to either one of those, you can ask for the locker next to mine. I’m sure that’ll be easier to remember.” I bit my lip. Broderick looked at me for a minute, then spoke again; “You don’t know where the office is, do you?”

I shook my head and he sighed, closing his locker and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “You have a lot to learn.”



Dylan had a twin brother, Robbie Sinclair but I didn’t find that out until I had passed him in the hall, mistaking him for Dylan. I had waved at him and called out his name numerous times but he only ignored me. But when he gave me a really weird look and walked over to correct me and properly introduce himself, only then did I understand. There were a few defining personality traits and physical differences that made them different, like how Dylan was much calmer and held himself well. I could tell the minute I saw him that he was very strong-willed and independent. Robbie, however, was much burlier, fairly tough-looking but majorly sweet at heart. He was one of those guys that proved the sentence “don’t judge a book by its cover” to be correct. His hair was also a bit lighter than Dylan’s, but he claimed it was natural highlights from the Sun since he was outside so much.

Broderick had gotten me a locker down the hall from him because the one directly beside his had been claimed mere minutes before I asked for it. He also managed to show me around the school and locate my classes before the bell rang. My first period was advanced French, but everyone was so fluently already that I felt extremely out of place. By “advanced”, they obviously underestimated themselves, because what they really should have wrote was “so difficult you’ll want to kill yourself”. Now I understood what Broderick meant when he said all the classes taught at Westwood were the best. It was like being in University, except with a ridiculously annoying uniform.

I met Broderick at his locker before we went to lunch. The cafeteria was on the whole other side of the building but luckily it wasn’t on the other side of the school. If that were the case and I had to walk across the quad every day, I would have just spent my lunches by the library, especially in the winter. The table that Broderick led me to was at the far side of the cafeteria. Dylan and Robbie were both already there, and so was a Puerto Rican girl. As we approached, I got a better look at her. Even though she was sitting, I could tell from her upper body that she was probably a fairly short girl, unless her legs were just freakishly long. I had to take a look under the table quickly to confirm that she was, in fact, proportionate. She had long dark hair that went all the way down her back, and deep brown eyes. She was talking to Dylan but looked up when we stepped over.

“Hey guys,” Broderick said. “Robbie and Elsie, this is Isabelle.”

“I know. We met,” Robbie said with a smile.

“So you’re the girl Emma’s been talking about. She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Elsie said, elbowing Dylan in the side. “Well, as Brody said, I’m Elsie Vega. It’s nice to meet you.” She stood up and offered me her hand across the table, so I shook it and nodded.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said, sitting down. Elsie and Broderick both joined me.

“So where are you from?”

“RCI,” I replied, taking my lunch out of my bag.

“Oh really? You’re from Riverview? How was it?” Robbie asked. “I heard there are a lot of fights.”

I shrugged. “No more than any other high school. People say there are more than there are so students won’t want to transfer there. They’d be too scared but really, we were one of the mellow schools. We just had a lot of unresolved drama.”

Elsie snorted. “What school doesn’t?”

“Do you have a boyfriend there?” Dylan asked, crossing his arms on the table.

“Nope. I’m flying solo,” I answered.

“Best way to go,” Robbie chimed.

“So have you met the Queen Bee yet?” Elsie asked, a deep scowl appearing on her face suddenly.

“Mackenzie? No. I’ve seen her because she’s in my second period but I haven’t talked to her yet,” I replied. “I don’t plan on it either. Broderick told me to look out for her.”

“Well you don’t have much to worry about. She’s on Elsie’s ass all the time,” Dylan said.

Elsie put her arms out. “Obviously not literally but we have a never-ending feud with each other. She can’t stand me, she hates my guts.”

I looked at her curiously. “Why?”

“Because I hang out with Robbie, and she loves him,” she replied with a one-shoulder shrug.

“They’re practically married,” Broderick whispered in my ear but obviously a little too loud because Elsie chucked one of her dinner rolls at him and it hit him in the face. “Ow! What the hell, Elsie? This is a rock!”

“Hey, I made those!” she exclaimed.

He just stared at her, and then repeated, “this is a rock.”

“We’re not married,” Robbie said now, “but we have been best friends since we were four years old. And Mackenzie wants to date me but she sees Elsie of someone of a threat, even though there’s no reason to. We’re just friends and nothing is going to happen between Mackenzie and I even if Elsie and I didn't know each other from childhood.”

I nodded. “Okay, so if she says anything to me about you guys . . .”

“She shouldn't, but if she does, then just ignore her.”

“Hello, lovelies,” a feminine voice chimed from behind but when I turned around, a tall, sassy boy with curly blond hair stood with a hand on his hip and the other on the back of my chair. That was not something I was expecting. “Well now, who is this gorgeous creature? I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before."

I laughed awkwardly. “Thank you.”

“I’m Christopher Gaines, but you my dear, can call me Chrissy.”

Good God.

“Chris is the school’s student body president,” Dylan said with a smile, folding his arms on the table. “If you ever need to talk to anyone about joining clubs or improving the school, he’s the one to go to.”

“Yes I am,” he said, putting his hand out for me to shake in a manner that was feminine than even I could pull off. I took it and he grinned. “And what’s your name?”

“Isabelle Donahue,” I replied. “I’m new this year.”

“Well we’re proud to have you. I just wanted to come and introduce myself before I visited other people. Ciao!” He turned around after he sent the table of people I was with a courteous wave, and walked to another group across the cafeteria. I looked back at them, a little puzzled but Elsie just shook her head.

“Chris is probably the proudest homosexual in the world,” she said. “He’s a total sweetheart but sometimes he’s not entirely sure when to stop. You’ll realize that if you become good friends with him; not to say he’s a bad friend.”

“Yeah, he’s anything but,” Robbie agreed.

“Exactly. He just isn’t fully aware of when to close his mouth.”

“Does he have a lot of friends?” I asked.

Dylan snorted. “Are you kidding? He’s basically friends with everyone that goes here, even the teachers. It’s hard not to love him.” He leaned back and folded his arms, looking me dead in the eye. “Our school accepts gays, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t drama.”

“Yeah, so don’t let your first day fool you,” Elsie chimed in suddenly. “It’s like the calm before the storm because, believe me, your year is going to be anything but uneventful.”

Great, I thought, internally scowling. Only 193 days left.