Flunked (Fairy Tale Reform School, #1)(11)

“Who?” I ask.

“Professor Wolfington,” Kayla says as if I should know this. “The Wolf? The one who ate Red’s granny? He’s everyone’s favorite professor—strict but actually listens. He’s a good guy. Er, I mean wolf. Wolf man.” She waves her hand. “Whatever.”

The clock on Flora’s desk chimes seven, and Kayla flies back to the standing lamp in the corner of the room. “Remember what I said—be nice and your move will go smoothly.” Her eyes glow. “Who knows? You might even be my new roomie! My last one went missing a while ago,” she says, and before I can ask why… POOF! She vanishes.

“I thought you were in for using fairy magic,” I whisper.

Kayla’s laughter floats through the room. “Let’s say I haven’t been reformed yet.”

I hear the doorknob turn and quickly sit back down.

“Be nice!” Kayla reminds me.

The Wolf turned professor, a sea witch for an etiquette coach, a delinquent fairy who still uses magic, and an apple cobbler that is killer in a good way?

This place isn’t what I thought it would be. I think I can survive FTRS until I figure out my next move.

The door opens and Flora walks in again.

“So, Gillian,” she says. “Do you want to try having this conversation again?”

Thinking of Kayla, I turn to the headmistress with a sad smile. “I know you want what’s best for me. And I know I can change with FTRS’s help.”

Maybe I should take up acting. I wonder if they offer a course in that here.

Flora sort of smiles. And I’m almost positive that somewhere near that standing lamp, an invisible Kayla just winked at me.





CHAPTER 5


    The Escape Artist


Pete and Olaf are gone. We all walked to the grand foyer to see them out. (“It’s only proper to see a guest off,” Flora told me. Some guests they were. They had me arrested!) Then the heavy wooden doors of the front entrance closed behind them. I wasn’t sad to see those two go, but now…I’m all alone with the stepmonster. (And possibly Kayla.)

“Well, we should get you settled,” Flora says, sounding very un-stepmonster-like. She hands me a heavy stack of papers. The Fairy Tale Reform School insignia is embossed on the top one. “A few rules plus our guidelines for classes and after-school activities,” she says. “And of course, our disciplinary actions policy, which I’m sure you won’t be needing. But first-, second-, and third-offense consequences are listed here.”

I flip through the book quickly. Wow. There are a lot of rules. More than Kayla let on. My eyes begin to glaze over. Then I focus on two words I don’t like: group therapy.

“What’s this?” I ask, pointing to the offensive phrase.

“We find the best way to rehabilitate our students’ behaviors is through sessions with a therapist,” Flora says. “Professor Harlow handles those and they’re quite rewarding.”

“Annoying” would be the word I would choose. Somehow I don’t picture the Evil Queen passing out tissues and wanting to talk about our feelings. “And if I refuse to go?” I jut out my chin defensively.

Flora’s smile is sort of creepy. “Your stay here will be as long as it needs to be.” She waves her hand. “We keep a close eye on our students’ behavior modifications.”

Hmm…I’m not sure I like the sound of this anymore.

“Ready, Headmistress?” The mirror near us begins to glow, and Miri’s voice is loud and clear. I suspect she’s been listening the whole time.

“Yes, thank you, Miri,” Flora says. “Would you like to see your new room, Gillian? I hope you like bunk beds.”

“When you have five brothers and sisters who sleep in the same boot with you, bunk beds are the only way to fit everyone,” I say.

Headmistress Flora nods as if she understands, but I doubt it. Before she built FTRS, she lived here in Galmour Castle. Now she lives in a private wing of the school. She says all the teachers have apartments on campus.

“Well, you won’t find our quarters as cramped as your shoe, that’s for sure,” Flora tells me. “But we do have to find you a roommate. Miri, who do we have available in the girls’ dormitory?”

“We have limited choices,” Miri says grimly. “There’s Sasha, the sprite who keeps chopping off her roommate’s hair while she sleeps.”

I cringe. I may not love my hair, but I do like the length. “I’m not due for a haircut for a while,” I tell Flora.

“Who else do we have?” Flora taps her foot impatiently.

“How about Tara? Her roommate will be in the infirmary all semester because that illegal spell she cast went awry.”

“Any other options?” I ask. “I do not make a good guinea pig.”

Flora runs a hand through her salt-and-pepper hair and exhales. “Miri, who do we have left?”

I pat the quill in my pocket—I need someone who won’t judge my thieving. “I don’t mean to pry, Headmistress, but I saw a paper on your desk about a girl named Kayla needing a new roommate. What about her?”

“Oh God, not that one,” Miri mutters.

“Her picture was on the file, and she didn’t look like someone who would turn me into a toad.”