Old Magic by Marianne Curley

made a huge mistake last Monday, and he really didn’t cause that storm in the lab. It all seems like a dream now, even though a temporary lab has been set up in the Admin block until the repairs are complete. But what about that enchanted wind in Jillian’s shop? Was that simply my imagination?
    If Jarrod doesn’t have the gift then I’ve made an earth-shattering fool of myself and given a complete stranger enough ammunition to have the whole town laughing in my face, snickering behind my back even more than before. These thoughts are disturbing. My face goes hot like I’ve just stuck it inside Jillian’s kiln.
    I’m relieved when school is finally over for the day. The chilling wind is actually quite refreshing, cooling me off. I start reliving the things I told Jarrod—every stupid word.
    As I make my way home I realize, either way, I’ve blown it.
    Kate
    The Icehouse is crowded. Everyone’s here, everyone, it seems, except Jarrod. Jessica Palmer’s here though, hanging out with a loud group of boys mostly—Pecs, Ryan, Pete O’Donnell—her usual crowd. I wonder what’s happened to Tasha? Pecs has an arm thrown over the back of Jessica’s seat. Occasionally his hand slides down and grips Jessica’s shoulder, giving it a revolting squeeze.
    Hannah notices this little play. “Look at that.” With disgust in her voice she indicates with a flick of her head the rowdy group consisting of Pecs and his mates. They have the center two tables drawn together, so they’re hard to miss. Their desired effect. “Did you hear? Tasha’s given Pecs the shove.”
    I stare at her. This is big news.
    She’s rapt she has my whole attention. “Apparently she gave him an ultimatum: accept Jarrod into their group, or get lost. Can you believe it? Underneath that macho exterior Pecs is a kitten licking Her Highness’s feet. And,” she continues without even taking a breath, “rumor has it, Tasha’s got Jarrod dangling off her royal hook.”
    I try to remember to breathe.
    “Of course, Jessica Palmer didn’t get a say. She knows her place.”
    I try to absorb it all; the image of Pecs in the form of a thickset furry animal on all fours at Tasha’s feet almost makes me laugh. It goes to show who really rules around here. The feminists would be pleased. I guess Jarrod is too. The part about him and Tasha, though not surprising, devastates me anyway. It’s something he’s longed for—to be accepted. I sensed it on his first day, the need burning deeply inside him to be part of a group. He sure hit the jackpot with this lot, they are the most popular group in school. He’s really winning.
    We sit in a distant corner, farthest booth from the door. We don’t come here a lot, but when we do, this booth is my favorite, semi-concealed behind the jutting corner of the cafe counter, nearest the kitchen—out of eyeshot unless you’re looking.
    I guess I know where Jarrod is now—out with Tasha Daniels. They’re probably taking in a movie first. I cringe at the thought of him watching that witch-burning rubbish they’re showing this weekend.
    They walk in about half an hour later, Tasha swaying her skinny hips as she dances around the tables. She looks stylish and leggy, her long blond hair bouncing around her slender shoulders as she flicks a look back occasionally, making sure Jarrod is right behind her. He may as well be wearing a collar and chain.
    I try not to stare at Tasha’s short, tight, bright red skirt. She’s wearing black tights underneath that give the illusion of eternal length. Her ice-blue midriff top reveals a perfectly rounded navel pierced with an expensive gold ring. She has to be freezing in this getup. I snort loudly, seething with jealousy. The malignant thought hits me as I reach into my jeans pocket for a tissue: She has Jarrod to keep her warm. God, it’s so unfair!
    “What a turn,” Hannah remarks, shaking her head. “You never told me, whatd’ya think?”
    She means Pecs getting dumped