Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

FRANKIE

As far as PE uniforms went, these weren't bad. My old school made us wear black, and the short sleeves were so short that they were basically to everyone's elbows. We were always melting, even those of us on varsity sports teams who were used to being outside in the heat. But Gulf Shores High School's colors were evidently white, red, and burgundy, and they took the smart path in giving us white T-shirts. And the sleeves were proper length. We all had a choice between burgundy or red athletic shorts, so I grabbed the burgundy. Apparently our mascot was a dragon, because there was a giant red dragon on the front of my shirt. All in all, not too shabby.

By the time I got changed and onto the baseball field out behind the gym, the rest of the class had already taken the field, which meant everyone noticed me walking out there. Not that I ever thought my pink hair would allow me to blend in, but still. The dugout on the left was empty, as that team had taken the field, which meant the dugout I had to walk by was filled with students. All of whom were staring at me. I kept my eyes focused on our teacher, Coach Andrews, standing on the pitcher's mound, but that didn't mean my peripheral vision didn't see them looking. Nor did my ears miss the whispers. I didn't blame them. What kind of parent made their child start a brand-new high school in March? It was uncommon, and therefore a bit of a spectacle. It was fine. I could handle it. I'd rather these whispers and stares from curious strangers than the ones I would've gotten had I returned to my old school.

I shuddered internally at the mere thought of that.

And then I spotted tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum at the front of the dugout. They looked the same as before, just in their PE uniform. It was such a shame they were such dickheads because they weren't unattractive— on the outside. Not that I was interested in anything romantic. I'd been through a lot. I just wanted to figure out this whole magic thing and do a little self-discovery.

"Take the field, little bitch, so I can run you over," Mr. Long Hair snarled at me as I approached the open gate beside the dugout that led to the field.

A few students gasped and looked at me.

I looked over and met his beady stare, then rubbed my throat and faked a cough. I smiled. "That worked so well last time."

His buddy, Mr. Buzz-cut, slammed his glove into the chain-link fence around the dugout and growled like a junkyard dog. "Go fuck yourself?—"

"Again, we've been over this. " I stopped just in front of him so I could hold his stare when I said, "Fuck me yourself, coward."

There were gasps and snickers in the dugout, but I ignored them.

"You have no idea who you're messing with." Mr. Buzz-cut leaned forward. "You don't know who we are."

"Really? The bruised throat and busted nose suggest otherwise." I turned to walk backwards. "But it was so nice meeting you."

I honestly had no idea what had come over me. Bullies were the worst, I never buckled to them, but I never antagonized them from the jump. I'd been in detention many times for a fistfight in school because they chose to pick on someone in front of me. My aunt usually lectured me about how learning martial arts wasn't so I could get in fights at school . . . but Uncle Kyle always defended me. Bullies deserved what they got, and if my training kept one kid from getting beat up and humiliated, then it was worth it. Actually, that was the only thing my aunt and uncle ever really argued about. She preferred verbal confrontations while my uncle insisted knuckles had to get bloody sometimes. I liked to dance on the line between both.

If these two dipshits were as aggressively violent as they appeared—to a new guy in town who was half their size—then I had no problem with my attitude. Or perhaps what happened in that frat house changed me a little. Perhaps a little aggressive, preemptive self-defense was just who I was now, because maybe a small part of me wondered if I could have prevented that night from happening. Don't think about that right now, Frankie. That's the past. Focus on now.

" Ah, Miss Proctor, come on out here," Coach Andrews shouted from the mound. "You're with the away team on the field."

Is that a good thing or bad thing? Because my two new besties were definitely going to want my head after my mouth just now. But I held my head high and my shoulders back as I marched out to the pitcher's mound. I took a quick glance around the field and noticed every other position on the field was taken. Butterflies danced in my stomach as hope flared. I was a pitcher ever since I was in little league. Sure, once I went to high school I switched mostly to softball because that's what girls play, but the pitcher's mound was a comfort zone for me.

Wait, where's Archie? She said he was on the away team.

"All right everyone, this is Frankie Proctor. She's new to town and therefore new to our school, but we're not gonna make a big deal about this. She's just going to jump in right where we are." Coach Andrews looked to me, though her mirror red sunglasses meant I couldn't see her eyes. But I had to give her props for the head-to-toe outfit coordination. Even her New Balance sneakers were white and red. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice so she was only talking to me. "Sorry to drop you in the deep end, kid?—"

"Nah, I prefer it this way. No fuss. Just tell me where you want me and stuff."

She nodded. "Cool. So, we're playing baseball this week and next. We started last week. Rotating everyone around to different positions. Have you ever played baseball? Or softball?"

I smirked. "Varsity softball team. State champs last two years."

Her eyebrows shot up over her sunglasses. "No shit? Look at that. What position do you play?"

"I've been a pitcher since I was five in little league." I held my hand out for the baseball. "Obviously, I pitch underhand for softball, but I can throw overhand like the boys. Which would you prefer?"

She shrugged and placed the ball in my hand, then held the glove out for me. "Whichever. Have fun with it. But try to take it easy on most of them. They're not athletes like you."

I arched one eyebrow. "Except for two of them, right?"

"Gee, I don't know who you might be talking about." She grinned and backed away with a wink. "Let's play ball."

I grinned and tossed the ball up in the air a few times. My chest felt suddenly lighter. I hadn't even realized I'd been feeling as much pressure as I had been, but at least for now, I was in a comfort zone on the mound. When I looked up to the catcher, I found Archie crouched behind the plate. The catcher's gear overpowered him a little, but he didn't seem to mind. He waved at me, so I waved back. As I put the glove on, I glanced around the field behind me with a smile and a wave.

"All right, first up to bat," Coach Andrews called out. "Tomás, let's go."

I turned to face the plate. "You good, Archie?"

Through the cage of his helmet, I saw him grin. "I can take it. Don't hold back!"

The dude—Tomás, as she called him—glanced back and forth between me and Archie, then just shook his head. With a smirk, but not an asshole one, he nodded to me. His dark eyes sparkled like he hadn't a worry in the world. "You heard him, Pink. Don't hold back."

After one strike and two balls, he crushed my fourth pitch straight into left field. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up as he ran to first base. By the time the shortstop had the ball, Tomás had made it to second base. He winked at me.

"Claire, you're up." Coach sighed. "Y'all, I shouldn't have to call out each name. Know your order and be on deck for your turn at bat."

The entire dugout grumbled.

A brunette with a face full of freckles skipped up to the plate. "You can hold back," she said with a sheepish smile.

I chuckled and gave her two easy, slow pitches in a row. She swung and hit the second. The ball hit the ground and rolled to the second baseman—who looked to first base, then shrugged and tossed the ball back to me. I was taking it easy with my pitches. No one wanted me to show up here and strike everyone out. This was PE, and most of these students didn't want to be out here at all. I'd already made an aggressive first impression on tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, and anyone else who was listening in the dugout, so I wanted to try and be nice. I was the new girl, after all.

"Jacob, you're on deck," Coach Andrews yelled out as a pretty blonde girl stepped up to the plate. "Quit talking and be ready."

I glanced over to the dugout as Mr. Long Hair walked out with a bat in his hand. Ah, so your name is Jacob. He narrowed those beady brown eyes at me. I just chuckled and turned back to the plate as the next batter got ready. She wore her platinum blonde hair in pigtail, fishtail braids. Despite the color of her hair, her eyebrows were pitch-black, and the right one had gold stud piercings that matched the gold hoop on her nostril. She adjusted her helmet, and my gaze landed on her long coffin-shaped nails that were painted a matte black. Then she gripped the bat and held it up and my jaw dropped. She had the coolest tattoo made of swirling black lines all the way down her right arm and covered even her fingers. On the back of her right hand was a yellow crystal tattoo. I wanted to get a closer look, but now was not the time.

"C'mon, Jo, crush it!" another girl yelled from the dugout, unknowingly pulling me out of my girl-crush moment.

Jo looked cool as fuck. I already wanted to be her friend, and I found myself secretly hoping she was a witch. I got in position and met her stare. When she nodded, I nodded back and then pitched a nice, straight and easy fastball. Nothing too fast. This was still a warm-up for someone who'd been in a coma for months and hadn't thrown a single baseball until today. Jo narrowed her dark eyes that were almost solid black, then swung her bat, crushing the pitch and grounding the ball toward the third baseman. The red-haired girl playing third base caught it, touched the base to send Tomás back to the dugout, then threw the ball to second base. Unfortunately, that dude missed the catch. When he finally tossed it back to me, we had the brunette girl on second base, and Jo on first.

Jacob didn't waste any time getting up to the plate or running his mouth. His long hair wasn't tied back or anything. For some reason, that always bothered me. Teachers always made a big deal about us girls having to tie our hair back for PE, but boys with long hair never got the same harassment. It didn't help me feel less antagonistic toward Jacob.

"Like what you see?"

I gagged dramatically. "I was just wondering if you needed a scrunchie for that rat's nest you call hair."

It was kind of a dirty move, but I didn't wait for him to be ready, I just pitched the ball as fast as I could. It shot straight into Archie's glove with a thud while Jacob just watched. He never got a chance to swing.

"Strike one," I said with a chuckle.

"You bitch. I wasn't ready?—"

"If you're at the plate, you're ready to bat," Coach yelled out. "We've been over this. Eyes on the ball at all times."

" Are you ready, princess? " I said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm going to throw it now. Try to swing this time."

"Eat paint," he snapped.

My second pitch was just as fast and just as clean. He swung, but the ball was already in Archie's catcher's mitt before the bat swept over the plate. I held two fingers up.

"That means strike two," Archie whisper-shouted. "Not a peace sign."

Jacob kicked red clay at Archie, which earned him a scolding from coach. Again. He snarled at me, so I simply rubbed my throat. His whole face turned as red as his shorts. I could've struck him out. He was so enraged it wouldn't have taken that tricky of a pitch for him to miss, but I decided on a different method of aggression for him, especially as he was mumbling vulgar insults in my direction.

"Jacob, language, " Coach Andrews snapped.

"Were those too fast, princess?" I grinned at him. "Here, maybe you can hit this one."

I changed my position and gave him a mediocre speed underhanded softball pitch. It was practically walking to the plate it was so slow. I could've run up and hit it. I just grinned and wagged my eyebrows as he cursed me out. The bat made a pretty ding sound when he finally hit the ball. Naturally, it flew way out into the outfield where the boy with glasses was not even paying attention.

Jacob made a big show of tossing his bat toward the dugout as he gloated. "See that?"

"Everyone saw that little league pitch." I clapped my hands really slowly. "Too bad you're about to be out."

"What?" He looked toward first base and cursed before he had to full-out face-first dive to touch it before the player caught the ball.

"You deserved that, Jacob. Keep your head in the game," Coach Andrews shouted, then blew her whistle. "Madge, batter up."

I looked up, then did a double take. Madge was a girl who looked like she jumped off the front cover of Vogue magazine. She had to be five-foot-nine with legs for days that were on full display as she'd rolled up her burgundy shorts practically to her ass. She had short black hair that hung straight to her jaw with a sharp edge to them. Her bold red lipstick was as flawless as the fashionista glam red eyeshadow. This girl was flawless. I had to shake myself back into focus. It wasn't until she stepped up to the plate that I realized she had the same exact tattoo covering her right arm as Jo had, yellow crystal and all. But that made sense. Those two cool girls had to be besties.

Note to self: When Elizabeth gets back, get badass bestie tattoos.

Madge raised one red, stiletto-shaped nail in the air. "Question for clarification, Coach?—"

"You just have to hit the damn ball, Madge." Coach laughed and shook her head. "I don't even care if you get on base. Hust hit the ball this time, okay?"

Madge gave her a glorious grin, then popped her helmet on. She turned hazel eyes on me. "Hey, Pink, gimme something I can hit so I can go back to the shade, ‘kay?"

I chuckled. "What would you like?"

She pursed those red lips. "One of those slow underhand easy pitches you gave princess."

Jacob shouted another obscenity.

Good, so the other students had noticed my pettiness. I nodded. "Coming right up."

I gave her the exact pitch I gave Jacob, but she just missed it. She groaned. "I'll get it, Coach. I'll hit the damn ball."

"Hey, Madge?"

"Just give it to me again. I can do this."

"Yeah, just lower your grip on the bat. Your hands are too high. That's why you missed." I waited as she did as I said and then looked back to me. "Perfect. Hold on tight and swing like that ball is Jacob."

Coach Andrews snorted. " Frankie. "

Madge was grinning like a madwoman. I loved it. I now needed to be friends with her and Jo. Just like she asked, I gave her the exact same pitch, except this time she got a piece of it. The ball flew over my head, then bounced right where the second baseman was supposed to be. That guy hobbled over to the ball, but just as he caught it, Jacob shoved him out of the way.

Coach Andrews blew her whistle. "Jacob, one more and you're going to the Dean's office. Hear me?"

Jacob snarled and stayed on second base. He glared at me. I winked. That brunette girl jogged across home plate, then hurried toward the dugout . . . right past Madge who was walking to first base.

"Oh, I hope no one gets me out," she yelled dramatically and slowed her pace.

The second baseman tossed the ball to the first baseman. Madge was out. She gave a dramatic bow, then giggled and bounced off to the dugout. "Sorry, Jo, slay for both of us!"

"Aaron, let's go." Coach was still shaking her head at Madge. "Behave yourself."

Ah, the cowardly lion is named Aaron. What an insult to the name Aaron. But I kept my mouth shut because I always matched energies. So if Aaron wanted to be a dickwad, then I'd be one right back. It was up to him. I merely stood ready to pitch.

And then Aaron sauntered straight up to the plate and pushed Archie. "Back up, Tinkerbell."

I rolled my eyes at the exact same time Archie did. Archie was tough. That much was already obvious. It made my heart sick to wonder why he was so tough. He was probably bullied relentlessly. Guys seemed to get some sick joy out of picking on the short guys, as if their height was their fault. Then again, the mind of a bully was a vapid wasteland. I took a deep breath to calm myself, but then Aaron took a practice swing and the wooden bat smacked Archie in the back of the helmet.

"Oops, accident." Aaron laughed. He turned those hazel eyes on me. "Don't break a nail."

I wound up and delivered. He swung about six inches too high, and he'd swung so hard that when he missed the ball, he spun all the way around and stumbled into Archie.

"Strike one!" Archie shouted.

Aaron turned and slammed his bat into Archie's chest, who lifted off his feet and then slammed into the clay on his back with a crunch. He leaned over him. "Say it again, Tinkerbell?—"

"Strike one." Archie chuckled.

"You son of a?—"

"Aaron, you'll go to the Dean with Jacob. Don't push it."

Jacob was behind me on second. Jo was on Third. Archie met my stare and nodded. I grinned. There were some instances when showing off was just the appropriate thing to do . This was one of those instances. Bullies deserved no mercy. I had one hell of a fast pitch in softball, but it was even faster in baseball. Not that I was anything compared to the shit in the pros, but neither was this jackass. I held Aaron's glare and took a deep breath, then with every ounce of strength I had inside of me, I aimed that ball right at him. It tingled against my fingertips as it left my hand. It was by far the fastest pitch I'd thrown today, but right before it got to the plate, little blue flames wrapped around the ball and it curved. That wasn't supposed to happen. That was definitely magic. I tried to keep my expression blank. That'd never happened to me before. I was going to have to be careful with it.

"Strike two!" Archie grinned.

"Frankie, maybe give him something he can hit? Quarterback queen here ain't used to hitting things." Coach chuckled. "Though that was beautiful."

Aaron's face was redder than a stoplight.

I gave him a straight, right down the lane pitch any rookie with athletic skill could hit. I watched it fly right toward the plate, and I rolled to the balls of my feet, ready to move if his hit came anywhere near me. Just as expected, he whacked the shit out of the ball and sent it soaring right for the shortstop. A cocky grin spread across his face. But I wasn't a rookie either. One easy little jump to the right and I snagged the ball right out of the air. Without missing a beat, I spun on my toes and looked to the second baseman. Jacob had started running to third and was sprinting back for second, just a few steps away. I could've easily thrown the ball to my own teammate and got Jacob out, but I was feeling too petty.

Instead, I chucked the ball right into the side of Jacob's foot.

He screamed out as he flew forward.

The second baseman plucked the ball off the ground and tagged the base a split second before Jacob's face crashed into the red clay and his feet hit the back of his own head like a scorpion's tail.

"You're out!" Coach shouted from across the field. "Nice play?—"

"You little bitch!"

I turned just in time to watch Aaron charging the pitcher's mound. Everything slipped into slow motion, yet it happened so fast. In my peripheral vision I watched Jacob leap to his feet and charge for me like a raging bull. A plan formed in my mind. I kept Jacob in my peripheral view but focused my attention on Aaron. Coach sprinted for us, but she'd never make it. His entire team was running to empty from the dugout and rush to the field. My own teammates hurried over. Archie ran like a little tank for the mound.

"Come on, coward," I shouted and slowly took a step back, right into Jacob's oncoming path. "Put your money where your mouth is!"

Aaron pushed off the ground and dove in the air to tackle me. I waited until the last second, then jumped backwards— and the two bullies collided mid-air. There was a crunch, then they hit the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"OH!" the entire class yelled.

Aaron and Jacob cursed as they rolled in the grass, shoving at each other to try and get up. Coach Andrews was approaching fast, blowing her whistle like a freight train. Her face was red with rage.

I cackled and bounced on my toes, then leaned down to pour salt to the wound. " You done messed up, Ay-ay-ron!"

He lunged from the ground and tackled me. We crashed onto the grass with him bellowing like a deranged lunatic. This six- foot-tall guy just tackled a five-foot-four female half his body weight. It wasn't a good look for him, and that made me laugh. I pushed at his shoulders. Blue flames flickered beneath my palms and then he flew head over heels onto the grass. Jacob charged for me, so I swung my leg up and kicked him in the chest. He staggered backwards a few feet and then a small person dressed in catcher's gear tackled him from the side, taking him down to the ground. Archie! Hell yes!

I jumped up. "C'mon, princess, you can do better than—" I cut myself off with a fake choke.

Aaron grabbed Archie by the back of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. But Archie was a fighter. He threw his leg back and kicked Aaron in the side of the knee. Aaron shrieked and both of them went down with Aaron pinning Archie's small body beneath him. Jacob lunged for me again, so I thrust my arm out, slamming the bottom of my palm right into his nose. He screeched and dropped to his knees, gripping his nose as blood was already gushing.

"ENOUGH!" Coach Andrews screamed. She pulled Aaron off of Archie, then spun on all four of us with wild blue eyes that were no longer hidden behind sunglasses. "THE OFFICE! NOW! ALL FOUR OF YOU!"

I sighed. There were worse ways to start at a new school. At least I'd have something to tell my aunt and uncle when I got home. I cleared my throat. "Sorry, Coach, they had it coming?—"

"Save it for the Dean, Miss Proctor," she snapped. "And Archie, what were you doing?"

He threw his helmet off and grinned up at her. "Couldn't let her be in that fight alone."

Coach screamed in frustration. "NO TALKING! JUST MOVE!"

Both of the bullies did, in fact, run their mouths. They were bitching and complaining, literally pointing fingers at me. Coach was basically pushing them off the baseball field.

I helped Archie back onto his feet. "Thanks for the backup."

"Figured I owed you one." He shrugged. "C'mon, let's go before we get in more trouble."

When I looked up, most of the class was laughing or openly gawking. But not all of them. There were about a dozen, give or take, who all huddled together and watched me with narrowed eyes. Not us. Me. They watched me. I felt that tingle in the air like when I'd first seen Archie walking in the hall. Those kids were witches, and I wasn't so sure they were happy with me fighting with two of their friends. My aunt and uncle insisted arcana watched out for each other, but I wondered belatedly if that would instantly extend to the new girl, especially when I'd just accidentally used magic on Aaron, which had probably looked intentional.

"CLASS DISMISSED!" Coach shouted. "FRANKIE. ARCHIE. NOW."

We raced after her, pausing inside the gym only to get the catcher's gear off of Archie. Coach Andrews stood at the glass doors with her hands on her hips and her glare laser-focused on Aaron and Jacob.

"Maybe my first day will be a short one," I said with a chuckle.

"I've never been suspended," Archie said with a frown. Then he shrugged. "Could be fun."

"NOW!"

We scurried to catch up with Coach, but as soon as we got close, she spun on her toes and marched forward. Aaron and Jacob leapt into a brisk pace, like they wanted to remain out of her reach. Archie and I were silent as we followed them up the sidewalk and back inside that main building where the four of us had previously been acquainted. Except this time, we made a sharp left turn the second we passed through the doors. We stomped down the quiet hall to a little cul-de-sac of offices.

"Miss Proctor. Mr. Mann. Sit. Now." Coach pushed open the first door on the left and gestured inside. "Stay here until he gets back."

She didn't wait for us to sit before she turned and all but shoved Aaron and Jacob through the glass door opposite of us. They dropped into the chairs that sat across from a woman with cat-eye glasses and a sharp navy-blue suit. Coach walked over and stood between both of the bullies like she did not trust them for one second.

"Who's that lady?"

"Principal." Archie frowned. "I forgot her name. We call her Mrs. O though. She's cool . . . most of the time."

I nodded. "And who's office are we in?"

"Mr. Barrett. The Dean." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Not cool most of the time."

"This should be fun."

Movement in my peripheral vision made me jump, but it was just a skinny, frail-looking middle-aged man with silver hair and matching glasses perched on his narrow nose. He glanced into the Principal's office as he shut the office door behind him. With a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, he walked over and sat in his chair across from us. He cleared his throat and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. "I just love Mondays. My two new students have gotten in an all-out brawl on the baseball field."

I licked my lips. "Mr. Barrett, if I may, I can explain?—"

"You may not," he snapped. "You were in a fight in the hall between classes and then another not even an hour later? We do not accept this kind of behavior at Gulf Shores High School."

"But, Mr. Barrett, she was just defending me?—"

"From the pitcher's mound, Archibald?"

The door swung open behind us, making all three of us jump. I frowned as three girls walked in with their heads held high. At first, I was too busy reveling in that electric tingle in the air that meant they were witches. It was such a new sensation. It reminded me of the first time I saw snow and just wanted to stand outside to feel the coldness on my skin. The girl on the far left had beautiful brown skin and big yellow eyes . . . and my backpack. I frowned and looked to the other girl with gray eyes and curly black hair and found her also holding a backpack.

The girl in the middle with shoulder-length wavy brown hair and light-brown eyes stepped forward and held her hand up. A gold chain dropped from her palm. At the bottom was a gold circle with a five-pointed star inside of it—a pentacle, as I'd learned. "We're here for them ."