Work In Progress – Magic High 2
Wondering what I’ve been writing lately? Well here’s a short unedited excerpt. Yup, Tab’s back for some more high school drama with a magical twist.
Wham. The book hit my desk so hard it caused the paper of my scribbler to flip over to a page of embarrassing doodles of hearts and the name Tabetha Kane written again and again.
And… yep. Eric was looking. The way his shoulders shook from restrained laughter was a total giveaway.
“We need to do this,” Eleanor said.
I scrambled to flip the note book closed, or at least to a less embarrassing page. I mean really, there has got to be a better page in here somewhere. Or not.
The only safe place for it is shoved into my backpack.
“Do what?” I ask. “Wake the dead by slamming books on their graves?”
“What?” Clueless as ever, Eleanor sits backward on the seat in front of me so she can face me. “I’m talking about yearbooks. I’ve been looking through Eric’s old one–”
“You stole my yearbook?” Eric made a grab for the book but Eleanor moved faster. “I was wondering where it went.”
“Whatever.” She tucked the book under her arm, safely out of Eric’s reach. “The point is, we need to make a yearbook. But you know, for this year. Not 400 years ago or whenever Eric’s is from.”
My entire body quakes at the new voice, and not in a good way. Liz. I hadn’t noticed her take her seat one row back and to the left of me. I wonder where her usual entourage is. Usually there’s no way she could sneak into a room without someone giving her away.
“Aren’t those like totally pointless now,” Liz continued even though none of us encouraged her to keep talking.
I miss the days when I only had two classes with her, even if they were computer and gym. Thank god they’re both done for the season. Now that taping for the show is in full swing, the cast are forced into almost all of the same classes together. Except our one magic class. Eleanor and I are alone in that one.
Apparently being stuck together is better drama for the show.
Magic High. I still can’t believe Dad turned my life into a reality television show. What parent does that. Other than mine, I mean.
“No one does yearbooks anymore.”
Oh no. I can’t believe it. I actually agree with Liz for once. And I’m about to admit it out loud