Miss Mabel's School for Girls by Katie Cross Page A

sigh. “Tricky.”
    Stray whispers from the first-years next to me filled the silence. 
    “Like a savage! Who runs through the forest in their bare feet?”
    “Well, she did win, didn’t she?” Jackie’s voice pointed out. “Who cares if she was wearing shoes or not?”
    “She’s certainly no lady.”
    “They’re afraid of you,” Leda said, motioning with a jerk of her head to the other end of the table. “Not just because you were barefoot in that bitter cold.”
    “I didn’t walk barefoot,” I said. “I ran barefoot. There’s a difference. Walking is colder.”
    Leda shrugged. “All the same. They think you’re a little, you know–” She made a twirly motion in the air with her finger.
    “Oh?” I lifted an eyebrow. “They are easy sheep to control, aren’t they?”
    “Yes,” Leda said, taking my comment too seriously, as she often did. “Well, they may have forgiven running barefoot due to the stress of the match. But now they don’t believe that you’re actually a first-year because of your big display last night.”
    “Right,” I said. “A beautiful display of magic. That’s something to distrust at a Network school.”
    Leda agreed with a nod. “It is when you’re an inexperienced first-year. But don’t worry. They won’t say anything to your face. Camille called them off before you came down.”
    “Saying it to my face would just be horrible,” I muttered. “It’s so much easier to bear behind my back.”
    Camille joined the conversation, grateful for any reason to not do her homework. “Leda’s right. You freaked them out, even if most of the girls liked the whirling butterfly thing.”
    “Thanks. I’m feeling so much better about my new life here now that I know the entire school is afraid of me.”
    “Oh no!” Camille cried, grabbing one of my hands. “Leda and I still like you.”
    A bleak outlook, to be sure. I couldn’t help noticing that Leda didn’t chime in with agreement. Making friends was hardly my purpose for attending Miss Mabel’s, so I smiled to thank her and changed the subject.
    “What’s for breakfast?” I asked.
    “Great choice, by the way,” Leda said, closing the book Justice in the Five Networks and stuffing it into a bag at her feet, not ready to let the subject drop. “Taking all the butterflies in order to find the one, I mean.”
    “I liked the glitter at the end!” Camille cried. She fluffed her hair with a hand and watched a few remaining sparkles fall out. “I think I still have some in here. It’ll probably be in there for decades.”
    “Porridge again?” I asked, looking over the sea of heads, desperate to stop talking about the Competition. “We had it yesterday though, didn’t we? I hope there’s eggs today. I’m starving.” 
    “Elana did a stunning spell and beat out Jade,” Leda said, “Priscilla won over Stephany because she transformed a few dead leaves into a companion butterfly, then snatched hers when it came to investigate. At any rate, the three of you are advancing to the next round. Should be interesting.”
    “Yes,” I echoed in a hollow tone, giving up. “Interesting indeed.”
    Brutish. Barbaric. All kinds of words came to my mind in place of interesting . Elana’s determination to keep going despite her sprained ankle came back to me, a stark reminder that I wasn’t the only one with something to lose. I didn’t relish the thought of facing Priscilla, and had been entertaining the hope that she’d tripped on a branch and knocked herself out for a week.
    “How’s Michelle?” I asked.
    Camille’s face scrunched.
    “She didn’t come down to help with breakfast this morning. At least I didn’t see her with Rebecca and Miss Celia.”
    “Probably embarrassed to lose to a first-year,” Leda said. “And a second-year, for that matter. She came in right after you. I’d be embarrassed.”
    Yes, except you don’t really have emotions, do you?
    “Will she be okay?” I asked instead, giving