The school year at Model High School in Rome, GA started Thursday Aug 1, 2019. Diane arrived a week late (Thursday Aug 8). The clothes she wore looked like something she got at Goodwill when she first arrived. Blue jeans a bit worn and a blue jean looking blue shirt. She walked with a limp and looked like she had been in a bad accident recently. But that wasn’t what doomed her to the life of a social pariah. She arrived in a salvage yard truck to be dropped off by her father. Her father wouldn’t let her just get out and walk. No, she had to live through the embarrassment of being dropped off right in front of the main entrance.

Oddly enough she was all smiles. But he time it took was plenty for the local mean girls to get ready with their smartphones to take a video of her getting out. If she noticed she paid it no mind. But her fame - or perhaps infamy - spread by the next day. A video short of her showed up on Facebook with a caption. Junkyard Jane.

It didn’t stop there. She had dropped off a guitar case in the music department - so she wouldn’t have to carry it everywhere. By midday Friday a new video of her opening her guitar case to find her guitar covered with trash had surfaced. This time she was less amused. She had stripped down the guitar, removing the strings completely so she could get the muck out of the body of the guitar. But even with her best efforts the guitar now stank.

Very uncool.

The teacher was livid. Diane shook her head quietly and told him she didn’t think it was anyone in his class. Karma had a way of catching up with people. She said she’d try to fix it at home.

She arrived in Environmental Science carrying her stinky guitar. The teacher looked around trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. She pointed at her guitar and quietly asked if she could set it up at the front near the door. That was when a janitor arrived with some car fresheners. Diane smiled and thanked him and looped one over the neck of the guitar and dumped the rest around the guitar itself. Then she closed the case. It looked like she was closing a casket. She didn’t explain the smell.

Then the teacher started asking for students to turn in assignments, excluding Diane. But Diane just smiled and handed in a small stack - the past week’s work. “Only a week. And I’ll be fine for the test Monday. I’m caught up.” Her father arrived with the salvage truck to pick up Diane’s guitar to take it home.

And that was Diane. No looks of desperation. Mildly amused annoyance. Scheming notions of revenge on the people bullying her - and maybe a little pity for them if she decided to act on them. They were way out of their league. She had expected the social media coverage.

************

sc02.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1ongTJVXXXXb6Xp…
payless.com/on/demandware.static/-/Si…
d254andzyoxz3f.cloudfront.net/vintage… (You will have to imagine the dark blue. This one is greener than hers, but she does have the dump truck mod.)

Monday Aug 12, 2019

She showed up Monday dressed in slender denim overalls and a white T shirt and denim jacket, cute black boots, hair styled, manicured, probably pedicured. She parked a blue vintage 1946 Dodge pickup, its permit already displayed. A temporary sticker was proudly displayed in the rear window - low enough that it couldn’t block her view - that simply said Go Green. Recycle. It was quite the transformation. It was as if, to her, the whole cyberbullying issue was a non issue. She carried her guitar with her. The case was new. This one had a biometric thumbprint lock.

She walked right past the kids who had taken the video on the previous Thursday and smiled and winked at the head cheerleader’s boyfriend whose eyes tracked Diane’s movements. He had been one of the two boys that dumped trash in her guitar case. The head cheerleader angry - though whether she was madder at Diane or her boyfriend was a good question.

“Slut!” the girl called Diane out.

Diane stopped in her tracks, turned and looked at the other girl. “Is that really the best you could come up with? How about … you soulless soul-sucking skank? Soulless because you sold yours long ago. Soul-sucking because you need to feed off your so called friends to make up for the one you sold. Skank because …. Well …”

“HEY! YOU TWO!” It was the school security. His voice stopped the cat fight that was about to erupt in the parking lot before it happened.

**********************

Diane was spotted again until Lunch. Diane had found the visit to the Dean’s office amusing. Unfortunately for the the school, neither girl would talk. And the simple fact that security had no idea what had led up to the near confrontation before interrupting it they couldn’t even justify Detention.

The incident had, however, made Diane a pariah. She found herself sitting alone at lunch with multiple tupperware type containers and a plastic drink bottle such as a jogger would use. The drink bottle contained a rich dark hot tea. One of the other containers had a thick soup in it - chicken gumbo. Another had some sort of salad with all sorts of unidentifiable ingredients. The last container was quartered red potatoes. She was smiling as she enjoyed her piping hot meal.

At another table, the cheerleader and her friends were talking. Every now and then one would look over at Diane.

It was an average Monday- or at least, what passed for an average Monday in Rome's notoriously catty high school. Gossip spread faster than the speed of light, flipping Einstein the bird the whole way. The overwhelming topic du jour? Why, none other than Diane Matthews, already christened Junkyard Jane for her utter lack of style. Not that Samantha gave a damn about her social standing- she knew she'd never be a member of the in crowd, and that suited her just fine.

Buying a BLT for herself, she plopped down next to the ostracized girl, casting a dirty look towards the Queen Beeyotch and her coterie of hangers-on. "Don't worry about Sarah, she's going nowhere. Just a loser trying on boys until she finds one that fits." Samantha put her hand out for a friendly shake. "Us misfits need to stick together. I'm Samantha, but please, call me Sam."

A weight on her chest and a purring sound pulled her from the dream she had been enjoying and Ash opened her eyes with a groan. Ripley sat on her chest purring loudly, butt facing Ash's face, and claws flexing against her t shirt. Ash pushed her off with a murmured grumble and sat up reaching for her phone. The old battered smart phone, with the cracked screen and scratched metal, showed the time and Ash grumbled some more. Ten minutes before her alarm was due to go off, she wondered why she bothered setting an alarm as her cats were pretty good alarm clocks all on their own. Lola sat by the bed let out a plaintiff meow and Ash stood and stretched.

"I'm up." She muttered to the cat."Chill."

Ten minutes later she was downstairs cleaning up the many beer bottles and takeaway rubbish from around the unconscious form of her father. He had drank himself to sleep on the sofa again and still wore the same clothes he had worn for the last two days and Ash shook her head and sighed. Knowing from experience that he wouldn't thank her if she woke him she left him snoring on the sofa and finished her chores before grabbing the stuff she would need for school. Her backpack was an ancient faded one with numerous holes in it, Ash couldn't remember the last time she had been able to buy anything new. Pretty much all of her clothes were patched, sewed and then patched again, she was just glad that holes and patches were somewhat in fashion. She shrugged into her battered leather jacket and left her long hair to fall loose, it hid her face when she wanted it to, and lef the house.

By lunch she was ready to crawl back into her bed and pretend the world didn't exist, her day seemed to be going from bad to worse. Anything that could go wrong seemed to be doing so and Ash was fed up. When she saw the "Junkyard Jane" video she felt sympathy for the new girl and reminded herself that there were worse things that could happen. After grabbing some lunch she scanned the cafeteria and spotted her close friend Samantha. She was sitting with the new girl, Ash wasn't surprised, Sam was a sucker for the hard luck cases. Though as she approached the table she had to admit that the new girl, Diane?, didn't look so junkyard anymore. She plonked her tray down on the table and slid into the seat next to Sam.

"Hey hun."She said to Sam and then grinned at Diane. "Hey new girl, grats on handling that video thing." She said in her typical blunt way, her english accent clear to all.

---

---

"Jessica! I'm not calling you again, you're going to be late for school!"

Jessica appeared a few moments later, running down the stairs and into the kitchen slightly breathless. "Sorry mom, I was feeding Fred."

Georgia Bowman shook her head and smiled fondly. "You and that parrot."

"Why couldn't you have a dog like normal people?" Ryan Bowman joked as he reached over and ruffled his sisters hair. She playfully smacked his and away and ignored his comment.

She wolfed down her breakfast and drank her herbal tea a bit too quickly burning her tongue in her haste, yet again she was running late after sleeping through her alarm again. She had never been very good at timekeeping and was frequently late for school, her friends knew that if she said five mins it usually meant twenty at least. The complete opposite of her friend Ash who never slept well and consequently always woke up before her alarm. Jessica grabbed her books and backpack, hugged her mother, lightly slapped her brothers head and then headed outside to her jeep.

It was lunchtime before she saw anything of her closest friends. Both Samantha and Ash were sitting at a table already but surprisingly they weren't alone. Jessica recognised the new girl, who wouldn't after that video had made her famous around the campus. She slid into the other spare seat between Ash and Diane.

"Where have you guys been all morning?" She asked Samantha and Ash. "I've been dying to tell you about Stacy Keeler. You will never guess what she's gone and done now!" She was referring to the resident rebel on campus. Stacy "stealer" Keeler was known for doing anything and everything she could to get into trouble. Her exploits had reached legendary status. "Oh hi, Diane right? I'm Jessica." Jessica spoke in her usual fast and bubbly tone.

“Diane.” Diane nodded politely at Sam, stabbing a few more potatoes and trying to scarf them down in between breaths. The girl ate like she was in boot camp. Misfit? Was she? Mmm .. maybe. Okay, it was fair enough. She looked down. Mom cooks great. Me, I burn water. Really. I set off all the smoke alarms in the house, turned the bottom of the pan literally glowing red hot and the meat I was preheating to ash.

Then in came Ash. “Video?” Diane looked confused. “Which one? Oh wait, you must mean Sarah’s thing. Yes, she started that. She made an alt account thinking she can’t get caught. I haven’t … handled it yet. Karma is a bitch. Her boyfriend, Martin, he and his friend are the ones who dumped the garbage in my guitar. I can prove it. Sarah knows it. I sort of blackmailed her before we went to see the Dean. I’m not done with any of them. But Karma takes time. Patience is everything.”

She paused. “Uhm … names … “ she pointed at Sam .. “Ssss .. don’t tell me. Sammm. Wait … Sam. I’m really bad with names. She looked at Ash. She shook her head trying to strain her memory. Finally she gave up. Truth was, Ash hadn’t said her name yet.

She turned to Jessica. “Jessica. You just said it. I need to write these down or I will never remember them.” She flipped her laptop open and booted it up in seconds. But unlocking it too a dual biometric security - thumbprint and retinal. She pulled a small digital camera out of her purse and stood up and snapped a quick shot, sat down and the image popped up on her screen. She tapped at the screen and the images separated. What looked like torn pieces of paper appeared at the bottom of each photo. Then she pulled out a stylus and started writing in calligraphy each name below the image.

“There, now I’ll never forget.”

She closed the photos down and the desktop came back up with a scene from the new Heather Daniels movie. Heather Daniels was the next JK Rowling and had written two out of three books of a trilogy. The first book had become a major hit. It was a fantasy tale about Earth being invaded by a fantasy realm in 1870. Earth began the war with no comprehension of real magic or how to fight it. In book one they were losing badly.

She shut the laptop down and put it away so she could finish eating. She glanced up between bites. “So .. St-t-t .. Keeler something. What happened?”

The hard wood floor was cold to the touch as he swung himself out of bed. Nightmares of burning cars and screams woke him up early, sweat drenching his blankets. The electronic clock on his dresser read 5:30 Am. A bit early, but he did have a job to do at the school. So he figured he would take a shower and maybe get something to eat. The school janitor had a ride along mower that blew a head gasket. Normally his shop teacher or the janitor fixes these things. However, troy offered to help fix it for extra credit and some community service hours. Anything to get him out of math and English really.

The staff agreed, and he was supposed to arrive at the school an hour early. He was only a 15-min drive from the school and didn’t mind getting up early. Making a couple fried eggs and potatoes, Troy quickly ate his breakfast and washed the dishes he used before taking a cold shower and headed out the door. Wearing his usual blue jeans with oil and grease stains and an old green t-shirt with a few small holes in it. His hair was a little messy and his short beard was a doing its own thing as usual.

The drive to the school was uneventful as always. A noticeable chill warned of the end of summer and the colder days to come. The next few hours flew by pretty quick. Troy put on his Grey coveralls with his name stitched into it, a gift from his aunt he keeps in his locker there. The shop teacher Mr. Wright was always informative with whatever task they were undertaking. Even had a beautiful vocabulary when things weren’t going his way. Then before he knew it the lawnmower was fixed and he had a short break before lunch.

Standing in line waiting for food the tall young man was still wearing his coveralls, but he at least washed his hands. His face was still covered in dirt with marks of oil and grease, his fingernails still had dirt under them, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. However, once he got to the first lunch lady she looked him over with a frown, “Troy. Why do you feel like you can’t wash your face off before getting into my chow line?” she had her hands on her hips and looked mildly annoyed.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll try to clean up better next time. But Mr. Wright and I got the lawn mower working again.” He answered her question with a smile. At least he had a good reputation with the staff here. Most of them were aware of his past and what he’s been through thanks to his aunt.

The older lady dropped her arms and sighed shaking her head, “Alright as long as you were helping him out I guess I can’t blame you for that.” She stopped and pointed her spatula at him, “but next time you better not come in here lookin like you just rolled around in an oil pan, ya hear.”

All he could do was smile as she started piling on food onto his plate, “Yes Ma’am.” Mashed potatoes, two small mystery meat fired steaks and some green beans. They were even kind enough to give him a little extra today. Turning around with his food in hand his eyes drifted over the cafeteria and the open tables. A few tables had open spots but didn’t seem to welcoming. The jocks and popular kid’s seemed to have conquered their own tables like usual but seemed to be staring at another table a little ways away. The occasional glares were enough to spark his protective instincts.

Finding where they were looking he could see a group of four girls a couple tables away. He recognized most of them but couldn’t remember their names other than phoenix, because of her red hair, which he was also aware wasn’t her name. He couldn’t remember if he gave the other’s nicknames. The one new girl he did hear about something about scrapyard Jane? That didn’t sound right. O well, Troy opted to sit at a table near the four where he could see them and the jocks.

While not staring at either table directly, he was well aware that the jocks were capable of violence against the opposite sex. Two weeks into his first year here he almost ended the star quarterback’s chances of a football career. Walking in on him being rough with his girlfriend at the time and stopping him, almost broke his arm. There wasn’t anything big that came of that discipline wise. Troy just now has a target on his back when it comes to the jocks and cheer leaders. However, that was old news for most of them. For now, Troy would spend his time eating and occasionally jotting something down in his notebook as he glanced at the two tables completely unaware of the crystal necklace that slipped out of his coveralls.

"Gee, what did Stacy do now? Bang a teacher? Sell meth?" Samantha rolled her eyes at the mere mention of Stacy- lately, the little hellion's antics had gone from "mayhem" to "criminal", but without any smoking guns, they couldn't throw her out. Such a shame.

Sam turned to Jessica and Ash. "Oh, hey. Nice to see the two of you. Club meeting this week?" She gave Diane a glance. "Yeah, we're part of the Occult Club. Actually, we're most of the Occult Club. It's not what most teenage girls are up to on Monday afternoons, but it's fun enough. If you've got an open mind, stop by room 232 after class today." She wasn't the kind of person to hide what she did, even if it got her glares from everyone else in the Deep South. They had permission to run it, and that was that. As she mentioned it, she realized that she had a strange, indescribable feeling- something she'd only felt when doing her little tricks with Ash and Jess. Could she really be... one of us?

“Occult club?” Diane looked dubious. “I wasn’t aware of an Occult club. I’m a little surprised the school would tolerate it - not that they could win a legal battle to have one. I mean, they have a club for Christian Athletes. And every club has to have a sponsor… Or is your club not exactly on the approved list?”

Diane was unlike these girls. She had never cast a ritual to unlock her power. She hadn’t even looked up a ritual. Oh she had read about Wicca. But she didn’t take it seriously. She half wondered if they did.

“What exactly do you mean by occult? Astrology? Alchemy? Spiritualism? Theosophy? Hermetics? New Age? Paganism? I mean, your group is small - small enough to be just a tiny coven. If it is just Wicca, why not call it that?” She glanced around. “Then again, Bible Belt. Still, the word Occult isn’t much better. Personally I think school is a horrible place to practice the Craft. I think you said, open mind. Wouldn’t a thousand unbelieving students put a damper on things?”

She glanced around the table at the other girls. Sam struck her as a crystal weenie or a groupie. Jessica seemed intelligent. She had seen the girl somewhere before. Oh! Yes. Boys. She had been hanging around the science building and had some of the more intelligent guys drooling. Diane experienced a moment of humor. She wondered if the girl had any idea. Ash, however, had a very different look to her. She was used to the sort of speech Diane had just given.

“Ash, you are Wiccan.” It wasn’t a guess. “Sorry for the patronizing attitude. And no, I am not. Honestly, I don’t really believe in magic. But I had done some very heavy research into magic. I even learned a few archaic language forms, like Middle Irish, a bit of Middle English, Latin, Greek, and such.” She looked thoughtful. “Actually, if you guys seriously know your stuff, I might be interested. But understand I’d be more the outsider looking in. If I say something wrong, correct me. Is the tall guy in your group? He’s wiccan too. The one likely taking the shop class.” She rolled her eyes in Troy’s direction. “The hungry looking one who looks like someone should find a Forever Home for and feed, scratch his belly or something.”

Ash rolled her eyes at the mention of Stacy Keeler, the girl was seriously bad news, and she was fed up of hearing about her. But she knew Jessica would insist on telling the story regardless, for someone as smart as her friend she loved to gossip an awful lot. The new girl Diane showed interest too but Ash couldn't blame her, it was always a good idea to know who to avoid in a new school and Stacy Keeler was definitely someone to avoid.

"Why don't they just expel her already, I don't care who her dad is." Ash said. "I'm so sick of rich kids like her getting away with everything."

Sam's words distracted her from her annoyance however when she suggested Diane should join their group. Ash looked Diane over thoughtfully there was something about her that nudged at Ash's senses and the girl recognised that Ash herself was a natural. She shrugged at Sam and Jessica. "She can come along if she wants, doesn't bother me. Though I'd rather you didn't tell anyone of the stuff you see, it's private and to be honest this lot don't need more shit to throw at me." She then glanced at Troy who was sitting at a table nearby. "I picked up on that about him." She agreed. "But he's not a member of our group."

---

---

Jessica grinned when both Sam and Diane showed interest in her mention of Stacy Keeler, Ash was her usual grumpy self about it but Jessica understood that it was personal for her. Ash had to struggle for everything in life whereas Stacy and others like her seemed to get whatever they wanted and got away with everything as well. Jessica felt a little guilty about that, seeing as she was technically one of the rich kids. She opened her mouth to tell them what she had heard when Sam asked about the club and about Diane joining them. She was a little surprised and hurt that Sam hadn't thought to ask her and Ash's opinions before inviting the new girl, they were in it together after all, but it was done now.

"Ummm sure you can join us." She said throwing a sharp look at Sam before smiling at Diane. "Oh you mean Troy? I didn't know that about him. You should have said something." She elbowed Ash gently in the ribs.

Diane really didn’t care for gossip. But the whole point of attending a public mainstream school was to not lose touch with real people. And that was probably the most attractive thing about Samantha. She was a regular girl - well, if you didn’t count the whole occult club thing. That was exactly typical. But it was those very atypical facts about a person that made them interesting.

Diane ignored Ash’s brief rant, though the words about rich kid stung. But that was a subject for a later conversation. Instead she concentrated on Ash’s concerns. “If I decide to write anything that relates to the group or might sound like you, or isn’t something I can attribute to a zillion other wiccans or get from some online sources, it will get an editor’s review by you. I just …

Diane frowned. “I am starting a Writing Club. It will have a discord sponsored by Heather Daniels.” Heather Daniels was quite possibly the next JK Rowling. The first book of her trilogy was, according to sources, being made into a movie. It was about some invasion of a Middle Earth type realm into Victorian Earth. The second book was out and already a best seller. It wasn’t her first trilogy. She had written another, but it hadn’t been as popular. “I like the stuff I write to have some authenticity.”

“You know, I’m not a member of your group. Only way to check someone out is to get to know them. Besides, I recognize him. He’s on a sort of hit list by the popular kids. But the feeling I get is that they are only telling one side of the story. I’ll be right back - probably. I am going to make the mistake of feeding the stray. I don’t know why Mom packs so much of this stuff in my lunch. Oh, where was that meeting? After school … right?” She scribbled the room number down.

Boudin
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Mom seemed to think she she needed way more food than she did. Just one of the boudin would have made a meal. And she had already had chicken gumbo and salvage yard salad. No telling what was in that. She walked over with the rubbermaid container half stuffed with boudin. Two of the giant things. Diane had broken off half of one for herself. They WERE good after all. She plopped down right in front of Troy.

“Hi. I don’t dare leave my laptop unattended for more than a few seconds, but I saw you working earlier and figured you might like what’s left of the boudin my Mom made. It’s sort of like Popeye’s Cajun rice stuffed in a sausage casing, but way better. The only downside is that people are jerks and if they watch you eat it, their minds go straight to the gutter. You might want to use a fork. She handed over a plastic one.

“Nice wrap by the way. Smokey quartz? I do some amateur wraps myself. Never wear them. Used to sell them at a flea market. Wiccan, or just a style thing?” She smiled and stood up. “Well, gotta get back to my laptop - before someone decides to spill garbage on it or throw a football at it.” She gave a nervous smile and stepped away. “Bon appetit.”

Diane realized she had been starting to fight a cold sweat. She hadn’t really spoken to a guy like that in over a year. Well, she had spoken to grown men - marines. And there had been some of the people she had met in Europe. But … She knew that Troy looked imposing. He was 6’5” and she got that many might have thought he could be some angry axe murderer. She saw … a big, scruffy, stray dog - who needed feeding.

As Diane went off to talk to Troy, Sam returned the glare to Jessica, with interest. "What are you giving me that look for, Jess? I asked her to join us for two reasons. One, we could really use the members, and it's not like we're the sort of club that can put up flyers."

Her voice dropped low, almost to a whisper, but the other girls would definitely be able to tell she was excited. "Second, and far more important, she's the real deal. I could sense it about her, and if I could, you sure could. I think she's like that girl in the new Star Wars movies- she's sitting on a boatload of power, she just doesn't know it yet. We owe it to her to help her realize that power, reach her true potential." Sam wore a Cheshire Cat grin as she finished, "I think she'll be a real boon to our little coven."

Eating his food rather quickly while jotting down a few things he overheard from the nearby conversation. He wasn’t trying to ease drop, but they weren’t exactly talking quietly or in code either. Jotting down a few things with his right hand while shoveling food into his mouth with the other. Before too long he was done with his food but still scribbling. Just random notes here and there. Occult, 233, Stacy, criminal, coven, Wicca, magic, stray dog, writing club, and Heather Daniels. He knew very well if he didn’t write this down it would be forgotten.

Then something surprising happened while finishing jotting down a few more things. The new girl came over to his table and sat down with a smile. She seemed slightly nervous, but he couldn’t make out why. She just sort of offered him some food asked him a question and left back to the other table before he could answer her with anything other than a curious look. He really needs to work on how other people perceive him. He doesn’t want to be unapproachable after all. She didn’t even give her name.

Then he suddenly jotted down all her question and worries, so he could answer them later. “Wiccan, or just a style thing?” was the question he wrote down. She seemed overly worried about her laptop, obviously it was precious to her. Expensive maybe or memories with no other copies. He was leaning more towards memories when his eyes settled back across the room. The popular kids were watching him and the other girls. Looking to the quarter back he gestured to his right shoulder and mouthed, “how’s your arm?” other than a few dirty looks and rude gestures he received nothing else in return.

However, he now had the girls offering in front of him. The foreign sausage smelled wonderful, and he hadn’t had too much in the way of southern foods. Forgoing the fork and just picking up the sausage with his hand he took one small inquisitive bite before devouring the sausage quickly. His high metabolism meant he was always warm and always hungry. At least that’s what the doctors said was the cause of him being always warm. He took a moment to let his food settle while taking a few more notes and tucking his necklace back under his clothes.

The truth was - her laptop was both expensive and heavily customized. She had had some serious help with the customization that would be tough - not impossible - to repeat. So she resumed her place at the table, looking back at Troy and ducked her head in a smile as he chowed down on the boudin. Mom’s cooking was great.

She had caught him saying something to the kids at the other table, but the angle was too oblique to tell what it was. But judging from the rude gestures and the indication Troy made to his arm she could guess what that was about. She smiled even broader. She knew she shouldn’t. Violence never solved anything. Right.

“Where were we? Oh right, enough shit being thrown at you. Yeah, I get that. But one should also be ready to handle what people try to throw at them…” Diane’s eyes were only semi focused, like she was somewhere o somewhen else…

The air became electric. They could feel it - all but Diane apparently. She seemed oblivious. Her awareness seemed to have stretched out to the whole room, maybe further. Then Ash and Troy saw it. Jess and Sam had their backs to the the source of the threat. The school’s quarterback was cocking back his arm to throw his football. His aim was clearly targeting Diane, who seemed to have started making a couple notes. Then almost as suddenly she smiled and the lid started to close on her laptop.

For Ash and Troy the scene unfolded in slow motion. The power. Raw, untapped potential. This was the Law of Three. Karma. It was one of the greater powers. But the way she was using it, noone unawakened would recognize it for what it was. And she didn’t even believe she had power. But it was unmistakable.

The football launched forward. It was Troy who had the better point of view who saw what was about to happen. The ball was gaining too much altitude. The guy had overcompensated for the mild injury to his arm and overthrown. But that wasn’t the best part. The corners of Diane’s lips quirked upwards as the lid on her laptop finished closing. Then her eyes started to widen in alarm as she spotted the incoming football.

Sam and Jess had the perfect seats to watch the finale. As he football sailed over their heads and the table they caught the eyes of Diane and Ash tracking the football. What neither saw was the teacher walking behind them with a tray of food. Bullseye. The football landed square in the center of the tray.

Then time resumed its normal course. Diane whirled about and stared. Then she smiled. “Well, I did warn them about Karma. Reap what you throw?” She spun back around. “So … 232 … right?” She glanced over at Troy and kneaded her right shoulder and grinned. Then she looked at Ash, blushing. She gave a puppy dog eye look. “He liked my Mom’s cooking. Oh … and I might have a better place for you to meet if you prefer privacy - like lots of acres. Maybe that is something for the weekend. It’s an old ranch. But I have permission from the owner to go camping or whatever.”

Diane was completely ignoring the scene of the teacher raising his voice to tell the quarterback to head to the Dean’s office.

+++++++++++++

Monday Aug 12, 2019
After School Room 232

(Holding up in case folks want to arrive first … or change up the location)

Sam was the first one to get to the club meeting. Not surprising, since she had class right next door to finish out the day. She pulled a few quartz crystals- nothing much, just a few specimens that wouldn't be out of place in a basic geology collection. Truth be told, she'd actually got them from a local hobby shop.

They technically didn't have a teacher, just someone who sat in the back of the room and graded papers. It was a good thing he never looked up until it was time to shoo them out the door- imagine what he might do if he actually paid attention to the supernatural shenanigans going on! Sam sighed as she looked at the door. It seemed the other girls were a little late, but that might just be due to hallway traffic.