Authors' Note: Well, here's chapter 30. Let's see if we can try and come up with a witty disclaimer. Wait, is this because I failed at writing a witty 'Lea and Cal Read Reviews?' No. Actually, it's because I see all the other authors with witty disclaimers and it makes me jealous. Let's use our combined brainpower to make an attempt at one. *Cal gets a constipated look* Thinking… thinking… thinking… okay, I can't do this. Well, after spending several hours racking our brains desperately to find a cooler way of expressing this, and coming to the revelation that disclaimers actually hold very little legal weight, we can end this little attempt by concluding that we do not, in fact, own the Sisters Grimm. Not having a wittydisclaimer about it just makes it even sadder. However, if we did own it… well, we think most of you have been reading our stuff long enough to know how that would go. On with the story!
When I woke up a few days later, there was an unexplainable feeling of gloom in the air. I went downstairs, trying to think what could be causing it. Maybe Sabrina and Daphne's fights had finally escalated into something more serious. Maybe Red had lost control.
"Mr. Canis," I said, "Did something happen?"
He stopped pouring his tea and looked at me curiously. "No. Why?"
"I just have this feeling that something… bad happened, or is going to happen."
He went back to pouring his tea. Oddly, he looked like he was trying to suppress a smirk. Very unusual for Mr. Canis. "Don't most teenagers feel that way about the first day of school?"
Oh, crap. I should've known this was coming. I'd bought school supplies a few days ago, and sent my transcripts over to Ferryport Landing High School. The date was marked off in huge letters on the calendar. But still. School. In the middle of what could escalate to another war. I sighed. It was my parents' main requirement for going to live in Ferryport Landing, so I guessed that it was go to school or go home. I ate my breakfast and got dressed.
I wasn't sure what to expect of my first day. I knew that most rural schools would be a lot more conservative than city schools, but then again, this was Ferryport Landing.
So it was a pretty big surprise when everyone came in looking completely normal. In my old school, people were much wilder when it came to clothes, wearing mixed styles, facial piercings and tattoos, and the kind of accessories that you could only get in New York City. Here, most people just wore jeans and T-shirts. It wasn't a bad change of scenery.
I met my homeroom teacher, Mrs. Jenkins. She was in her mid-forties, and was obsessed with Bruce Springsteen. Marvin and Robert were in the class, too, so I knew someone. Everyone kept staring at me, like my hair had turned purple or something. Remembering that I now lived in the same house as Puck, I tried checking it, but it wasn't really long enough to see. So I decided to break the ice by asking the class.
"My hair isn't purple, is it? Because my brother-in-law thinks it's funny to dye people's hair in their sleep."
They all stared for a second, like wait what? The new guy has a personality? Then, to my relief, most of them laughed.
The tall, dark-haired girl sitting behind me asked, "Your brother-in-law wouldn't by any chance be the dentist, would he?"
"No, he is."
"He gave me blue highlights once when I was getting my wisdom teeth pulled. My mom was so mad, but I liked them."
"Whoa, he does that at work, too? I thought it was only us!"
She grinned. "No, he's gotten everyone at one time or another. My name's Anna, by the way."
"I'm Basil." I introduced myself to a few other people. I met a guy named Arthur who was on the swim team and had blond hair that was turning green from chlorine. I talked to a short guy named Kevin. I also (briefly) had a conversation with a blond girl named Brynn. I don't usually judge from first impressions, but she was kind of a bitch.
The bell rang, and I went to first-period English. I'd heard that Alice in Wonderland was one of the English teachers here, so I was curious to find out if it was true. When I arrived, I found that it was true. 'Miss Glass' had blond hair, blue eyes, and a pretty but pale face. She was slowly writing on the board in big swirly letters.
"Hey, Basil!" called a voice. I looked, and it was Rose.
"Hey, Rose. You have this class too?"
"Yep. Come on, sit over here," she said, gesturing to the seat next to her. I noticed a lot of the guys giving me dirty looks.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so glad we're both in this class. I heard that the other sophomore English teacher is a complete lunatic. Like, worse than Miss Glass. But—" she looked around to see if Miss Glass was anywhere nearby, and then continued—"Miss Glass is a bit odd, though. She's really sweet and she's a good teacher, but apparently Wonderland has this weird effect on people that messes with your head."
"Well, the caterpillar was smoking a hookah."
Rose and I continued chatting until the second bell rang, officially beginning class. Miss Glass jumped a little, and giggled like a little girl when she realized that it was just the bell.
"Good Morning!" she said in a singsong voice. "My name is Miss Glass, and welcome to sophomore English." She went on, explaining how this year, we would be studying classical literature and its influence on modern times. She handed out textbooks and had us all introduce ourselves. Most people already knew each other, and I was the only exception. I didn't really mind, but it was weird having everyone stare at me. Back in the city, it took a lot to get stared at. Sure, a new student would get some second looks, but not this much.
Overall, Miss Glass was a pretty good teacher, but I got the feeling that she'd be one of those overenthusiastic types that get really, really caught up in the story. She also seemed to have a thing for fantasy books. And rainbows.
My next class was Health. Rose was in that class, too. Before we went into the class, Rose whispered to me, "I probably should warn you about Mrs. Fett. She's a drug dealer."
"How do you know this?"
She shrugged. "She has a criminal record. I read about her in my dad's files." I remembered how she'd told me that her family kept files on everyone in town. I thought it was a little creepy then. I still think it's creepy, but I realize now that it's kind of necessary. I also realize that Rose is unnaturally curious.
"Then why is she a health teacher?" I asked.
"Because of budget cuts. It was either cut the funding for a certified health teacher, or cut the funding for the teachers' coffee supply. The principal was going to cut the coffee, but then he realized that no teacher would ever work here unless they provided coffee."
"That's kind of stupid."
"It was, but the good thing is, she doesn't assign any homework."
"Oh. Well, I guess that's okay." Well, I guess that just because she sold drugs, it didn't necessarily mean that she would sell them to us.
The class itself was fairly ordinary. Mrs. Fett, an unnaturally orange, unnaturally blonde woman, had us all introduce ourselves. She gave out textbooks and sat us in alphabetical order. She didn't seem at all like what you'd expect a drug dealer to be, but I guess most don't.
I had Geometry after Health. I sat next to this guy called Bryce Wilkerson. I think that he may be the stupidest person that I have ever met. But he was really big, like 6'7". He's probably had to repeat the grade a few times. When the teacher, Mr. Rollins, asked him if he knew the name of an eight sided figure, he said, "You mean like a figure 8? I think it's an ice skating move."
"No, I mean the shape, Bryce."
"Cubes are three dimensional figures, Bryce. They have six sides."
"Like a dice?"
Mr. Rollins sighed. "A dice is a cube."
"So I was right, then!" The sad part was, he was serious.
The day went on. I think my Spanish teacher is an Everafter, although I'm not sure which one. I know that the Physics teacher, Ms. Pevensie, is actually Susan from The Chronicles of Narnia, but Daniella and Robert told me that she has no memory of Narnia and doesn't actually know why she's an Everafter. I felt sorry for her. To be immortal and alone without knowing why must be depressing.
When I got home, no one was there, which I thought was strange. There was a note on the kitchen table. It said,
If we aren't back by 1:00 AM, stir the cauldron in the mirror four times counterclockwise and seven times clockwise, then jab it three times. We are out looking for some potion ingredients and will be back later. DO NOT DO ANYTHING STUPID. DO NOT STIR THE CAULDRON BEFORE 1AM. And whatever you do, don't go into the empty lot behind that abandoned farmhouse on Baker Street and pick up the glass jars with the blue glowing liquid.
From: Sabrina, Puck, Daphne, and Red
Hmm. Where was Mr. Canis, then? Maybe he just forgot to sign the note? I doubted it. But the part that really bothered me was that bit about Baker Street.
End of Chapter
Authors' Note: Sorry we couldn't update last week. Cerulean got a tattoo. It's airbrush! Still.
Lea and Cal Read Reviews
RockSuperstar: We don't intend on abandoning this. The hiatus was only because our computer was pretty much dead for months on end. But we're back now. And no, the key thing's not completely new. It's part of Harry Houdini's Seven Escapes From Ferryport Landing.
anon: Sabrina and Daphne are actually experiencing a lot more than Basil lets on. They're not telling him the whole story. It really did feel like a teen romance. I mean, a guy you haven't seen in five years? How do you know he's still the same guy, personality-wise?
Puckabrina-FAXfan: I really wanted Sabrina to go into war and kick some ass, but I guess with her being twelve years old and all, she would've seemed like a Mary Sue. Glad you're liking it so far. We try to make it likeable.
emowriter: I had no idea there was a Daphne-ish dictionary! As soon as we get the chance to find all our Daphne-ish words, we'll do that.
14: The Mortal Instruments? I've definitely heard of that. I think it was the series that my friend from soccer was telling me about at our last soccer campout. Writing with a sister actually—wow, I can't wait to hear this—is a good thing. Wait, what? You can yell at them about things you can't tell a friend, and you can nag them about updating. See, with a friend you always have to worry about hurting their feelings. It's almost impossible for either one of us to hurt the other's feelings, but if we do, we forgive. But I hold grudges. We'll quote the Simpsons now:
Lisa: But I just feel so… angry!
Marge: You're a woman. You can hold onto it forever.
Thank you for commenting about my blog. And Bellatrix is just as angry as ever. She bit me the other day. Also, we're teenagers. I'm 18 months older.
SweetShireen: I think humor is a really important part of a book. Even Shakespeare understood the need for comic relief. Stephenie Meyer does not. Actually, if you read the Taming of the Shrew, which you will probably have to read in school, you'll learn that Shakespeare had one heck of a dirty mind. We used to PM reviewers, and we still do for oneshots, and I do it when I write alone, but we reply here because of all the anonymous reviewers. Also, you can't use Bold and Italics when you PM. In this way, we can use our comedy dynamic better. But you can totally feel free to PM us.