The Coven(Lauren Coose) (Note that the author was 16 years old when she wrote this story.)


The new girl arrives today. I drum my fingers on my forest green Spanish binder. Matrina found her. I hope this all gets done soon. I have a Spanish quiz tomorrow.

Oh, drat. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Alicia Young, but everyone calls me Al. Drum. Drum. I’m the one in the light blue shirt with the glittering white palm trees and the tight blue jeans sitting on Mat’s (that Matrina’s) rug, leaning back against Bert’s (Kimberly’s) knees. I’ve got bright blonde hair and green eyes. Oh yeah, and the other girls think I’m a ditz. And I am. Drum. Drum.

Vic (Victoria) checks her watch. She’s never been a patient person, but remains my best friend. We’re all family in here. Drum. Drum. No one speaks. Ron (Cameron) sits in the armchair with one leg tossed lazily over the arm and her fiery red hair draping over the other one. She has a book of paintings propped against one leg and was intently studying one. She’s really into all that artsy stuff and so gifted at it. Music, painting, art, cooking, writing, whatever happens to suit her mood, she does perfectly. Drum. Drum.

It’s actually strange that Ron is here and Mat isn’t. They’re best friends, and almost inseparable. Like Vic and I or Bert and T. Mat may have chosen to go alone because Ron frightens many people. Drum. Drum. Ron is not a mild person. She has that intense red hair, intense emerald eyes, intense glares, and intense personality. People who don’t know her like we do tend to be afraid that she will hurt them. They might be right. Drum. Drum.

Bert’s knees move some, and I move to my right to lean against Vic’s. Bert is treating a cut on T’s lower left arm. T (or Tina) always manages to get herself hurt. Drum. Drum. Bert is like our mother, trying to keep all of us safe, and fixing us all up when we get hurt. It’s hard to believe sometimes that she’s our age. T and Bert are direct opposites, and best friends. No matter how much T hates it when Bert tends her gashes. Drum. Drum.

Vic and I are really almost never apart. She leaned down, black hair making a graceful drape in front of her pale face and light blue eyes, and mussed my hair. Her laugh was high and tinkled like bells. I squeaked, and threw my arms over my hair, straightening it as much as possible while sending Vic a playful glare. She just played with it again, and began braiding it. Drum. Drum.

Ron looked angry. She closed the book and paced around the room. Any sound that her silver heels would have made was muffled by the rug I was sitting on. She was so distracted that she ally steeped on one of my feet. I thought I was the clumsy one! Drum. Drum.

Was there some problem with the new girl? Who was she? Why wasn’t Mat here? She was never late. Argh. Drum. Drum.

Mat’s footsteps rang out on the hardwood floors of the hallway. We could hear her outside the door. “Welcome,” the door opened, “to the Angelic Coven.”

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