CHAPTER THREE

     

Chapter Three

When I came to, I was in the nurse’s office. Zoe waited by my side, going through her phone.

As soon as she saw me awake, she called for the nurse.  “Miss Sheppard, she is awake.”

“Ow,” I groaned, rubbing my head.

“Sorry, dear.” The nurse appeared in her white coat, her short hair bouncing with each step she took. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” I cried , trying to feel my numb face.

“The swelling has reduced, thank goodness.” She peered at my eyes and probed gently.

“Wait, swelling? Zoe, do I really look that bad?”

“No. You look like there regular you, only pale. All that purple black is gone.”

“You had a concussion but I suggest you go to the hospital for a CT scan just in case of brain injuries,” Miss Shepard said.

“Oh, god. I swear I will kill Reed this time.”

“Oh, God,” Zoe mimicked. “Stop your childish antics, Phoebe. I am taking you home.”

“I am not being childish.”

“Sure. Sure.” She helped me up and crouched to help me with my sneakers.

“Thanks, Zoe.”

“I am only doing this so you can suffer while I order you around in our eighties.”

“Yes, ma’am. Want to come over for ice cream? Uncle Al is going to be home today.”

“Okay.”

“Have some,” Miss Shepard said, handing out M and M bars. As I collected it, my hand brushed against hers and then, I saw an indigo halo float around her.

I drew my hand back, inhaling sharply. “What the-?” It disappeared as quickly as it came, as though it has never been there.

“What?”

“Did you see that light?” I asked, wondering if I even saw it at all.

“What light? Sunlight or the bulb light?” Zoe grabbed my hand, confusion etched on her face.

“The ball must have hit you really hard,” the nurse said.

It must have because I saw that weird halo on Zoe too but this time, it was yellow and slowly grew dark.

“You need to go home and rest.”

Like before, it disappeared when Zoe stopped holding my hand.

So weird!

“Here,” She said, handing me a small brown envelope. “Your bracelet is in here. It’s damage though.”

Good riddance? I never really liked it anyway. I collected the envelope reluctantly and followed her out.

After Zoe dropped me off, I spotted the red Audi A4 sitting in front of the garage.

Excited, I hurried to the house. “Uncle Al!”

“Sugar!” His deep voice echoed in the quiet house as he appeared from the kitchen, his dark hair messy. Before I knew it, I was clinched in his arms, pressed to his chest, arms pinned to my sides, feet dangling. His hold was so tight, I wondered if I could breathe and just as quickly I was released.

Uncle Al is my dad’s older brother and less strict. He raised me with my dad which had raised a few eyebrows after my mother died. So when he is not on business, he is busy raising me.

Blinking away the strange dark red halo I saw, I asked excitedly, “When did you arrive?”

“An hour ago.” He drew into the living room where shopping bags littered the center table and sofa.

“For me?!” At his nod, I dug into each bag and brought out the items; a new designer bag, perfume, shoes, basketball t-shirt signed by Becky Hammon and Nikes!

“Do you like them?”

“Very much. Thank you.”

“So, how was school today?” He asked, helping me sort through the rest of the gifts.

I groaned. “Awful.”

“Does it have to do with that boy again?”

“Yes. He is so annoying.” I drew my voice down as I remembered. “I need your help, Uncle Al and you can’t tell Dad about it.”

He drew an invisible zip over his lips. “What is it?”

“I need to do a CT scan. Idiot Reed threw a ball in my face, giving me a concussion.”

“What are you two whispering about?”

I shot up when I heard my dad’s stern voice and turned. In his business suit, Dad pushed his glasses further up as he eyed the two of us. 

“Hi, Dad,” I greeted.

When did he arrive?

“Albert,” Dad greeted. “You are back.”

“Happy to see me?” Uncle Al spread his arms for a hug.

Holding up a hand, Dad shook his head. “Just when it was getting peaceful around here.” His dark eyes fell on the gifts and narrowed in disapproval.

Noticing, Uncle Al said, “I brought you something too.”

“You spoil Phoebe, Albert.”

Rising to his feet, he retorted, “You are not doing enough spoiling, Juniper. She is our little princess.”

“Have you seen her grades?”

“Loosen up. She is a teenager, let her have fun.”

“And end up like you? Fun will only get her so far.”

“What’s wrong with me? I’ve got money and I work and I have fun. Unlike you.”

Dad’s lips drew thin with irritation. He turned to leave then paused and looked straight at me.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“Raise your hands.”

“Leave her alone, Juniper.”

“Phoebe, raise your hands.”

Frightened, I did as he instructed and watched his face contort with horror.

“Where is your bracelet?”

“Oh, it broke while practice in school.”

Dad dropped his bag and rushed over to me, holding my hands. “Where is it?”

I dug through the mess I made for my bag and drew out the brown envelope containing the broken bracelet.

He snatched it from my hand and took it out. “Impossible.”

“How did that happen?” Uncle Al asked. The shock on his face worried me.

“Well, it was during practice.”

“No. Tell me precisely how it happened. Do not leave a single detail out.”

I peered at my Dad who watched me expectantly. Was the bracelet that precious? Besides, Dad would go ballistic if he found out I got hurt.

“The ball hit my nose and in the confusion, I don’t know, it broke. Oh, there was blood on it but Zoe wiped it.”

“But even blood should never have allowed this to remove,” Uncle Al muttered then turned to Dad. “Are you sure you did the spell correctly?”

“I am absolutely sure, Albert. I doubled the strength of the spell every birthday.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, staring at the bracelet that seemed to lose its silvery appearance.

“Have you experienced anything strange?”

“Like what?”

“Levitation, telekinesis or mind reading?”

“What? No. What is going on?”

“If you have not experienced anything strange, I guess there is still time,” Dad said.

“Time for what?”

“To give you another bracelet.”

“Another tacky bracelet? Why?”

“It is to protect you.”

“Is it some sort of tracker, Uncle Al?”

“It is not a tracker.”

“Dad, wait.” I reached blindly for his hand. As soon as I touched him, he glowed white. The halo around felt so strong, I could barely breathe.

“Phoebe!”

Snapping out of it, I drew back in fear. “What was that?”

Realization dawned on my father’s face as he said, “Oh, no.”