nked red in between the soft blue folds. Her raggedy black skirt with the splashes of red, white, and blue paint went well with her forest-print-like black-and-white leggings.
“Your hair!” Evil Queen said with despair, tucking a loose strand back into her daughter’s neat V-braid, which swept her hair off her forehead. “Okay, now you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Mom,” said Evie, whose only goal was to survive the day. “Are you sure it’s safe to go to school?”
“No one can keep a grudge for ten years! Also, we’re all out of wrinkle cream! Pick up some from the bazaar—I don’t trust the vultures to send the right one.”
Evie nodded and hoped her mother was right.
But when she stepped out of their castle gates, she froze. Maleficent’s curse echoed in her ears. But nothing happened, and she kept going. Maybe, for once, the wicked old fairy had forgotten about it.
When Evie arrived at school that morning, everyone stared at her as she walked through the halls. She felt a bit self-conscious, and wondered if she’d ever fit in. She was supposed to check in with Dr. F, the headmaster, when she arrived. But where were the administrative chambers? Evie wondered, whirling around in a full circle.
“May I help you?” a handsome if somewhat hairy and very large boy asked when he saw her.
“Oh—I’m looking for the headmaster—?”
“Follow me,” he said with a broad grin. “Gaston, at your service…and this is my brother, Gaston.” He pointed to his identical twin, who gave her the same beaming, arrogant smile.
“Thank you, uh, Gastons.” Evie replied. The boys led her down the hall to the administrative-tombs.
“Dr. F, you got a visitor,” Gaston said reaching for the door handle.
“I want to open it,” his brother said, elbowing him away. But the first Gaston punched him without even a backward look. “After you, princess,” he offered grandly, as his brother slithered to the floor, holding his jaw.
“Um, thanks, I think,” said Evie.
Dr. Facilier looked up and gave the three students a jack-o’-lantern smile. “Yes? Oh, Evie, welcome to Dragon Hall. It’s a delight to see you again, child. It’s been too long. Ten years, is it? How is your lovely mother?”
“She’s well, thanks.” Evie nodded politely but hurried to get to the point. “Dr. Facilier, I just wanted to see if I could swap my Wickedness class for Advanced Vanities that meets at the same time?” she asked.
The shadowy man frowned. Evie batted her eyelashes. “It would mean so much to me. By the way—” She pointed to his bolo tie, with its unfortunate silver chain. “That is so cool!” she said, thinking exactly the opposite.
“Oh, this? I picked it up in the Bayou d’Orleans right before I was brought here.” He sighed, and his frown softened into a real smile. “I suppose Vanities is a better fit for your overall schedule. Consider it done.”
“Good, I’m in that class,” the Gastons chorused. “On Tuesdays it’s right after lunch.”
“Lunch!” Evie slapped her forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot to bring mine!” In all the excitement and anxiety about finally leaving the castle, she’d left her basket at home.
“Don’t worry,” the twins replied. “You can share ours!” they added, holding up two huge baskets of food. A giant block of some particularly smelly cheese poked out, along with two loaves of brown bread speckled with mold and several thick slices of liverwurst.
Evie was touched they had offered to share, even though they looked like they could eat a horse and a half between them, with or without the mold.
They led her down the winding hallway. The stone walls were covered in the same pea-green moss as outside, and seemed to be leaking some sort of brown liquid all over the dusty cement floor. Evie felt something furry circling her ankles and found a fat black cat with a smug grin looking up at her.
“Hi, kitty,” she cooed, leaning down to pet it.
“That’s Lucifer,” said one of the Gastons. “Our mascot.”
Several yelps from first-year students could be heard from inside the rusty lockers that haphazardly lined the corridor. With only a few lightbulbs flickering overhead, Evie nearly walked into a giant cobweb woven over a heavy steel door. A spider the size of a witch’s cauldron sat in its center. Cool.
“Where does that lead to?” she asked.
“Oh that? That’s the door to the Athenaeum of Evil,” the other Gaston said.