Lock and Key (Nocturne Academy 1)

But those scars weren’t the only ones she had. Her entire left leg was covered in the twisted pink and white scar tissue as well. It occurred to me now, that Kaitlyn always wore dark tights under the white knee-socks which were standard issue with the Nocturne Academy uniform. I hadn’t thought much of it before—supposing her to be cold natured.

Now I saw the pitiful truth of it. She’d been trying to hide her scars, the same way I had been desperate to hide mine. Only hers were so…so much worse.

“Coach Vasquez, please,” she said in a muffled voice, turning to face our Phys Ed teacher. “Please, don’t make me go out in front of the rest of the class like this!”

“I most certainly do not expect you to go like that!” Coach Vasquez declared.

For a moment I thought Kaitlyn’s soft, desperate plea had softened the Drake teacher’s heart. But then I saw the mean little gleam, far back in her tiny black eyes and my heart sank.

“You’ll need to put your hair back in a ponytail—both of you,” she snapped out. And, pulling two black hair elastics out of the pocket of her pristine white shorts, she shoved them at me and Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn looked at the black elastic band as though it was a poisonous snake.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking a little. “No, please—you don’t understand…”

“I understand that the two of you are looking at more demerits and possibly a suspension if you don’t get that hair back and get your asses out on the field in the next thirty seconds!” Coach Vasquez snapped. “Now, move!”

Kaitlyn and I both took the black bands and began mechanically putting our hair in ponytails. My new friend moved with quick, jerky movements—as though she just wanted to get the act over with. When she was finished, she kept her head down, her eyes pointing at the ground—but I could still see what she had been trying so hard to hide.

The entire left side of her face looked melted.

It was as though someone had held her skin to the fire and it had softened and run like wax. Her pert little nose was all right but her left eye was drooping and nearly closed. Likewise, the left corner of her mouth drooped downward and her left ear was nothing more than a melted lump of pinkish tissue.

It was an awful, disfiguring injury, made somehow worse by the fact that the right side of her face, which was unmarked, was remarkably lovely.

I suddenly felt guilty about worrying so much about myself earlier. My own neat white rows of scars seemed insignificant beside Kaitlyn’s. It was like comparing a shallow scratch to a gaping wound.

But even with the terrible scarring revealed, Coach Vasquez’s face didn’t betray even a shred of compassion.

“That’s right,” she said sternly. “Finally ready to go. The two of you will have to run in your uniform shoes today which will probably give you blisters. Serves you right for making the rest of the class wait—hopefully you’ll learn a lesson.”

She turned to lead the way out of the locker room but I ran forward and caught her by the arm, unable to stand seeing the mute misery on Kaitlyn’s face.

“Wait!” I demanded in a low voice. “Coach Vasquez—”

“How dare you?” She yanked her arm out of my hand. “That’s another five demerits, Miss Latimer! Keep going and you’ll lose your homeward privileges this weekend!”

But at that point, I didn’t give a damn about demerits or privileges. All I could see was Kaitlyn’s scarred and melted face and the miserable look in her one good eye.

“Listen,” I said to the Coach. “I know this is a magical school and all but haven’t any of you people ever gone through any kind of sensitivity training? What the hell is wrong with you, forcing Kaitlyn to go out and show herself to the class this way when she clearly doesn’t want to?”

Her small black eyes narrowed meanly.

“Just for that remark, Miss Latimer, you will be running laps in the sun this entire period. And if you don’t want your friend, Miss Fellows, to join you, I suggest you go now!”

In any other normal school, I would have left and gone straight to the office to speak to someone in authority. There was no way Coach Velasquez ought to get away with this kind of emotional cruelty!

But Nocturne Academy wasn’t a normal school and I wasn’t at all sure how a student reporting a teacher would go over. It was conceivable that I would get not only myself, but also Kaitlyn suspended or expelled. Also, from the almost frantic shake of her head and the look of fear in her one good eye, I could tell Kaitlyn didn’t want me to take the chance.

Filled with frustration, I turned and headed through the large wooden door which led out onto a vast grassy field, flooded with mercilessly bright Florida sunshine.