A Recipe For Disaster

Author’s note: this story uses the same character’s as my previous story, ‘Can You?’. While it’s perfectly fine to read this story by itself, it might be more enjoyable and maybe more sense if you read ‘Can You?’ first. Thanks for reading, and ENJOY!

~*~ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕖~*~

“How’re you holding up?” Samantha whispers.

“Could be better,” I reply.

My gaze wanders over the multi-purpose room. We don’t have prom in ninth grade—we have a ‘DJ Dance Party’. 

It’s exactly what it sounds like: ninth graders pile into our glammed-up cafeteria, with the tables pushed up, the lights out, a disco ball attached to the ceiling, a DJ, and way too many glow-sticks.

The DJ Dance Party is loud and filled with people—kids who seem to have a knack for talking my ear off. Not my kind of night.

Most people like the social outing. But I’m like a meme I've read: I’m not prejudiced; I dislike everybody. People are really annoying—minus Samantha, that is.

It’s been a couple months since my best friend learned I had powers. She’s the only person who knows, and I intend on keeping it that way. Sammy’s sworn to secrecy, and I’m actually glad I told her. She looks out for me as a person, and a magical person. But mainly the first: we’ve been besties for a while. For instance, she’ll check on me every now and then at this dreaded dance party she made me come to.

“It’ll be fun,” she said.

“You need to be more social,” she said.

“Just give it a shot,” she said.

Sorry, Samantha, but this isn’t fun, and I’m perfectly content with only ever talking to you. I don’t even live with my family—ever since I was banished from the Enchanted Academy, I live by myself in a home only accessible by magic.

“Did you hear it?”

“Hear what?” I say, staring into the green eyes of my brown-haired friend. We’re leaning against the wall, watching everybody party.

“There’s a new kid at school,” Sammy says. “Her name’s…Margarita, I think.”

My blue eyes are probably the size of dollar coins. Margarita. I know a ‘Margarita’. She’s the girl who used to be my friend at the Enchanted Academy…before she got us both banished. 

It’s best if I forget about her. 

Besides, this is a different Margarita! My friend Mara couldn’t be here. It’s not the most common name, but there are over 100,000 Margaritas in the USA alone. Yup, it’s a different girl.

“She's over there, so I’m going to go talk to her,” Sammy continues. “Be back in a sec.”

She walks away and I’m left in a crown of partying teenagers. I stride towards the food table and I’m sipping on some punch when Samantha returns, a girl with a black hoodie and jeans next to her.

“Margarita, Rosalee,” Sammy says. “Rosalee, Margarita.”

The girl’s hood slips off and I resist gasping. She has thick, curly brown hair falling to her shoulders, and the bottom half is chock-full with streaks of red. She has brown eyes with a smattering of freckles thrown across her nose, her full lips wearing a playful smile.

The smile disappears when she sees me.

It’s her.

Margarita Draanen.

Are you kidding?!

Samantha’s grin wavers. “Guys, do you know each other? Or is something else wrong? ‘Cause you both froze up…Um, okay, this is awkward.”

“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to get rid of the feeling. “No, we don’t know each other. Hi, Margarita.” I stick my hand out to shake—something I hate doing.

Her smile returns as she takes my hand. “Yeah, we don’t know each other. Hullo,” she says in her faint British accent. “Nice to meet you, Rosalee. You can call me Mara.”

I nod and back away from my friend and ex-friend.

Margarita Draanen is here. Seriously?!

This is a recipe for disaster, I think.

This night has taken an unexpected twist….

~*~мαrɢαrιтα~*~

I can’t believe this.

I can’t freakin’ believe this.

Rosalee Adams is here!

That girl and I have a…rocky relationship. We both attended the Enchanted Academy, a place where we and dozens of other teens with powers learned to master and control our magic.

Rose and I were close friends. Until…the incident.

I’m a rash person with a hot head and strong emotions. Magic has direct ties to feelings, and I’m really bad at controlling both. 

At EA, we learned that anytime we feel a strong emotion, magic can happen accidentally. Everyone mastered shutting down the magic when they felt happiness, sadness, excitement and more until called upon.

Everyone but me.

Rosalee and I didn’t think that was a problem until I got mad at her. And I felt an emotion, accidentally did magic, and one thing led to another until we were both kicked out of EA.

I vowed to forget about her.

But now she’s here?

At the same school the EA placed me in (even after we leave the academy, they still keep close tabs on its magical students by assigning us new schools) after I got kicked out of my other private middle school?

You’ve got to be kidding.

But I’m not going to get involved with Rosalee Adams. Nope. I’m going to ignore her, ignore my magic, and try to be a normal fifteen-year-old. Rosalee might exist, but I’m going to forget her as my ex-bestie. She’s just another non-magical human.

Okay. All that leaves is to ignore everybody else at this blasted party.

I despise parties. And people. I hate all these teens crowded into this noisy place—I dislike the people and the situation, I mean. It’s overwhelming and I’m afraid of what I’m going to feel and do if I hang around too long. 

Pretty much everybody at the EA is introverted at first, and doesn’t like parties and other gatherings because of emotions, but most adapted and now enjoy them.

Not me.

I want to, need to, get out of here. But it's barely eight p.m. Going home now would definitely be weird compared to the teens who dance till eleven, and I am trying to fit in…. 

No, I think. I can stand embarrassment if it keeps everybody safe from my stupid magic.

“Where’d Rosalee go?” Samantha wonders.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“She doesn't like large gatherings. Do you?”

“I’m going home in ten minutes,” I mutter, and only after the words come out of my mouth do I realize I’ve answered her question.

“Already, Margarita?” She frowns. 

“Yeah,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.” I flip my red hair and march off.

It’s a wonder what empty hallways can do to you. As soon as I step out of the muti-purpose room, with all its action and madness, and into the deserted, air-condition hallways, I feel way more relaxed. 

I only got to this private school yesterday, so it takes me a moment to find the bathroom. As soon as I step into the restroom, I glance up into the mirror. My pale face is clammy with sweat.

I just want this night to be over.

~*~ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕖~*~

I watch Margarita disappear into the bathroom. By now, I’m just wandering the halls, migrating from place to place. The party’s too overwhelming—sorry, Sammy.

I wonder if Mara really has to use the bathroom, or is just trying to escape from the crazed teenagers. It could be both—lots of EA students and ex-EA students are introverted and dislike loads of people.

Especially Margarita.

I recall the day we both got kicked out. Mara and I were going to lunch when we got into an argument about…something. I forget. It’s barely been half a year, but I’ve been trying to forget about her—and it was working until now.

Anyways, Mara being Mara, she couldn’t stifle the magic woven into her emotions. She started doing magic—fight magic.

Fight magic is illegal at the EA.

And it was aimed at me.

Any fighting is illegal at the EA.

Margarita was—is—one of the most powerful EA students ever; she got her magic straight from raw emotions. But she couldn’t control her powers because of that.

I know she didn’t mean to start using fight magic, but she was—and she was about to hurt me.

I remember my strawberry-blond curls swinging in my face as I countered the magic with my own. I was barely fighting—just defense against Mara’s powerful fight magic.

The headmaster didn’t care.

Margarita got kicked out and so did I. To different schools.

But now…the same school.

What was our headmaster thinking when he thought it was a good idea to place Margarita and me together again? 

Whatever the reason, she’s here now.

Samantha seems to like her. That’s…good. But my friend can’t know I know Mara. I don’t know why, but she can’t. Sammy has no idea Margarita is magic, too. Which also means Margarita has no idea that Sammy knows I have magic. 

Hmmm….

“Hi, Rosalee,” Samantha says.

I jump and glance to my left. Sammy’s standing there, her greens eyes darting around. “Why’re you here? What ever happened to giving the DJ Dance Party a shot?”

I shrug. “Too many people.”

“Come on, Rosalee! You’re a teenager. This is fun!”

“Too many people,” I repeat.

“But—”

“Sammy, go away,” I groan.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Maybe I’ll go tell Margarita to stay. She’s leaving soon—she seems to hate parties like you.”

“You’re not going to be able to convince her to stay.”

Sammy gives me a funny look. “Why? And how would you know? You just met her.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “But I have a feeling she’s still going to”—I flick my wrists—“vamoose. I’d say just leave her alone.”

“You know,” Samantha says, “I think you’re jealous.”

Of Mara?

“Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Mmhmm,” Sammy eyes me. “I’m going to go walk Margarita home. ’Night, Rosalee.”

“’Night, Sammy,” I echo.

She walks off to wait for Margarita.

I stand there and observe as Mara comes out of the bathroom. She and Samantha chat—it seems like Mara doesn’t want to be walked home (duh, I think. If she’s living like me, she’ll need magic to get home.) but Sammy insists. Margarita finally sighs and leads Sammy off.

I start to trot after them.

~*~мαrɢαrιтα~*~

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” 

I let out a breath out of the corner of my mouth. “Yeah.”

In truth, it does feel pretty good. The winter air is barely 40°, but I don’t wear any coat besides my hoodie—which I take off. The cool breeze feels amazing against my skin, especially after the hot, stuffy dance party.

“You can let me walk from here,” I tell Samantha.

“No, it’s okay,” she insists.

I inwardly groan. I need to use my magic to get home, and Samantha can’t see. I need to ditch her before the next block—I can enter my house from the woods, and the trees lining the sidewalk are about to end.

I stop. “No, seriously, please let me walk home alone.”

Sammy glances at me uncertainly. “Um, fine.”

I pick up the pace and am relieved to hear no footsteps follow. Samantha must’ve gone back to the school.

I continue my brisk trot until I reach the path into the woods. I walk into the forest and breathe a sigh of relief. I’m safe. 

No kids, no noise, not a single person to hurt with my magic.

My feet sink into the ground a little as I walk through the forest. The trees make freaky shapes in the darkness of 8:30 p.m., but I don’t care.

I eventually reach the clearing. I walk up to the tree I enchanted and glance at the hole in it’s trunk. Time to open the portal.

I wave my hand around the forest and the nearby plants wither as I suck the water out of them. “Sorry,” I whisper as a huge ball of water, easily a couple gallons, hovers above my palms.

The way I open the portal is by shooting water into the knot. I’m about to use my hands and magic as a water gun when I hear something.

Crack.

Something, stepping on a twig.

I whip my head around. If it’s an animal, I’m fine. If it’s a human—well, I’m doing magic. I hope it’s not a human.

Naturally, it’s a human.

“Margarita?” A voice calls.

I pale and turn around until I see Samantha standing on the path. The moon casts a sheet of white across her body, illuminating her startled expression. “You’re doing magic,” she breathes.

Instead of dropping the water, I do something way worse.

Panic builds up inside of me as I shift my gaze from her, to the floating patch of water, from her, to the water. I’m shaking and breathing way too quickly as I steady my hands.

But the pressure inside is too much.

I cry out and shoot the water at her.

Splash.

“AH!”

Crackle.

“AHHH!”

My eyes are shut tight and I don’t want to open them for fear of what I did. But I have to see the damage I just caused.

I slowly blink my eyes open.

Samantha is frozen, a coat of ice covering her entire body neck-down.

I’m hoping that’s the end of it when I see something else I did without realizing it:

Dozens of floating knives made of ice, positioned around Sammy’s head. 

~*~ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕖~*~

My feet pound on the ground as I run down the path.

I was just leisurely going after Samantha, to talk to her and repeat I’m not jealous of Margarita, when I hear screams.

Sammy’s screams.

So now I’m jogging, running, sprinting to the clearing I know is at the end of this trail. It’s the one I go to to practice my magic—the other clearing by the playground is the one I use at recess.

“SAMANTHA!” I yell. “I’M COMING!”

I burst into the clearing to see Mara, her brown eyes wide and a startled expression planted onto her face, backing into a tree.

Opposite from her—Sammy, frozen in ice, with knives hovering above her head.

Margarita seems to be trying to undo the magic, but it’s not working. Margarita’s not great at controlling her powers, when she uses them or has to fix the effects, so I’m worried. “Stop,” I say. “You’ll just make it worse.”

I ignore Mara’s eyes as I run up to Samantha.

I flick my wrists, and a second later, all the ice is just a pool of water at our feet. I hug Sammy and she hugs me back. “Thank you,” she says.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Samantha pulls out of the hug and stares at Margarita. “You have…powers.”

“And you saw,” Margarita says miserably.

Mara jogs over to me and grabs my hand. She starts pulling me away but I rip my hand away. “We need to go,” Margarita tells me. “Samantha saw. We have to get out of here. Probably erase her memory, too.”

“Nobody’s erasing anybody's memory,” I say firmly.

“Rosalee, I know she’s your friend, she knows we have—”

“She already knew we have powers,” I say. “At least, that I have powers. Sammy’s known for months. She’s not going to rat us out.”

Samantha nods. “I would never.” She peers closer at Mara. “So. You have magic, too. And…Rosalee seems to know that already.” She backs up and gives a knowing look. “You guys have met before, haven't you?” 

Margarita and I exchange looks.

“…Yeah,” I say.

“But it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Mara agrees.

Samantha looks at me suspiciously. “Rosalee…?”

“We have a lot to explain. But let’s start with the Enchanted Academy.”

*

“So,” I say, “mind blown, right?”

Sammy shrugs. “I wouldn’t say my mind is blown, but if I were a robot, I’d be saying ‘beep-boop-bop, circuits overheating’.”

Margarita and I laugh and Sammy joins in, before abruptly stopping.

“Hold on,” Samantha says. “Let me get this straight.” She turns to me. “You and Margarita went to school at this place called the… Enchanted Academy, a place for other teens with powers. You two were best friends, until Margarita's magic got out of control, you magic-battled, and you both got expelled. Banished. Whatever. And, here, Margarita’s magic got out of control again, because she didn’t know I’m already aware of magic.”

“Right. Sorry,” Mara apologized for the millionth time.

Samantha grinned. “Don't be. It’s fine.”

“You call frozen in place with knives over your head fine?” I throw my hands up. “Wow, Sammy. Just…wow.”

“Still,” Margarita says to my friend. “I owe you one.” The red-haired girl checks her watch. “It’s not even nine p.m.. Do you guys want to go get ice cream? I’ll pay.” 

Sammy looked like she wanted to protest but Margarita mouths, Again, I owe you one!

“Sounds good,” I smirk.

“Umm….”

Margarita side-eyes Samantha. “What?”

“I just got frozen in ice. Let’s skip the ice cream, please.”

Mara chuckles. “Riiight. Does bubble tea sound good?” 

“Yup,” Samantha says.

The two set off down the trail but don’t follow yet. I scan my surroundings. It’s chilly but I don’t mind. The full moon sports a halo of silky white light, and glittering stars are scattered against their blue-black backdrop.

I step into the path and start walking out of the woods, the only sound being the birds tweeting and my friends’ laughter ringing up ahead.