Jax shrugs. “I figured keeping the whole class from drowning was more for my benefit than theirs. Fewer students in class mean more focus on me.” I shake my head.
Madame Cleo moans and we turn back to the tank. She’s starting to come to. I bang on it, knowing that’s the opposite of what you’re supposed to do to a fish tank, but I don’t know what else to do. “Madame Cleo? Are you okay?”
Cleo’s green eyes snap open like she’s in a trance. “Once a villain, always a villain,” she says in a monotone voice that sounds nothing like her own. “Evil is coming and it can’t be stopped. Enchantasia, beware…” Her mouth curves into a sinister smile. “Fairy Tale Reform School will burn.”
The hair on my arms stands up.
“She’s under some sort of spell.” Jax bangs harder on the glass. “Madame Cleo?”
Cleo’s eyes flutter wildly and then her body relaxes. “Darlings!” she smiles. “How good of you to come to detention. Is it just you two today?”
Jax and I look at each other. Did that really just happen?
“Uh, yeah,” Jax says.
“Great!” Madame Cleo smiles and pets a sea horse that swims by her. The thing is still trembling with fear from her recent outburst. “Then let’s dance, shall we?”
CHAPTER 12
Royal Day
“Good morning, Fairy Tale Reform School!” Headmistress Flora’s unusually cheery voice booms through the great hall. “Today is the day we’ve been waiting for. After five years, the princesses will be arriving any minute to visit our fine school!”
Cheers ripple through the packed student crowd (attendance was mandatory) like we’re at an über-popular Troll-tally Fantastic concert.
Flora has rolled out the red carpet—literally—for our royal guests. A gold “Welcome to Fairy Tale Reform School!” banner hangs over the great hall’s archway, and the FTRS band is practicing the royal processional while Happily Ever After Scrolls reporters stand anxiously near the school’s two-story front doors with quills and paper at the ready. We’re all standing at attention. Tanks have been set up along the back wall of the hall for the mer-students, and Madame Cleo has been beamed in on one of Miri’s mirrors. There’s even a fairyographer ready to capture the princesses’ arrival.
“I expect you to put your best foot—or fin—forward today,” Flora says. Professor Harlow and Professor Wolfington flank the headmistress, each in long, green embroidered robes, while Jocelyn—shocker—stands nearby.” We have a list of activities the royals will be attending, which you should have received this morning along with starched uniforms.”
My favorite work boots seem to have gone missing. The only shoes I could find this morning were the ugly, black standard ones we all wear.
Clever, Flora. Very clever.
“These uniforms itch,” grumbles Jax, who is standing next to me. His hair is slicked back, and the buttons on his shirt gleam even brighter than his shoes.
“They make us look good,” says Ollie as he makes his way through the crowd to reach us. I watch as he produces a crystal bottle from inside his shirt sleeve. A few feet away I hear someone say, “Hey! What happened to my cologne?” Ollie doesn’t blink an eye as he dabs away. The musky smell makes my eyes water. “You never know when one of these princesses is going to ditch her prince and go looking for a more worldly fella.”
“Today is a very important day for our school,” Flora adds. “We want the princesses to recognize FTRS’s positive impact on the kingdom of Enchantasia.”
Kayla snorts. “She means she’s desperate for them to throw us a royal ball. Ick! The idea of curtsying to royals makes me want to cough up my breakfast.”
I didn’t realize Kayla was a royal hater like me. Makes me realize how little the two of us have really talked since I got here almost two weeks ago.
A group of girls wearing hot pink Royal Ladies-in-Waiting sashes pushes past us. Groan. I saw these girls in our dorm common room last night, and they couldn’t stop bragging about how they were the royal school escorts for the day. As if I’d ever want that job.
“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” I joke. “You shouldn’t have gotten up so early to help prepare the royal feast, Kayla.”
Jax gives her a look. “You did? Why’d you volunteer if you hate the royals so much?”
“Extra-credit and I’m not tired. I’m fine,” Kayla snaps. “Can we just stop talking about this?”
She doesn’t look fine. Kayla’s eyes have black rings under them, and her short, blond hair is unusually unkempt. She didn’t even put on her pressed uniform. Well, if she wanted to talk about whatever is bothering her, I assume she would. I think that’s what roommates do—not that we’ve done that, other than the night when she told me about her family.