Flunked (Fairy Tale Reform School, #1)

“How could Madame Cleo’s tank break?” I ask more importantly, and the girls turn to look at me with disdain. Obviously not being a Royal Lady-in-Waiting means I’m not allowed to comment. “I thought it was made of the strongest glass there is.”


“Nothing’s strong enough to compete with black magic,” says Jocelyn, walking past us. The torches lighting the hallway dim as if they sense her darkness. “The crack in the tank, the swarm of pernicious peony ants that were accidentally released in the botany lab, the poisoned fruit found in the cafeteria at the breakfast buffet.” She looks at me directly. “No one should cross the dark side.”

“Poisoned fruit?” Maxine’s lazy eye does a one-eighty.

Jocelyn takes a bite of an apple. “Helmut’s at the infirmary with Princess Rapunzel, who got a nasty peony-ant bite on her nose.”

One of the Royal Ladies pulls off her pink sash, and it hits Maxine in the face. “I’m told Ella gave Flora her permission this morning for us to hold an anniversary ball at FTRS next week. Now that’s never going to happen! What are we going to do, ladies?”

Who cares about the royal ball? I want to know whether Flora would host Royal Day if she is up to no good.

Maybe.

Azalea is waiting as we approach the gym locker room. She student teaches in our class, and she doesn’t look thrilled. “You’re keeping Harlow waiting, and you all know how much Harlow likes to be kept waiting.”

“Harlow?” I ask. “Where’s Madame Tilly?” Tilly is our ogre-rific gym coach. With the warts on her nose, her unibrow, and the bad overbite, she’s kind of tough to look at, but she’s the nicest teacher in this joint.

“Harlow is taking over your class to prevent any more incidents.” Azalea adjusts the bodice of her pale peach gown. I look around. There’s no sign of Kayla. “One more misstep and the princesses are out of here, so suit up. Harlow wants you to impress them with your fencing skills.”

“Excellent.” Jocelyn gives me a smug smile.

“Happily Ever After Scrolls is here too,” Azalea adds. “Let’s make a good impression, ladies. It would be nice if one story from today could be about how our reform school is actually reforming students rather than injuring them.”

“Somehow I don’t see how using swords will help,” I point out.

Azalea’s pretty green eyes narrow at me. “No one asked for your opinion, Gilly.” She opens the door to the locker room and I look at Maxine, who shrugs and heads to her cubby to get out armor.

? ? ?

Like every other room at FTRS, our gym has gotten a makeover for Royal Day. Silk banners hang from each wall touting our various sports teams (Magic Carpet Racing! Castle Storming! Synchronized Snake Charming!). A banquet table sits along the back wall, covered with a silk tablecloth and bouquets of lilies. Professor Harlow has changed out of her gown and is wearing fitted fencing gear with a tiara replacing her helmet.

I see Jax, Ollie, and the other boys in our class emerge from the boys’ dressing room, and I make a beeline for them. I yank Jax away from Ollie without explanation.

“Have you heard what’s been happening all morning?” I say, sounding shrill. “It’s got to have something to do with Madame Cleo’s prediction!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a knot,” Jax says. “It’s probably just a coincidence.”

Is Jax daft? “Something is definitely going on! Flora has to be behind it, or Jocelyn—she knew about the gargoyles. What if Flora is planning to burn down her own school?”

I look around the room worriedly. Jocelyn and Harlow are talking quietly in a corner, and Headmistress Flora is chatting with Princess Snow. I glance at the Royal Ladies-in-Waiting. They’re handing the princesses baskets of flowers. Sleeping Beauty is watching us, but Snow is stifling a yawn and Rapunzel is holding an ice bag to her nose, which is a nasty shade of blue. Okay, nothing unusual at the moment, but something has to be up. I need dirt on someone—and quick. I’ve got to get out of this place and back to my brothers and sisters while I’m still in one piece to do it!

“This is why I told you to only worry about yourself.” Jax runs a hand through his hair. “I should have bailed when I had the chance myself.” I glare at him. He’s not helping. “At least Flora called in the Dwarf Police Squad for the rest of the day.”

I look at Pete and Olaf and resist the urge to blurt out, “I didn’t do it.”

“Fencers, please get in position,” Azalea interrupts, handing us each a sword.