When the Thursday morning of the Great Confrontation comes, I wake up late for class. No surprise there. Being a pile of nerves the previous night didn’t help me fall asleep.

I jump off my bed, my heart a nerve-ticking bomb and count mentally. I’ll be late for math class for the third time in a mouth.

I throw a quick glance at the clock on the wall. It's 7:52 am when I start stuffing my backpack with whatever notebooks I set eyes on my desk. I throw it to my back with a swift swing. Class start in eight minutes.

I bolt downstairs, and out of the house, somehow, still hopeful the school bus that was supposed to be at the bus stop half an hour ago would be there. The confirmation comes as soon as I step outside the yard: no sign of the bus, or any another car.

I'm off for an anxious, thirty-minute walk to school. I rush my steps along the tenth street, jumping out of my skin from the fright as soon as I turn at the intersection. I step back, almost involuntarily, my eyes widening with shock and fright. Cindy is here.

"Hello," he says casually, like he didn't just give me a heart-attack.

"Jesus," I can't help a yell of frustration, "can't you warn me when you're going to appear like that?" I ask with a palm gripping my t-shirt against my chest.

"In need of some help?" he asks, slightly uneasy, judging by the way his fingers fumble with his hair. I can imagine a blush under the coat of make-up he is wearing. That surprises me.

A sharp snap of fingers follows, then his magic wand is trapped between his fingers, light dissipating in the surrounding emptiness. He looks at me with his lips pursed, his wand raised, waiting for an answer from me.

There is no way to be on time for Mrs. Gilbert class if I walked. I do not want to risk having to give Lia a convocation for being late for the third time being this month.

I swallow hard, then nod bashfully. "Okay," I say. “Just—,”

Cindy swings his stick, before I’m able to finish my sentence, drawing a gleaming light in the air that thickens until it resembles a veil covering me. The brightness overcomes my vision and I'm light as a feather, vibrating and flying along a tunnel whose walls are stars upon stars in colors I cannot name.

The next thing I know, I'm in school. But instead of being in the classroom, I'm in the garden in the back of the building of Belfort High, inside a bunch of shrubs. There are more leaves than I can count covering that partly hid the brick-colored building from my view. And twigs stab me in all directions.

The Contract, the magic, and Cindy being my fairy Godmother... All of them are definitely real, but as I stay there, trapped inside the core of shrubs, I'm starting to think he isn't as talented with his magic as I first thought. That would explain the ruined bicycle episode.

I stay there still for seconds, contemplating which way to take to get out of this mess with the least scratches and tears on my clothes.

All it takes is the ringing of the bell, and I jump out of the shrubs carelessly, then I rush along the hallways and enter the classroom out of breath.

I push the door open out of breath to Face Mrs. Gilbert at her desk, looking back at me from thick glasses that seem to give her quadruple eyes that seem to be screaming you lost. All this effort to be late in the end. Mrs. Gilbert shakes her head. I walk bashfully to my seat.

I’ve always known she was evil. Even when she used to like me. Lately she has been giving me mixed signs. Probably something to do with that C minus I got on her last test. I try not to think about and keep walking to my seat.

I spot a few muffled smirks across the classroom, but I ignore them and sit beside Mara. She's not looking at me, but she can barely contain her grin.

When she looks at me her chubby cheeks are burning from laughing. She pushes her blonde hair behind her shoulder and mouths, "What the hell?"

I lean on my desk, narrowing my eyes because I'm having trouble reading her lips.

Touching her hair, she mutters, "The leaves."

I grab bits of leaves off my hair. "Thanks," I say, my face flushing. That’s the reason for the amusement then.

I would tell Mara what happened. She's my best friend and we shared everything. But judging by her reaction when I told her about the golden bracelet, that wouldn't amount to much. Both the bracelet and Cindy are invisible to the rest of the world.

Mara's theory is that my fear of solving the real issue is making me come up with all the magical excuses. The real issue is confronting Jord, for starters.

She is right that I don't want to address it, but what is there to address anyway? Everything is pretty clear to me. Jord lured me, got my hopes up and blew me off. I was stupid enough to fall for it.

I guess it's too late to reason with her now, since she's already convinced me to talk to Jord later today. Knowing Mara, I can't argue enough to dissuade her. Also, deep down I know she's right.

From her desk, Mara aims me a smile. I know what it means. It's both a smile of reassurance and confirmation that she will act according to our agreement last weekend. And I see my theory come to reality that afternoon after the last period.

As soon as the bell rings, she leads me by the hand to the grand gymnasium. She's grabbing me by the hand, making me a bit uneasy. Many people are staring at us. But none of this discourages her. At some point a quit fighting against her lead to the poetry club.

She leads me down the end of the main hall of the school. That's where the gymnasium is and where the poetry club reunites once a week. The plan was originally to get there before the beginning of their session, but it doesn't seem like a day to be on time for me. The session has already started.

There are at least already ten people gathering in the middle of the basketball court when we arrive. Jord is there too.

We both throw a glance at the oval window giving a view of the interior of the gym. Then we face each other. Are we really doing this?

Jord's dressed in his uniform: a dark blue top, sleeveless, and bottoms with the number 72 in red. His ball rests next to him, and he plays with it almost absentmindedly, like it's a part of him. Something like a big extra, orange and spherical hand. Not more or less a part of him than the smile he is casting to the girl next to him. I wish It was me at the receiving end of that smile.

"Don't worry about her," Mara says, "I don't think she's his type. Or anyone's." She laughs.

I inspect the girls uncombed brown hair and her baggy clothes. She smiles to Jord and says something close to his ear. Jord does the same. They laugh. And I feel like the acid in my stomach is digging a hole inside me.

Mara pats my back shortly, then pulls her phone out of her pocket. "I would love to stay, but we're a bit late. Can't wait until the end of the session. I have to go help my mom take care of her kitchen stuff," she says. "Promise me you'll talk to him." I nod and she walks away.

When her steps aren't audible in the halls anymore a deep voice resounds behind me. "So, she's Mara. The one who dares to be doubtful about my powers." Cindy touches my shoulders and I have to keep myself from groaning. "Way to welcome your dear fairy Godmother. I'm very happy to see you, too," he says with an ironic tone.

The neon green hair he wore the last time he appeared to me is now replaced by a deep red, undulated on the edges. His plastic, black outfit sticks to his skin and shines like fresh tar hit by sunlight.

"You know you shouldn't just appear like this, right?" I murmur looking back inside the gymnasium.

"But you're the only one who can see me," he says impatiently, "I already told you." Now he's murmuring too. He looks inside the gym for a while. "I don't blame you though. He's cute. And your friend was right about him not being into the girl with the baggy yellow shirt," he says. "How can I help you to get him to come outside to talk to you?" He ponders, taping a finger on his chin.

Cindy pulls his magic wand from his hair and presses the tip of the stick of wood at the base of his blood-red lips. "I can make the others deaf for a moment, then make something explode outside, he'll be the only one to get outside the gym to check and you'll get to talk to him."

I roll my eyes. He can't be serious. "Just don't do anything Cindy. I can handle this."

He sighs. "My boss wouldn't have picked me to help you and you wouldn't have signed The Contract in that case," he protests. "You have to let me do my work, Jay."

Before I'm able to protest, we hear steps behind me. Cindy is nowhere to be seen when I turn around. Rafael is standing in front of me. His green eyes seem to pierce through his square glasses and shoot laser beams at me.

"I could swear I heard you having a conversation with someone," he says with a casual tone that throws me off a bit. It had been at least two years that we hadn't exchanged a word. We're basically strangers to one another.

I shake my head, but I can't bring myself to form a coherent sentence.

"Anyways, I didn't know you liked to spy on the poetry club," he muses.

"No, no. It's not. I'm not a spy," I say, and he narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side in a questioning way. "I'm actually interested in poetry and I was thinking about maybe coming to see how the club works. I mean, I know the kind of things you do, but like. I mean. . ."

He clicks his briefcase open as I go about my empty rambling and pulls out a sheet then begins scribbling on it. "This is the inscription form if you'd like to be a member." He hands it to me. "I've just signed it."

Maybe he senses that I've been bluffing so he adds, "You don't have to decide now or even fill it, but you have to be present at one session at least, then you have all the time you need to decide whether to come back again. We've had lots of people sign up in the the school year but never once attended a session. So--"

He smiles tightly even though he seems disappointed. "Anyway, I'm late. Gotta go." He pulls the door open. "So, you're coming?"