Surprised 2: Am I GOING to the Faerie Academy?

“Morning, Cynthia,” Lori said the morning after my banana cream party.

      “Morning, Lori,” I said. It was very unusual to have Lori this cheery (for fire faeries, I mean) during winter.

      “What are you so happy about?” I blurted out. This... wasn’t Lori.

      As usual, Lori ignored me. “So, how was the banana cream party yesterday?”

      “Fine,” I said.

      “‘Fine’ isn’t very reassuring, you know,” Lori answered, “but I’ll live with it. I go back the Faerie Academy in a week! Aren’t you going to be so happy... that I’m gone?” Lori’s tone suddenly changed. “You’ll go back to your parents... and you won’t come back until next summer.” With that Lori began to weep.

      I swallowed. “Uh, Lori, don’t you have homework to do?”

      That got Lori’s attention. “Right!” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “And... pack while you’re waiting for lunch, okay, Cynthia?”

      She left with a flash and I went upstairs and sighed. How many clothes would I have to go through? I went to my room, which was a mess. Lori didn’t want to mess up her room, so she studied in my room. So it was basically littered with scratch paper.

      I sighed and picked up a pair of pajamas. It had MYNCI written all over with blue, green, purple, and other colored Myncies on it. I sighed and shoved it into my suitcase.

      ***

      I was disturbed halfway through my packing when I heard Lori’s voice muttering to herself. She must be writing a Neomail. I sneaked out and peered in from her door.

      “‘Dear Cynthia’s Mom,’” Lori whispered aloud, “‘I was wondering if Cynthia could help the lunch faerie at the Faerie Academy. Cynthia says she doesn’t really fit in when she comes with you; and if she stays with me at the Faerie Academy, she could stay in my dorm. Is that okay? I’ve checked with Fyora and she said if it’s okay with you. I really hope that you agree.

      “‘So, you know where to find my address if you forget it, and please accept. You must know what this means to me. From, Lori.’”

      I silently made my way back to my room, but my mind wasn’t silent at all. Why in the name of Fyora does Lori want to bring me with her? I wondered. I’m nothing special... or am I? After all, she had the cheery look on her face this morning...

      “Cynthia.”

      I flew to my feet and looked at the fire faerie, which a wisp of fire had formed in her hands. It flickered whenever she was a little too soft. “Listen, Cynthia, I was asking your mom if...”

      “If I could come with you to the Faerie Academy because you wanted to me around so badly because I’m annoying?” I guessed hopefully (well, it really wasn’t a guess, but who cares?). “I mean... I might go with you... will I?”

      “Scoundrel,” Lori muttered to herself, and the flame in her hands danced with purple tips like the tips of a faerie Pteri. “Were you spying on me, Cynthia? Are you a crazy... Xweetok?” she asked. “If you were, I’m going to burn your room.”

      I wanted to say no, but some courage built up inside of me so I was goaded on to say what I meant. “I... did spy on you. You shouldn’t have been talking so loud. It’s not my fault at all. So be quiet.” I turned away and began packing more clothes.

      I felt a heat rise in my behind and I yelped. I tried frantically to burn the flames out with my paws, but with a wave of Lori’s hand, the fire burned out, leaving me with singing hairs and smoke rising from my battered behind.

      “You’re crazier than Jhudora!” I told her. “She was a flat-headed person, but you’ve got no head at all! Ow-wow-wow.”

      “Exactly, Cynthia,” Lori droned. “We’re going to the Faerie Academy together, either you like it or not.”

    ***

       A day later, a letter from my mom returned. Lori and I huddled together, wondering what the letter would say. Lori peered closely, and finally found out what the “fancy handwriting” was and deciphered it correctly. Her eyes twinkled as she read it aloud.

      Dear Cynthia and Lori,

      I feel very sad that I will not see my precious daughter, but seeing her happy warms my heart the most. If she wishes to go, she may go. But if she doesn’t... then she will come to me. Am I clear? After all, my dear Cynthia, every mother wants their child happy.

      Being a lunch lady helper? I don’t mind at all. I hope your dorm isn’t messy from the last time you visited it; that’s what worries me most (sort of). If you don’t mind, during the weekends I’ll come to the Academy and see her, unless I have something going on. Oh yes, Lori, don’t be a hothead around her; after all, you’ll be sleeping in the Fire Faerie Tower.

      Well, I must wish you good luck with the Faerie Academy. I must leave; your father is calling me, Cynthia. Thank you, Lori, for making Cynthia happy.

      From, Hyacinth

      We both gazed at the letter for a few seconds more. It was Lori who spoke first. “Well! I guess the packing did you some good after all. We have only a week to go. Oh yes, and don’t forget; you’re going to have to buy some extra pajamas in case they get incinerated.”

      I laughed at her sarcasm, which wasn’t very sarcastic. I sort of knew my pajamas could get incinerated, but that happens when you’re at the Fire Faerie Tower.

      “Did you ever lose a pair or two?” I asked her.

      Lori shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if somebody incinerated one, but I did lose a pair one morning when Ivone was angry at me. Oh yes; packing. Um...”

      I asked Lori, “What should I do to... I don’t know, help?”

      Before Lori could answer, our mailman came back only five minutes later. “Mail! Sorry; Fyora told me about another letter I missed.” He held out a postcard. “It’s from a strange ‘admirer’.” He winked at me, as if he knew something and then continued, “Lori, this is for Cynthia only.”

      I grabbed the postcard. Lori scowled at me and gripped my arm. I jumped. “Ouch!” I yelped for the second time that week. Her fire-likeness made her hands hot. I looked at her. “Why in the name of the line of fire faeries did you do that?”

      Lori peered at me again and muttered, “Why are you always cared for?”

      I opened the letter. I read it aloud: “Beware of the future.” I looked everywhere for a signature, but all it said was: 103636, Faerie Lane, Faerieland. Other than that, it was just a blank piece of paper. I looked at Lori. “What do you think it means?”

      “Oh.” Lori shrugged, but she must have changed her mind because she said, “Oh, maybe you’ll get an F- on one of your tests someday. Then you’ll get kicked out of school – hey, hey! If that happens, I’m going to throw a party... wait, strike that, reverse it. I’m going to incinerate all of your stuff!” She cackled evilly. Then in mid-cackle she coughed. I snickered, but Lori gave me a sinister glance and I decided to shut up.

      “Anyway,” Lori said, “we go to that revolting school in a week; oh yippee! I can’t wait till we get there!” To say “Bye,” she simply heated up my paw and then skipped away.

      I can’t wait to go to that revolting school.

    ***

      I loved serving Lori stuff she hated, like macaroni and cheese, roasted beef, and stuff like that. She simply made a face at me and took it; but I could tell she wasn’t going to look forward for me to sleep in her dorm in the hothead tower anytime soon.

      The lunch lady told me to call her Evelyn. Evelyn was a Soup Faerie, and normally she would give out random soups to faeries. She said that twice a week, any day, I could give Lori a soup, a dish, or a finger food she hated. It was just fun to hear Lori groaning about being so hungry and wishing she could’ve eaten something at night. I also loved to make one of Evelyn’s recipes: the “Peanut Butter Chocolate Jelly Lupe Soup”. It was like pieces of peanut butter chocolate-flavored jelly lupes! I was so happy that I could torture Lori that I didn’t mind when she burned one of my favourite cauldrons.

      When the night Friday came the week before spring break, I rolled over and looked at Lori. She groaned and twitched in her sleep, so I decided to go down to the kitchen and leave some hamburger with pickles, mustard, and ketchup in it.

      She’d hate that.

The End