Tara Collins and the Mage's Awakening

My name is Tara Collins, and I'm fifteen years old. Until a few months ago, I was a junior at Pleasant Valley High School, a typical public high school in Southern California. Was it so bad? Well, I guess you could say school wasn’t always a positive experience. Not that it has ever been great for me or anything. I’ve had my share of humiliating experiences. My first year of high school started with being outcast by my peers as the nerd for skipping a grade in middle school and going straight in as a sophomore. I’ve had globs of gum thrown in my hair countless times, and I lost count of how many times I’ve been stuffed in a locker. Being sheepish didn’t help much either; I got nervous when it came to talking to classmates or trying to make friends. I wouldn’t say I was ugly, but I didn’t exactly embrace fashion trends all too well. I couldn’t apply makeup for my life, and trying on clothes that were “in” made me feel like I was playing dress-up. I had waist-long, feathery, dark brown hair that never lacked some form of frizz. Acne assaulted my oval face, and even though I was on the swim team, I couldn’t catch a tan for my life. I suppose my favorite feature about myself were my big brown eyes and my wit. My ability to hold my tongue and desire to avoid confrontation at all costs made me a soft target. School was never a warm and fuzzy experience, but things really started getting real bad last November, after our school hosted the winter ball. I was really hoping to just lay low and take it easy for my junior year, but fate had different plans. I typically didn’t worry about the trivial annoyances of school dances because I was never asked to go. And that was fine by me! It was a great time for me to curl up on the sofa and peruse through a book and sip on coffee. My best friend, Olivia, shared the same sentiments, so we usually hung out together on the school dance nights. We’d watch a movie or go shopping or even get our eyebrows done and have a sleepover. Olivia was small, dainty, and came off as an easy target. She cried when she got frustrated but was always friendly and bubbly when you met her. She must’ve skipped several grades because she was the only high school senior who looked very childlike and girlish. On top of that, it seemed like she was allergic to just about everything! Certain jewelry and metals made her break out in hives, and she'd get ill with the overwhelming cheap perfume in the locker rooms. But don’t let that fool you; she was very athletic. She was the star of the track team, and there was an unmatched grace in the way she took her strides. She was the absolute envy of the cheerleading and dance squads. Anyway, I kind of assumed we’d fall into the same groove for this dance, and Olivia sent me a text Sunday morning of the week of the dance, and sure enough, we made plans for Friday night. Seven hundred bodies crammed in a poorly decorated high school cafeteria for an evening of tacky dresses and venomous teenagers. I know-it sounds like t*****e. Most Pleasant Valley functions were. Monday morning rolled around, and I had a feeling that it was going to be a good day. I had all my assignments lined up and ready to be turned in and I was ready for swim practice that afternoon. I had pulled my long, dark brown hair into a French braid and opted for my favorite loose fitting, faded jeans and a black t-shirt. I threw on my trusty green flannel, and I was good to go. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror before catching the bus and I paused. My facial features looked slightly sharper and my typically dark brown eyes had changed to a warm honey hue. My skin was still as pale as ever but my acne was gone and my hair was smoother than usual. I decided to leave my hair down. I leaned towards the mirror and wondered if my skin routine was finally beginning to work. I rushed out the bathroom, shuffled down the hall, kissed my mom on the cheek and jogged out the door and onto the yellow, crowded bus that almost left without me. Maybe if I would have missed the bus, I wouldn’t have experienced the crisis that was yet to come. I sat down and started feeling like I was too warm and flushed. I chalked it up to rushing around this morning and tied my flannel around my waist while I cooled off. My senses felt more sensitive too and if I experienced strong emotions, I felt as though there were coals stirring deep in my belly. My lungs felt fiery and painful. But it was always for just an instant, so I thought nothing of it. I knew that if I told my mom about it, she would freak out and rush me to the doctor. I was fifteen and hormones were a thing. Or maybe I was experiencing heartburn. I figured it wasn’t anything worth mentioning. Olivia had her eyes glued to a book as she boarded the bus and plopped on the seat next to me. “I feel like I can re-read Pride and Prejudice over and over and never get tired of “ she finally looked at me. “Whoa,” Olivia eyed me cautiously “Tara you look different, do you feel okay?” “I feel great!” I took a bite out of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that my mom must have snuck into my bag. She pursed her lips “you don’t look so good.” I shot her a death glare. “Well, that’s not what I mean,” she blurted “I just want to be sure you’re not feeling sick is what I mean.” I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. I thought I looked fine, but her words made me second guess myself and honestly, my self-esteem took a hit. She sighed. I just stared out the window angrily. She’s never been one to rain on my parade so it caught me by surprise. The bus finally pulled up to the unloading spot and we hopped off. We shuffled through the halls and piled our books into our lockers.“I’m sorry Tara, I guess I just wanted to make sure you felt okay.” She slung her huge bag over her shoulder. She seemed oddly nervous. She shuffled her feet “I’d just skip swim practice today and I’d be a little wary about getting worked up toda-“ Suddenly, Oliva crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. A stray football ricocheted off the back of her head. “Ooops” Jessica cooed “we didn’t see ya there.” Jessica Zhang and her posse of banshees were on the cheerleading squad and were the bane of our existence. She strutted by in her signature blue cheerleader skirt and long sleeve top flanked by her friends and the pathetic football players they were stringing along. “I’m going to kill her,” I helped Olivia to her feet. “Shh it’s no big deal,” she dusted herself off and picked her bag from the floor “it was just a small thing. She didn’t see me.” I shot her a glance of 'are you kidding me right now?’ when I heard Jessica's hyena laugh come from the direction she had slinked off to. I gritted my teeth as my fingertips tingled and the heat began to build up in my chest again. Deep breaths, Tara. Deep breaths I thought. Today is supposed to be a good day. The bell rang and everyone scurried off to their classes. Olivia readjusted her hair “Tara, I think you should call in sick today.” “What are you talking about?” I shut my locker and spun the combination lock “I feel great. And I have a ton of assignments to turn in and I can’t afford to miss out on any of it. I look fine. What is your problem, Liv?” I slammed my locker door shut. The paint on the locker was sizzling and bubbling where my hand had just been. Bystanders started to look at us. Olivia took a deep breath “Fine but promise me that if you don’t feel okay during class you’ll go to the office.” I rolled my eyes “You’re worse than my mom, Liv.” Jessica's shoulder black, shoulder length hair laid limp and pin straight. You could see the flat iron marks in the front and some unruly strands she had missed in the back. I felt the coals coming alive in my chest. This can not be happening I thought as I took deep breaths. She grabbed the back of Oliva's collar and that's when I saw red. I don't remember what happened but when I came to, Jessica was rolling around on the floor like a worm, about ten feet away. Her uniform was charred and her hair was sizzling! I coughed and embers escaped from my mouth. What the --? Olivia's mouth was wide open and she just stared at me. My history teacher, Mr. Yamamoto, rushed out of the nearby classroom "What is going on?" Jessica cried "TARA PUSHED ME AND SET ME ON FIRE!" ....excuse me?