The School Years Complete Collection. Soman Chainani

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      “I told you to pay attention!” Agatha shouted as they waited in pouring rain after Yuba’s class for wolves to open the gates.

      “Between sewing new outfits, brewing new makeup, preparing new lectures, I can’t worry about class!” Sophie sobbed under a black parasol. “I have my fans to think about!”

      “Of which you now have none!” Agatha yelled. She could see Hester smirking at her from the Group 6 huddle. “Three bottom ranks and you fail, Sophie! I don’t know how you’ve survived this long!”

      “They don’t let me fail! No matter how bad I am! Why do you think I stopped studying!”

      Agatha tried to make sense of this, but couldn’t focus with her fingertip burning. Ever since Yuba unlocked it, it glowed whenever she was angry, as if raring to do a spell.

      “But how did you get all those high ranks before?” she said, hiding her hand in her pocket.

      “That was before they made us read. I mean, do I look like I care how to poison a comb, how to pluck toad eyes, or how to say ‘May I cross your bridge’ in Troll? Here I am trying to improve these villains and you want me to memorize the recipe for Children Noodle Soup? Agatha, did you know that to boil a child you have to wrap them in parchment first? Otherwise they won’t be properly cooked and might wake up in your pot. Is that what you want me to learn? How to hurt and kill? How to be a witch?”

      “Listen, you need to win back respect—”

      “Through intentional Evil? No. Shan’t.”

      “Then we’re doomed,” Agatha snapped. Sophie exhaled angrily and turned away.

      Suddenly her expression changed. “What in the—”

      She gawked at the Evers ranking board, tacked to the gates.

      “But—but—you’re … you!” Sophie cried.

      “And I do my homework!” Agatha barked. “I don’t want to learn dove calls or practice fainting or sew handkerchiefs, but I’ll do whatever it takes to get us home!”

      But Sophie wasn’t listening. A naughty grin spread across her face.

      Agatha crossed her arms. “No way. First of all, teachers will catch us.”

      “You’ll love my Curses homework, it’s all about tricking princes—and you hate boys!”

      “Second, your roommates will tell on you—”

      “And you’ll love my Uglification homework! We’re learning to scare children—and you hate children!”

      “If Tedros finds out, we’re dead—”

      “And look at your finger! It glows when you’re upset! I can’t do that!”

      “It’s a fluke!”

      “Look, it’s even brighter now! You’re born to be a vill—”

      Agatha stomped. “WE’RE NOT CHEATING!”

      Sophie fell silent. Wolves unlocked the Blue Forest gates and students surged into the tunnels.

      Neither Sophie nor Agatha moved.

      “My roommates say I’m 100% Evil,” Sophie said softly. “But you know the truth. I don’t know how to be Evil. Not even 1%. So please don’t ask me to go against my own soul, Agatha. I can’t.” Her voice caught. “I just can’t.”

      She left Agatha under the umbrella. As Sophie joined the herd, the storm rinsed the sheen out of her hair, the glitter off her skin until Agatha couldn’t tell her from the other villains. Guilt flushed through her, burning her finger bright as the sun. She hadn’t told Sophie the truth. She had the same idea to do Sophie’s Evil work and squashed it. Not because she was afraid she’d get caught.

      She was afraid she might like it. All 100%.

      That night, Sophie had nightmares. Tedros kissing goblins, Agatha crawling from a well with cupid wings, Hester’s demon chasing her through sewers, until the Beast rose out of dark water, bloody hands snatching, and Sophie lunged past him and locked herself in the Doom Room. Only there was a new torturer waiting. Her father in a wolf mask.

      Sophie jolted awake.

      Her roommates were fast asleep. She sighed, nestled into her pillow—and bolted back up.

      There was a cockroach on her nose.

      She started to scream—

      “It’s me!” the roach hissed.

      Sophie closed her eyes. Wake up, wake up, wake up.

      She opened them. It was still there.

      “What’s my favorite muffin?” she wheezed.

      “Flourless blueberry bran,” the roach spat. “Any more stupid questions?”

      Sophie picked the bug off her nose. It had the same bulging eyes and sunken cheeks.

      “How in the world—”

      “Mogrification. We’ve been learning it for two weeks. Meet me in the common room.”

      Agatha the Cockroach glared back as she skittered СКАЧАТЬ