| | | | | “Fiona! Fiona! Stop reading! Pay attention!” my math teacher ordered.
I was still sucked into the world of my book. It is good to read, but you could say I read too much. I read during class, and every second I can. Usually I don’t get caught in my classes, except for when, we take a test and I don’t pick up my pencil, a teacher calls on me and somehow I sort of, like, sleepwalk to the front of the class, holding my book in front of my face, or the teachers just notice my book and me reading it. The worst class for reading is math. Somehow, even though I sit in the very back, the teacher still notices. I guess she found out I’d be reading like this, the first week of school.
So, back to what was happening. “Oh. Um. Sorry.” I put my book away and tried to pay attention to the lesson. It was just too hard. I couldn’t help thinking about my book. I wish I could escape from school as easily as the character in my book. Then, after that thought, I started daydreaming about what would happen if I could escape.
I daydreamed that I’d run away, to somewhere much colder than where I live. Okay, I guess everyone wants Arizona to be colder, much colder, but I want it to be the most. Class was over now and I hadn’t learned anything except for that I wanted to escape from where I live.
I wish I knew my last name. My parents died or just gave me up for adoption. I know I was adopted. No one knew who my parents were, or my last name. The people who adopted me didn’t tell me their last name either. All I knew was that their first names were, Sylvia and Malistaire. If only Malistaire was home more. Sylvia would say he was off at work whenever I asked where he was. I had a feeling she was lying. A bad reason about not having a last name is that the teachers always mix up your report cards. I’m always getting Fiona Miller’s report card. She has a last name. Why are they always giving mine, to her? I’ve never met anyone else named Fiona until I came here. I was kicked out of many schools and never met anyone named Fiona. Why was I kicked out, you ask . . . many strange happenings.
I went home now in a very cold car. The car was as cold as it could be and Sylvia seemed to be freezing up. I didn’t mind though. It was better than outside. Malistaire was at home. He just got home from a month of work. I was very happy to see him when I got home. I tried my best to do my super hard homework. I did know how to do one hundred fifty six minus two hundred thirty two, but I was thinking of my book. My mind went blank. After an hour, I finally solved it. I decided to take a break, so I went outside and read my book.
After half an hour, Sylvia asked me to come help with dinner. I happily came to help, leaving my book out here because I’d certainly be back out. I felt a drop of water, very cold water. It was probably one of those starts of rain that never happen. I finished helping Sylvia with what she needed help with and went back outside.
“Woah! This can’t be real.” I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself. It was real. There was five inches of snow and it was still snowing. I couldn’t find my book. It was probably buried under the snow. I dug through the snow where my book was. My hands didn’t even feel cold, not one part of me did. Except my hair, somehow my sparky, red, hair felt very cold. My book wasn’t under the snow there.
“Hmm. Gamma, this might not be the one,” I heard someone say. I looked past the corner of my house and saw an old man and an owl. The old man had a long, white, beard, wore a monocle over his right eye, and his clothes weren’t what you’d see every day. They were purple with yellow stars and he was wearing robes. There was an owl wearing a purple hat with yellow starts too, perched on the old man’s shoulder, and it was also wearing . . . GLASSES! The old man had my book open to the page that says, ‘This Book Belongs To Fiona.’
“Um. Excuse me. Who are you?” I asked.
“Whooooo?” the owl said. It seemed like normal owl talk, but I started to think he was actually talking.
I walked closer to the two, feeling shy, and said, “Both of you.”
The old man introduced himself first. “I’m Merle Ambrose. You may call be Headmaster Ambrose. This owl here is my pet,--“
“Gamma.” The owl actually talked! “I can introduce myself,” Gamma mumbled quietly to Headmaster Ambrose.
“Well, I figured if she heard you talk, she wouldn’t listen,” Headmaster Ambrose said again, quietly.
“Headmaster? So you have a boarding school?” I asked.
“Um . . . um. Who’s living with you?” Headmaster Ambrose asked.
“My parents, Malistaire and Sylvia,” I answered.
“Good people they are. Then you must be Fiona. I must ask, what is your last name?”
“I’m not sure. I never knew,” I answered.
“Then you must be The Lost One,” the headmaster said.
“I think you’re holding back on something.”
“Okay. Yes. Have strange things ever happen to you?” Ambrose quizzed.
“Yes, yes, many. In preschool, all the tables got frosted, in kindergarten, I met an icy blue dog, first grade, a kid always getting us in trouble, froze, when I was about to punch him, second grade my spelling test, went up in flames, when I went camping in third grade, I touched a pile of wood and made a fire. I made the first skating rink at my swimming pool, fifth grade, I melted my teacher’s desk, and now in sixth grade, this snow,” I answered.
“Ah. Very rare. Um. I don’t know how you’re going to take this. You’re a wizard Fiona.”
“Uh . . . uh. You’re joking . . . right?” I said.
“No. I am not. You’ve got the power of ice and fire. I think I know who your family is. Your mom is ice and your dad, fire. You are part of the Legendthorn family,” Ambrose announced.
My last name! I knew my last name! Fiona Legendthorn, that sounded cool, like I was going to be a legend. “Okay. How do I do magic? When do I start?” I asked.
“You have to get enrolled in Ravenwood School of Magic. Your parents have signed the paper, so just put this information in and have Malistaire and Sylvia also sign.” Merle handed me a paper and pen. I filled out the needed information and brought it inside for Malistaire and Sylvia. They signed quickly, seeming to already know what Ravenwood was. I brought it back to Merle.
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