The Ravenwood Legacy

1

      I was victorious! Vic-ficken-torious. I tested out of Advanced Potions 101. When I walked through the house I jumped up and smacked the archway that lead into the kitchen. Mom and Dad were sitting in the greatroom with grim looks on their faces. Mom had her laptop on her lap as always and Dad had his tablet in his. Something about their silence made my stomach turn with fright.

      “Ezzy don’t fret,” My father whispered to my mother placing a kiss on her cheek and smoothing some of her dark hair behind her ear. She had been crying, her makeup ran a little making her look a little older than she really was.

      “I just don’t get it,” she growled fiecly in spite of the tears that fell freely. ”We didn’t do anything.”

      “Mom?” I asked stopping at the railing that separated the kitchen from that living space.

      “It’s nothing, sweetpea,” she sighed and wiped her eyes before standing, and wrapping her cardigan tighter around her like she did when worried.

      “Is it Nanny?”

      “No, Nanny’s fine,” she forced a smile and rubbed the back of her neck.

      “C’mere, Violent Violet. Plop a squat,” dad slapped the space on the couch between them.

      “I’m going to start packing, no point in waiting,” my mother grumbled before storming off.

      “Ezz,” my father called after her, but she didn’t answer.

      All of the silence and secrecy made me tense.

      “How was school?”

      “It was great, I kicked that potion’s test’s ass.”

      “Language.”

      “Butt, I kicked its butt.”

      “I knew you would.” He reached out and tussled my hair.

      “What’s wrong with mom? Are we moving? Did I hear that right? Because things are finally working out I’ll have you know!”

      “I…” he sighed and looked at his tablet for a few moments sweeping his finger across the screen to pull up an email. “Remember Aunt Isabella? You haven’t seen her since you and Evange were kiddos.”

      “Yeah, remember Dad there’s this thing called facebook.” I rolled my eyes and he shouldered me a little.

      “Well, something…questionable happened and we’re being… removed from Willow Hill.”

      “Removed?”

      “Remember when your friend Trevor had to move away two years ago?”

      “Yeah, his mom got some job in New York.”

      “No, his father was involved with some questionable activity and the elders cast a vote and decided to distance the community from them.”

      “Wait? Is that what they’re doing to us? I thought this was the United States?!”

      “Yes, this is the United States but Willow Hill is a closed community, Sweetpea. We abide by the Council Elders the same way that our parents did and their parents.”

      “But Nana’s on Council!”

      “I know. But there’s nothing that can be done. All she could do is get us an extra day to leave.”

      “But why can’t we stay with Nana or Nanny?”

      “What the fuck!” My fraternal twin sister squealed as she slammed the door and ran into the kitchen still in her cheerleader uniform, her sandy blonde hair perfectly curled and coiffed.

      “Evangelina Willow Wildes!”

      “They told me to clean out my locker and leave. I’m head cheerleader, I don’t think you realize what that means!” She pointed at her chest, “I’m a junior and the head varsity cheerleader! I’ve worked for this like my whole life and then they just told me to leave. The game had just started and they told me that I was no longer welcome that I was a traitor.” She was in hysterics; her makeup ran down her face in heavy black lines as her face twisted in agony. We were twins but we weren’t identical.

      She was shorter than I was with a slightly bigger nose and paler hair, her eyes were blue and mine were grey, and considered the better looking one. But she was the princess, the varsity cheerleader who dated the quarterback who was prom queen her sophomore year and did everything right like every teenager on television.

      “It might not seem like it now, but this is for the best. Nana pulled some strings, we have an extra day to pack and then we’re moving to Hawethorne Grove, which is supposed to be a great area. There’s a nice local music scene from what I remember, and tons of snooty rich kids who wear designer clothes that you’ll fit right in with. And you and Violet will get to go to Ravenwood Academy. Our family helped found the school, so you get to look at an old ass oil painting of an ancestor on the wall. But the community is mostly normal now, minus a few prominent old families. But It’s only two years.”

      “I was going to marry Laurent!” My sister shrieked stamping her foot. “And I can’t now! I can’t even say goodbye, he blocked my number!”

      “Sweetheart,” he called after Evangelina as she stormed off slamming doors in her wake. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Violent Violet,” he said to me with a sad smile.

      “Are we going to get certified?” That was the only thing that really bothered me. I was sad about losing my friends, but certification was a big deal for us magic users it was what really made you an adult.

      “Of course, I wouldn’t do that to you guys. Nana said that the Crowley family runs a society there that will finish your training and it’ll only be a few hours after school. I already e-mailed them about Evange’s cheerleading and I’m sure they’ll work around it since you two are so advanced.” He spoke to the tablet not raising his eyes the entire time. It was clear he was hurting, he would have to leave everything behind his job at the paper, the community he grew up in.

      “What happened?”

      “Aunt Iris wrote an editorial about council that was… condemning. She sent it in anonymously but they found out she sent it. Nana is only saved from everything because of her community ties, but her friends could only do so much. We have to move because they know I’m close with your aunt. There’s nothing to be afraid of, your mom grew up around Normals and you know she goes out and travels to normal towns for her book tours and conventions.”

      “I know. I’m bummed but, I’m not going to throw a fit and fall in it like Evange.”

      “No, you’ll go and write some damning poetry about it, or a song. All I ask is that you don’t put it on Youtube. My reputation on the indie scene just couldn’t handle it.” He laughed a little and looked up from his tablet looking happy for the first time since I came in.