Page 42 of Asher

Why?

Why couldn’t I just live in my dreams?

Was there a way to make that happen?

You know, like inCharmedand the episode called theDream Sorcerer.

But I don’t want to die in the dream.

Ugh... why couldn’t I be a witch?

My phone beeped with a message.

Knowing who it was, I felt like the crappiest friend that was ever born.

Stella and I had become friends in the second grade.

Some mean girls had been picking on her for wearing black motorcycle boots and having her hair all wild.

Honestly, I thought she looked like the coolest kid I had ever seen.

And when I heard them calling her biker trash, biker whore, and stroker girl, I had gotten mad.

And seeing as I had my daddy’s temper and my mamma’s temper, it wouldn’t go well for those two girls.

I took the persona of aSeñora del Fuegowhen my temper was riled.

Fire lady. I loved calling myself that.

See, my daddy was third-generation Irish, and my mama was a fourth-generation Mexican American.

I looked like my mama.

Soft, dark brown hair, tanned skin, button nose, short stature, curves in all the right places.

And the only thing of my daddy’s... his eyes. Green. But not just any color of green, it was a cross between sage and the brightest emerald. The most perfect color ever created if you wanted my opinion on the matter.

So, when you combine my mama and my daddy, I have a temper that can rival a sailor.

That was why I climbed down the monkey bars, clenched my fists, and stormed over to the girls.

Without thinking, I shoved myself bodily in between them and then got into their faces.

My Spanish was in full force as I said,“Lleva tu maldad a otra parte. Eres una bruja fea.”

The ring leader, Veronica, opened her mouth to say something, but that was when one of the teachers walked over and said, “Okay, okay. Let’s break it up.

I looked up at her and snapped, “You should have been over here breaking it up instead of messing with your phone.” And she had been. I had watched her.

She looked at me and snapped back, “Go to the office. Now.” I nodded, then turned to look at the girl.

I held out my hand to her and said, “I’m Chloe. You are?”

She smiled, placed her hand in mine, and shook it once, twice, then said, “Hi, Chloe. I’m Stella. What did you say?”

I grinned, ignoring the teacher who was getting irritated with me, and said, “I told her to take your nastiness somewhere else. And I called her an ugly witch.”

I had gone to the office to wait on my mama.