Author's Note

Writers are always interested in talking about their writing (in my experience at least). If anyone reading this is interested, Holyoak Five's Tumblr will also be a place for me to post about the process of writing this story as well as dropping tidbits of information about the world of WCH and our lovely heroines.

For now, I'll be keeping this blog as a story-only place for those who prefer not to have authors interfere with their worlds. Follow each according to your wishes.

Until the next episode...

Episode Five: Toil and Trouble

“So, Dana, what does your dad do? I mean, what kind of business does he run?”

I froze with a spoonful of cornflakes halfway to my mouth, and stared at September.

I thought last night’s ice breaker had turned out pretty well, all things considered. I had to scramble to cover up my mistake, of course, but everyone seemed relieved when I said wanting to go to Salem was my lie. Everyone except September. She was the only one who kept looking at me after I’d finished speaking. At the time, I did my best to ignore her and focus on the next game Dean Dobronravov introduced. But with only the five of us at the breakfast table this morning, it was a lot harder to ignore her gaze.

I gulped down the cornflakes and tried to appraise the look on her face. She knew. Somehow she knew what my real lie was! With the Dean’s lie, I just thought she was good with accents, but how did she know the truth about my dad…?

“He, uh…” I raced to think faster than the early hour really allowed for. “He owns a restaurant,” I said. I dropped my spoon back into my cereal and focused on finishing breakfast as quickly as possible.

The other girls perked up a bit at my announcement.

“That’s so cool,” Angelica said – the first time I’d heard her speak since she’d stumbled into the Honeybee House’s kitchen in her pajamas, bleary-eyed and reaching for the coffee. Since she was now on her second cup, I supposed she’d finally woken up. “My dad’s in the restaurant business too!” she said, and my chest constricted. “What kind of food does his place have?”

Episode Four: Poetry and Tact

Amidst the insanity of us all scrambling to pick up our mingled luggage, I’d managed to snag the best bedroom in the house. September and Echo ended up with the other bedrooms on the second floor while Angelica, Nicola, and myself had dashed up the stairs to check out the third floor. Like the second, there was a communal living room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms. I managed to get a look at all three before choosing the largest. Happily, it had a bay window that faced east as well as a beautiful brick and mortar fireplace. The fireplace, walls, and the wrought-iron bed frame had been painted white. But a few well-chosen landscape paintings and a vase full of fresh flowers on the bedside table brought just enough color to the room.

I immediately hung my clothing in the narrow closet and lined up my shoes beneath the bed. A crocheted blanket Kara had made me last Yule went over the armchair next to the desk. I was a bit flummoxed by the vanity table for awhile, but I eventually found an empty glass for my mascara and eyeliner and set that and the vase of flowers on it.

I was busy stacking my books on the built-in bookshelf when I heard a soft knock on my door. I was surprised that anyone would be knocking on my door after the fiasco downstairs, but I was even more surprised to discover it was the new girl when I went and opened it.   

“Hi,” she said in a surprisingly sweet voice. “Do you have a phone charger I can borrow? I guess I left mine in my parent’s car and my phone is dead.” She held up an iPhone whose case had been decorated with what seemed to be purple unicorns and pink bats.

I goggled at her. She must have thought I was offended or something because she shuffled her feet and looked away.

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” she murmured, and again I was shocked by how sweet she sounded. “I can ask someone else if you’re busy.”

“No, wait!” I said just as she was turning around. “I’m sorry, I just…” I gestured uselessly. I couldn’t exactly explain that I had trouble reconciling her goth appearance with her personality. “Would you like to come in for a second?” I said.

Author's Note

Hello, all! I hope you’re enjoying Holyoak Five so far.

I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got the vast majority of this series planned out. (I even know how it ends, wow, crazy.) As of right now, it will probably run  as a couple dozen “episodes” in three “seasons”.
I plan to post a new episode every Friday. I might do more if I really get going with it, but that’s the schedule for now!

Any thoughts or questions, let me know. I’d love to hear from you. Until then - I’ll be writing. :)

Episode Three: Worlds Collide

Poppy opened the front door to reveal a pile of brown and tan suitcases tumbled across the porch. A tall girl with ruby red hair stood in their midst with an outraged expression.

“Not just genuine Louis Vuitton, it’s vintage,” she hissed at the man scrambling to restack the luggage on a cart he’d evidently lifted up the porch steps. “If you’ve scratched one of them…”

“I’m so sorry, Miss Stropharia,” the man said, although I could now see he was more of a boy and probably barely our age. “Where do you want me to…”

“Oh, right in here,” Poppy piped up. She opened the door a little wider, and I stepped aside so the boy could wheel the cart of very expensive, very vintage luggage inside.

“You must be September,” Poppy said, holding out her hand in welcome.                    

Episode Two: The Honeybee House

“Hey, Dana, wake up! We just passed the town line!”

I groaned as Kara shook me by the shoulder. I hadn’t really been asleep; just dozing and running through the fifty-five reasons I had tallied so far about why this year was going to be the worst year of my life. Not that repeating any of them out loud would convince Kara or my dad of the fact. They’d both been ridiculously optimistic about my attending WCH instead of going to Salem where they had to know I really belonged. I got into all of my other safety schools, of course, and usually with a full scholarship as a boon for my excellent grades and extracurricular activities. I guess it didn’t hurt that I’d already mastered a few of the Thirteen Powers under my mom’s tutelage. My name attached to hers probably didn’t hurt either. Everywhere except her school.

I shook my head. Before we left home, I had determined to put the endless cycle of wondering why I had been rejected from Salem behind me. What was done was done, after all, and I couldn’t do anything about it until spring semester at the earliest.

“Look! Oh, isn’t it cute?” Kara squealed.

I finally looked out the window and saw the town where I’d be spending the next couple months. Holyoak was much smaller than my own home town. I’d done my research; the entire population was only five times bigger than that of my public high school. I was used to living in a place where I could disappear into a crowd. But this two lane main street lined with elms and mom and pop businesses didn’t look like it could generate its own government, let alone a crowd.

Not that the school would be much better. There would only be 30 girls in my entire graduating class! I’d always liked small classes, but that was kind of insane.

Before Kara could breathe more than a few oohs and aahs, we’d reached the end of the shops and turned onto another street, this one lined with trees and houses.

“Guess there probably won’t be much of a nightlife here, huh?” Kara said. My dad chuckled from the front seat.

“Holyoak might be small, but you’ve never been much for distractions from your academics anyway, right, Dana?” he said.

There was that stupid optimism again. I forced myself to smile and nod.

Right. My life was over.

Episode One: Admissions

Sunset at the Bolete residence.

Dear Dana Bolete,

Thank you for applying to the Salem Institute for Witches. Upon completion of the difficult task of selecting this year’s group of students for admittance to SIW, our Admissions Committee has concluded that we are unable to offer you acceptance to the institute.

My heart stopped. It stopped as though a sledgehammer had smashed into my chest, destroying my life in an instant. But when the agony of it kept going, I realized my heartbeat was still chugging along, if somewhat erratically. I shook my head in an effort to refocus my blurred vision and looked at the letter again.

We deeply appreciate your interest in the Salem Institute. Please consider applying again as a transfer student in the spring. Thank you, and we wish you success and happiness in all of your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Antonia Rivers

Dean of Admissions

I stared at the words until they blurred again. But it was just that my hands were shaking. I set the letter down on my desk and clenched my fingers to form fists. Anything to bring reality back.

            

 …we are unable to offer you acceptance…

             

Impossible. My mother was friends with Antonia Rivers; they’d gone to the Institute together! How could they reject me? My grades were perfect. I know I aced their entrance exam. I studied harder than any other witch I knew, and while that wasn’t a lot of girls, it was certainly enough for me to feel like I had an upper hand against any of them. And I knew for a fact Opal had already been accepted.

“What’s that?”