The School Years Complete Collection. Soman Chainani

not leaving you!” she cried to Sophie, breaking away.

      “No one’s asking you to leave me, Agatha,” Sophie said tightly. “We’re just asking you to leave your clothes.”

      “No!” Agatha shouted. “We’re not switching clothes. We’re not switching rooms. We’re not switching schools!”

      Sophie and Hester exchanged furtive glances.

      “We’re going home!” Agatha said, voice catching. “We can be friends there—on the same side—no Good, no Evil—we’ll be happy forev—”

      Sophie and Hester tackled her. Dot and Anadil pulled the pink dress off Agatha’s body, and the four of them shoved Sophie’s black robes on in its place. Shimmying into her new pink dress, Sophie threw open the door. “Goodbye, Evil! Hello, Love!”

      Agatha stumbled to her feet and looked down at a putrid black sack that fit just how she liked.

      “And all is right in the world,” Hester sighed. “Really, I don’t know how you were ever friends with that tram—”

      “Get back here!” Agatha yelled, pursuing Sophie in pink through the hall’s hordes of black. Shocked by an Ever in their midst, Nevers swarmed around Sophie and started to beat her about the head with books, bags, and shoes—

      “No! She’s one of us!”

      All the Nevers turned to Hort, in the stairwell, including dumbstruck Sophie. Hort pointed at Agatha in black.

      “That’s the Ever!”

      The Nevers unleashed a new war cry and mobbed Agatha as Sophie shoved Hort away and escaped down the stairs. Agatha scraped through the gauntlet with a few well-placed kicks and slid down the banister to cut Sophie off. With Sophie in sight, she tracked her through a tight corridor, reached out her hand to grab her by the pink collar, but Sophie turned a corner, ran up snaking steps, and veered off the first floor. Agatha swerved into a dead end, saw Sophie magically jump through a wall, blood-splattered “NO STUDENTS!” and with a flying leap, Agatha jumped through the portal right after her—

      And landed on the Evil end of Halfway Bridge.

      But this was where the chase ceased, for Sophie was too far to Good to catch. Through the fog, Agatha could see her glowing with joy.

      “Agatha, he’s King Arthur’s son,” Sophie gushed. “A real-life prince! But what do I say to him? How do I show him I’m the one?”

      Agatha tried to hide her hurt. “You’d leave me here … alone?”

      Sophie’s face softened.

      “Please don’t worry, Aggie. Everything is perfect now,” she said gently. “We’ll still be best friends. Just in different schools, like we planned. No one can stop us from being friends, can they?”

      Agatha gazed at Sophie’s beautiful smile and believed her.

      But all of a sudden, her friend’s smile vanished. Because on Sophie’s body, the pink dress magically rotted to black. Just like that Sophie was in her old, sagging villain robes, swan glittering over her heart. She looked up and gasped. Across the Bridge, Agatha’s black robes had shrunk back to pink.

      The two girls gaped at each other in shock. Suddenly, shadows swept over Sophie, and Agatha spun. The giant wave swelled high above her, waters curling into a shimmering lasso. Before Agatha could run, it swooped and hurled her across the bay into sunlit mist. Sophie lunged to the Bridge’s gloomy edge and let out a wail of injustice.

      The wave slowly rose back over her, but this time its waters didn’t shimmer. With a belligerent roar, it smashed Sophie back into the School for Evil and right back on schedule.

      hy do we need to uglify?”

      Sophie peeked through her fingers at Professor Manley’s bald, pimpled head and squash-colored skin, trying not to gag. Around her, Nevers sat at charred desks with rusty mirrors, cheerily bashing tadpoles to death in iron bowls. If she didn’t know better, she’d think they were making a Sunday cake.

      Why am I still here? she fumed through furious tears.

      “Why do we need to be revolting and repugnant?” Manley jowled. “Hester!”

      “Because it makes us fearsome,” Hester said, and swigged her tadpole juice, instantly springing a rash of red pox.

      “Wrong!” roared Manley. “Anadil!”

      “Because it makes little boys cry,” Anadil said, sprouting her own red blisters.

      “Wrong! Dot!”

      “Because it’s easier to get ready in the morning?” Dot asked, mixing her juice with chocolate.

      “Wrong and stupid!” Manley scorned. “Only once you give up the surface can you dig beneath it! Only once you relinquish vanity can you be yourself!”

      Sophie crawled behind desks, lunged for the door—the knob burnt her hand and she yelped.

      “Only once you destroy who you think you are can you embrace who you truly are!” Manley said, glaring right at her.

      Whimpering, Sophie crawled back to her desk, past villains exploding in shingles. Smoky-green ranks popped out of thin air around her—“1” over Hester, “2” over Anadil, “3” over oily, brown-skinned Ravan, “4” over blond, pointy-eared Vex. Hort drank his draught excitedly, only to see a wee zit spurt from his chin. He smacked away a stinky “19,” but the rank smacked him right back.

      “Ugliness means you rely on intelligence,” Manley leered, slinking towards Sophie. “Ugliness means you trust your soul. Ugliness means freedom.”

      He flung a bowl onto her desk.

      Sophie looked down into black tadpole juice. Some of it was still moving.

      “Actually, Professor, I believe my Beautification teacher will object to my participation in this assign—”

      “Three failing marks and you’ll end up something uglier than me,” Manley spat.

      Sophie looked up. “I really don’t think that’s possible.”

      Manley turned to the class. “Who would like to help our dear Sophie taste freedom?”

      “Me!”

      Sophie whipped around.

      “Don’t worry,” Hort whispered, “you’ll look better this way.”

      Before Sophie could scream, he plunged her head into the bowl.

      Lying in a puddle on the banks of Good, Agatha replayed the scene from Evil. Her best friend had called her a boob, flying tackled her, stolen her clothes, left her to witches, and then asked for love advice.

      It’s this place, she thought. In Gavaldon, Sophie would forget about classes and castles and boys. In Gavaldon, they could find a happy ending together. Not here. I just need to get us home.

      And yet, something still bothered her. That moment on the Bridge—Sophie in pink against the School for Good, she in black against the School for Evil … “Everything is perfect now,” Sophie said. And she was right. For a brief moment, the mistake had been corrected. They were where they belonged.

      So why couldn’t we stay?

      Whatever happened, it was a close call. Because once Sophie made it to Good, she’d never leave. Agatha’s breath shallowed.