Daughter of Isis (Descendants of Isis #1)

“Never mind. The other two with him over there are Quant and Ky. Quant is the short Asian-American with the thick glasses. Prefers to be called Q. Real smart-alek, and believes he’s truly a gift from God. The other one,” he pointed to the modern-day Hercules with bleached tips in his dark brown hair, “is Ky Petersen. Kinda the strong arm of the group, yet not that intelligent. Great football player though.”


Natti watched the group. “I see. So, they’re the popular type.”

Kevin’s lips twisted into a wicked smile. “You can say that.”

“Yo, Kevin, are you coming or what?” called a girl with dyed black pigtails.

“Yeah, be right there, Jen!” Kevin looked at Natti. “Well, welcome to Setemple. Hope to see you around and . . . ah . . . good luck.”

Natti nodded. “Thanks.”

She stood up from her seat. Several girls shoved their shoulders into her when they walked by, giving her the feeling Seth had just made her a few new enemies. Letting it slide, she picked up a spare racquet and started toward Wanda who was rooted to the bench. She eyed Natti with caution like a hare would eye a lynx approaching. Wanda pushed her pink-rimmed glasses up her nose, finally standing up.

“Natara Stone,” Natti smiled and introduced herself, holding out her hand. “You can call me Natti.”

“Wanda,” the girl’s voice was soft and shy.

“Pleased to meet you. So, which court is ours?”

Wanda pointed beyond the fence splitting the paired tennis courts to a far off corner.

Natti smiled. “Right. Let’s go.”

They strolled through the fence opening and walked along the boundary of the third court toward the fourth. Two boys were already using half the court while everyone around them practiced their backhand, top spins, slices, and lobs. Tennis balls bounced across the terracotta clay and clanked against the chain link fence. The sounds were rhythmic, and Natti loved every second of it. Having spent many a happy hour at the Sutton Tennis Academy, it was the first thing that felt anything like normal since she had arrived at Setemple.

“Just to warn you,” Wanda snapped Natti from her thoughts of England, “I’m not very good.”

Natti shrugged. “That’s fine. The point of physical education is having fun. And what better sport is there than tennis?”

“You’ve played before?”

“I played at the Sutton Tennis Academy. I can give you some pointers, if you want.”

“Thanks, but I’m hopeless at this game. I’d much rather be studying my Advanced Calculus book.”

“Rubbish! Now, would you like to start or shall I?”

Wanda shoved the tennis ball in Natti’s direction as if it were diseased. Natti raised her brow. “Okay. Well, I’ll be sure to take it easy at first, all right?”

Wanda nodded, and Natti moved to the other side of the net. As she walked, she caught sight of Seth watching her through the fence from the opposite side of the second court. He was smiling, eyeing her in her uniform. Natti looked down to see her hip exposed, gasped, and quickly pulled up her pants. Grousing, she positioned herself on the court behind the service line. She could still feel Seth’s eyes on her. Forcing her embarrassment and anger aside, she gripped the ball and got her mind wrapped around the game she loved.

Trying to judge how much strength to use, she studied Wanda. Her slight frame and frightened eyes told her to be very gentle. She decided to start off with the flat forehand, letting her hand form into the appropriate grip.

“All right, coming your way. Are you ready?”

Wanda’s knuckles turned white while her grip on the racquet tightened. Her throat moved to a slow, hard swallow, and she nodded. Natti tossed the ball into the air and tapped it with the flat strings of her racquet. The tennis ball glided through the air. Reactively, Wanda dropped to the ground and covered her head when the ball gently bounced by.

Members of the class around them began to laugh. Natti rushed around the net to help her partner up, shooting everyone a death glare that silenced the class in seconds flat. All except Q and Ky, who walked up behind the fence.

“Nice job, geek!” Ky mocked.

Natti marched up to the fence and hit it with the racquet, making Ky jump back. “LEAVE HER THE HELL ALONE!”

“Ms. Stone!” Mrs. Kuft bellowed. “We do not take out our temper on school equipment!”

Natti snarled at Ky. His hungry eyes looked her over, making her feel disgusted. Frustrated and enraged, she forced the frame of the racquet into the fence again before turned back to Wanda. Wanda pushed up her glasses.

“Sorry,” she whispered, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “Reflex.”

“And a good one too.” Natti tried to smile. “It just won’t help your game very much.”

“I told you I was hopeless.”

“No, we just have to go about this a different way.”

“How?” Wanda asked.

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