Poppy Inkwell - Torment and Trickery

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Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Inkwell, Poppy.

Title: Torment and trickery / Poppy Inkwell.

Description: New York : West 44, 2020. | Series: Alana Oakley Identifiers: ISBN 9781538384831 (pbk.) | ISBN 9781538384824 (library bound) | ISBN 9781538384848 (ebook)

Subjects: LCSH: Detective and mystery stories. | ArsonJuvenile fiction. | SchoolJuvenile fiction. | High school students-Juvenile fiction.

Classification: LCC PZ7.I559 To 2020 | DDC [F]dc23

Published in 2020 by Enslow Publishing LLC

101 West 23rd Street, Suite #240 New York, NY 10011

Copyright 2020 Poppy Inkwell. Original editon published in 2015 by Big Sky Publishing.

Cover design and Illustrations: Dave Atze Typesetting: Think Productions

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer.

Printed in the United States of America

CPSIA compliance information: Batch #CS19W44: For further information contact Enslow Publishing LLC, New York, New York at 1-800-542-2595.

While editing this book I had a car accident.I was very lucky and walked away with only abroken arm and wrist. A couple of scenes in thebook treat road accidents rather casually I usehumor as a tool and it is deliberately absurd andover-the-top so allow me this opportunity to beserious for a minute

Speed kills./Real mates dont let mates drinkand drive./Be alert dont get hurt./Stop. Revive.Survive./Drive now. Text later.

We all know the safety slogans and after being in a REAL accident I can tell you that there is NOTHING funny about them. So please, please, please, stay safe and where possible, keep your loved ones safe, too.

To this end, Id like to Thank all of the extremely Heroic men and women of the police force and accident and emergency services. It takes real guts to turn up to work every day not knowing what strife people have gotten themselves into. As well, the Amazing orthopedic doctors, nurses, and surgeons of Nambour Hospital who kept me pain-free and then spent 51/2 hours fixing my wrist - Id give you a thumbs-up but we all know that radial nerve damage prevents me from doing it. Thanks in advance to the physiotherapists and osteopaths who will help me achieve that goal. Next, thanks to the Noble teachers who supported my family and me while I was incapacitated. My kindest friends and family deserve special mention also. All the wonderful people who helped me look after the children until their dad returned, Allison, Cheri, Jacqui, Jason, and Todd, but most especially the Wilson family who took us in after the dreaded call: To Nick for his awful puns, to Kerri for taking it all in her stride, to Alice for her wicked humor (Q: How do you get Poppy out of a tree? A: Wave), to Sophia whose free spirit is a thing of wonder and beauty. And PJ for being PJ. Last, but not least, the Selfless strangers, those anonymous Good Samaritans who helped untangle my arm from the steering wheel, held my hand, kept me calm, and convinced me that Id look much cooler with my new scar. Thank you Bro Dreads, Dr. Moon, and Mrs. Heart for being my guardian angels for the day.

THANKS!

The Shakespeare Rap. Copyright 2014. William Brien. Reprinted with kind permission of William Brien.

Fate.

What did it really mean?

If Alana had worn blue laces instead of neon, if her bike had had a flat, or if shed stepped in gum (the stubborn, sticky kind) and been delayed five minutes picking it off, then maybe, just maybe, she wouldnt have met the tall, dark, mysterious stranger, as Sofias cousin predicts. Or uncovered his secret

Secrets sometimes they conceal something fiendish and deceitful, and other times something truly miraculous.

A thousand random moments. A thousand different choices. A thousand different outcomes.

Was it fate?

Alana didnt know, but she did know things were not always what they seemed.

Alana Oakley parked her bicycle on the grounds of Gibson High. A few older students, some of whom she didnt know, waved as they passed the girl whose long, normally dark, flyaway hair contained a new streak of plum. It was tied back in a high ponytail with neon shoelaces. Alana smiled broadly, the dimples which shed inherited from her father, Hugo, deepening in reply. It was great to be in Year Eight and no longer at the Bottom of the Food Chain. It also helped that last year Alana and her friends won the Original Song Contest, scoring tickets and backstage passes to see Slam Guru and Jet Tierbert, two of the worlds hottest music acts. That shed reportedly shown teen heartthrob Jet a thing or two on the guitar after the concert had set school tongues wagging and eyes agog.

Lana! three voices called out at once. Alanas dark ponytail swung in response and she broke into a grin. Alanas closest friends, Khalilah, Maddie, and Sofia, bounced over to her. Khalilah, plumper than the other two, lagged slightly behind. Alana admired Sofias new yin and yang pendant, even though it was hard to see amongst the plethora of lucky charms she still wore.

Maddies sea-colored eyes sparkled with good humor as she teased their friend. I thought youd given up all that superstitious stuff for Hard Science?

Sofia flicked back her hair - now dreadlocks, dyed three different shades of purple - and laughed. I already told you. It cant hurt, right? And with Coach Kusmuk for P.E., I need all the luck I can get.

I heard a rumor she was leaving the school, Alana said hopefully.

Not this year, Sofia said with a crestfallen face. All the same, she gave her lucky Medallion of Hopeless Causes a determined rub.

The other girls groaned. Not Coach Kusmuk again!

Khalilah slung an arm around her friends shoulders. Ive been thinking about that, Maddie, and Ive got a great idea, she began, but everyone was already shaking their heads an emphatic No. They knew all about Khalilah and her Great Ideas. Who else would have thought of trapping last years Magic 8 Ball thief with unwet water, drenching the P.E. teacher in the process?

You know my cousin, Erin, the psychic? said Sofia. None of them did, but they nodded anyway. She came over last weekend and said a tall, dark, mysterious stranger would be entering our lives, she declared dramatically. Before Sofia could explain further, a group of girls in their year clustered around. Soon everybody was chatting animatedly about music, teachers, and their schedule. Younger students stood on the fringes in awe.

The Year Sevens were soon herded away for a formal welcome by Gibson Highs acting principal, Mr. Turner. Alana and her friends remembered his speech from last year. No doubt the new batch of Year Sevens would also be urged to explore, experiment, and enjoy by the rotund, rosy-cheeked man students good-naturedly dubbed Santa.