Wild Magic

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Wild Magic Page 7

by Madeline Freeman


  My jaw drops. How can she think that? Is that really the kind of person my alternate self is? “I don’t care who’s best at magic—I care about us not being connected to something evil—”

  “It’s not evil.” Crystal stares at me like she’s seeing me clearly for the first time. “The only reason you helped me get the crystal to begin with was because you wanted to use it.”

  An echo builds in my mind as her thoughts filter in. She thinks Lexie’s right, that I want all the magic for myself. She thinks I’ll find a way to anchor myself to the stone without the rest of them. “Crystal—no. I don’t want to anchor to this thing—I don’t want any of us to!” I pull my arm back and launch the chunk of quartz toward the fire.

  Crystal screams, her left arm outstretched. The stone freezes in midair, just inches from the greedy fingers of the fire. It begins creeping backward, toward her hand, and I reach for it. When I take a step forward, I’m knocked backward by an unseen force. Beside Crystal, Lexie’s arm is outstretched and I know the source of the energy. She sends another shock wave at me and I reel backward. I land hard on my butt, just outside the salt circle.

  The quartz reaches Crystal’s hand just as I get my feet under me. I have to stop her—I need to get the crystal and destroy it before they can anchor themselves to it. I lunge at her, but a milky blue light flashes between us, knocking me to the side. I stumble but manage not to fall over again. I rush toward Crystal again, but when I come to the salt circle, I can’t move any farther. A force stops my progress. She must have cast some kind of protective spell around them. I bang my fist against the thickened air surrounding them, but it does nothing but cause another milky blue flash, followed by ripples like a disturbed puddle. A muffled murmur reaches me through the shield: They’re continuing the spell. Crystal lifts her hands skyward again and the stone floats from her palms, moving until it hovers directly over the fire.

  Everyone’s eyes are fixed on the crystal—except Fox’s. He stares at me, his mouth agape. Above the fire, the crystal begins to give off a silvery glow. Thin filament-like threads of energy unfurl from it and inch toward the members of the circle. Each strand reaches its target at the same instant, and the six people within the salt circle seem, for an instant, to be cloaked in the same silver light emanating from the crystal.

  The bonfire blinks out in an instant and the crystal drops into the smoking embers. But for the light of the full moon above, the yard is dark.

  The anchoring spell is complete.

  Chapter Eight

  The anchoring ceremony replays over and over again in my dreams. Sometimes, after the flash of silvery light surrounds the members of the circle, they fly into the sky, sprouting ragged black wings and eclipsing the moon. Others, they burst into flames. Each time, I wake gasping.

  Fox drove me home right after the ceremony ended, apologizing profusely for what Lexie did, promising he’d figure out a way to fix things, to link me with the crystal, too. Regret and fear filled the cab of his truck; no matter how many times I tried to tell him I didn’t want to be anchored, he didn’t listen. I allowed him to hold my hand and I reached out with my psychic abilities to see if I could sense anything off about him, but he didn’t seem changed. Still, I can’t help worrying. No matter what they think, there’s something dark about the energy they’re now linked to.

  My stomach knots as I dress for school, and I can’t eat more than a few bites of breakfast. After trying to strike up a conversation several times, my mom and Jodi give up, allowing me to eat in peace.

  I’m already waiting on the porch when Fox pulls into the driveway. Frost glitters in the early morning light as I rush to his truck. As he pulls back onto the street and heads for school, I watch him—the set of his jaw, the lines of his neck. He doesn’t look any different than yesterday.

  We’re nearly to the school when he turns to me while stopped at a sign. “What? You’re creeping me out.” He doesn’t sound mad, but, although his tone is playful, there’s a flatness to it.

  “How do you feel?”

  He shrugs. “Only mildly evil.”

  His taunting grin doesn’t stop me from swatting his arm. “Fox. Come on, really. Do you feel any different from yesterday?”

  A horn sounds behind us and he turns his eyes back to the road. “Yeah, I feel different. But, it’s a good different. It’s like—it’s like when you’re right in the middle of a spell and everything is going right and the energy is flowing through you—you know? Only it’s like that all the time. I feel—I don’t know… Like I could do anything.”

  He pulls into the school’s parking lot and I catch a glimpse of Crystal’s car. “Are the others all pissed at me?”

  “Nah.” He parks the car and cuts the ignition. The way he says it indicates there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t volunteer any information. I don’t ask: I’ll find out soon enough.

  Fox holds my hand as we walk into the school, and again I take stock of him, his energy. There isn’t the barest echo of the sensations I received from the crystal, even when I touch my ring to his skin. Maybe I was wrong.

  I hope I was wrong.

  Crystal, Bridget, and Lexie are at Crystal’s locker when I get upstairs. Crystal’s eyes flick in my direction momentarily but she doesn’t wave me over. I’m not sure whether or not I’m upset by this.

  The girls all look like they always do, coordinated today in purples and blues. I’m wearing a black sweater and jeans, but something tells me no one will demand I do a glamor to match today.

  Fox squeezes my hand as we walk past them to my first hour class. “Don’t worry. Things’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

  I force a smile to match his, even though I’m not sure he’s right. I tried to stop them last night. They could look at that as betrayal. Icy dread knots my stomach. Will they try to retaliate against me? I press the idea from my head. No, they got what they wanted—I didn’t actually stop them. Maybe I’ll be lucky and they’ll just ignore me. I’ve dealt with that enough in my life to be able to deal.

  Gratitude for Fox wells inside me. He, at least, doesn’t seem upset with me. Although he’s not who I would have chosen to be with, he’s chosen me, and he’s standing by me now, even though I’m sure it’ll cause stress between him and the other circle members.

  When we stop outside Miss Buchanan’s English class and he leans in for a kiss, I pull him to me in a tight hug instead. He stiffens, surprised, but quickly relaxes into my arms. His disappointment flashes through me, and I wish I could explain how much more this hug means for me than would a simple acceptance of his kiss. When he kisses me, I pretend, but this embrace is my choice, my thanks, my acceptance of him as a part of my life. I still don’t want Fox to be my boyfriend, but I’m glad to have him as a friend. There will be a time to tell him all this, but now is not it.

  Fox squints when I release him, his eyebrow raised slightly. “You gonna be okay?”

  I smile, and this time it’s genuine. “Yeah. I’ll see you after class.”

  I hesitate before making my way toward my regular seat. Lexie isn’t there yet. If she doesn’t want to sit by me, she can choose another seat. I spent too much time being afraid of what my classmates thought about me to allow myself to slip back into those thoughts. After all, maybe she’s not mad at me for last night. I don’t want to make her think I’m mad. Although I can’t sense anything off about Fox’s energy, I’m still not convinced last night’s ceremony won’t have consequences. The best way to help the circle is to stay connected to it.

  Lexie slides into the room just before the late bell and I do a double take. At Crystal’s locker, she was in jeans and a purple-and-blue checked baby doll top, but now she’s in knee-high black leather boots over tight tan pants and a billowing red-checked top. I catch her eye as she takes her seat behind me. “Nice look.”

  She meets my eyes just long enough to roll hers before focusing on the front of the room. I sigh. So much for the circle not being mad. Still, eye con
tact is better than complete ignoring. Things could be worse.

  Fox is outside the door after class, his face tight with tension. I link my arm through his and start toward my locker. “How long do you think it’ll take her to cool down?”

  He exhales noisily. “You know Lexie. Either by the end of the day or sometime next year.”

  We arrive at my locker and I spin the dial. “Okay, time for honesty. Are they all mad at me?”

  “No,” he says too quickly.

  I change out my English novel for my science book. “Fox.”

  “Griffin couldn’t care less. He figures with you not anchored it means more for him. Zane hasn’t said anything, but I’d bet he feels the same way. Lexie’s always been jealous of you—you know that. My guess is she’s gonna want to rub it in for a while that she’s finally better at magic than you. And when she gets bored, she’ll be back to the same old Lexie.”

  My heart clenches at his words. If only she could be the same old Lexie.

  “Crystal’s a bit harder to read. I don’t think she’s mad, though.”

  “And Bridget?”

  Fox snorts. “She does whatever Crystal and Lexie do.”

  The next two classes pass without incident, but no one from the circle is in either of them. In science, Owen ignores me the same way he’s done the last two days. At first, I thought perhaps Owen was just not paying attention to me, but today it’s clear he goes out of his way not to look in my direction: When the girl at the front of my row passes the day’s assignment behind her, there’s a connection error and the papers spill out into the aisle. Owen stoops to help pick them up and when he hands the assignment to the girl in front of me, his eyes graze mine for the briefest of seconds before he drops his gaze and turns hurriedly forward—almost like he’s guilty. But why should he feel guilty for looking at me? The question rattles around my head for the rest of the period and into the next, causing me to mess up an answer during my Spanish skit, asking the boy pretending to be my waiter for un taco de pecado instead of un taco de pescado—a sin taco instead of a fish taco.

  Felix and West, at least, find my error hilarious and snicker about it for the remainder of the hour.

  At lunch, I sit beside Fox like I’ve done since Monday, and while no one says anything about it, no one says anything to me either. Fox keeps up a steady stream of chatter to make up for it, but he can’t cover the fact that Bridget, Crystal, and Lexie—who now wears a boat-neck leopard print dress cinched at the waist with a skinny black belt—are pretending I don’t exist.

  Class never actually begins in math fourth hour, and it has everything to do with Zane. Mrs. Hill keeps walking to the chalkboard, scratching her head, and backing away to consult her textbook or her notes. A few students in the front of the room try calling things out to get her on track, but nothing helps. After about ten minutes, the majority of the class stops trying to be quiet and talks at full volume. Several people move from their desks to sit closer to friends, and a couple of guys start fashioning and flying paper air planes. A handful of girls pull out their cell phones. Zane just sits back in his desk with his arms crossed over his chest, a smug smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

  “Having fun?” I ask.

  His eyebrows draw together and the corners of his mouth turn down. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Seriously, this is how you’re gonna use your magic? To get out of schoolwork? Why not just do a spell to do the work for you or something?”

  Fox places a hand on my shoulder. “Just let him have his fun,” he murmurs.

  I want to argue but think better of it. I don’t want Fox to be mad at me. If I have to deal with an hour of downtime, so be it. Math isn’t exactly my favorite subject anyway.

  By the time I get to health, Lexie—wearing a cap sleeve dress in blue camouflage—has filled our regular table. She offers me the barest smirk as I pass by. I roll my eyes in response. If she thinks she’s punishing me by not letting me sit with her, she’s wrong.

  There’s an empty spot at Felix’s table and I sit before it occurs to me how out of character it is for my alternate-self. Felix raises an eyebrow but says nothing as I pull my textbook out of my backpack. I offer a smile, hitching my thumb in Lexie’s direction. “Do you mind? My usual spot’s taken.”

  He holds up his hands. “By all means.” His eyes remain on me as I open my notebook to a fresh page. I shift under the weight of his gaze but say nothing.

  Mrs. Stanton is absent today, and the substitute puts on a video about the effects of drugs that looks like it was filmed about thirty years ago. After pressing play and turning off the lights, the sub settles behind the teacher’s desk and opens a novel. Every two or three minutes, she shushes us, but the low murmur of voices never actually ceases.

  As I watch, I try my best to pay attention and fill out the guided viewing worksheet, but Felix’s eyes remain on me. About ten minutes in, I can’t stand it anymore. “Why are you staring at me?”

  One corner of Felix’s mouth upturns and he cocks his head to the side. “You know, I think this is the most you’ve said to me since seventh grade.”

  I open my mouth, ready to say I didn’t even know him in seventh grade, but stop myself just in time. “Sorry,” I say because I can’t think of anything else to say.

  He shrugs. “I get it. You chose your path, right? And it’s not like I can blame you. Once you and Fox got together, it wouldn’t really be fair to him to still be friends with me.”

  I stare at him, not sure what he means. To buy time, I scribble marijuana on the next blank, even though I’m sure it’s not the answer to the question.

  “After all, you heard what Mrs. Stanton said last week—there’s always a special place in your heart for your first kiss.”

  I snort at his implication. Felix, my first kiss? No. My first kiss was Owen…

  Felix leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, what? So you’re gonna pretend it didn’t happen?”

  Guilt bubbles in my stomach. He’s being serious, and from the look in his hazel eyes, he’s hurt. I appraise him quickly through the eyes of my seventh-grade self. The last part of sixth grade wasn’t good for me: After a crazy explosion of my burgeoning abilities at a friend’s birthday party, not only did I become a social pariah, but my dad took off without an explanation. In this timeline, I came to Clearwater just before I started seventh grade. Although I didn’t know Felix particularly well in my old life, he was always funny and kind—the type of person I could feel safe and accepted with. And while with his longish brown hair brushing his shoulders isn’t a style that appeals to me, Felix does have a sort of rugged handsomeness. Maybe my alternate-self having kissed him isn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility.

  I force a smile to cover my error. This is Felix, no matter whether I know this version or not, and I know how to talk to him. “What, Felix? You’re not still carrying a torch for me after all these years, are you? I think you’re the one still hung up on your first kiss.”

  It’s his turn to snort. “Yeah, right. Like you were my first.”

  He smiles and I can’t help smiling back—a genuine one this time.

  At the end of the hour, I head straight for history. I want to catch Crystal without her usual entourage and figure this is my best chance. I linger in the hallway by the door, waiting for her to emerge from a clandestine stairwell makeout session with Tucker. Bridget passes me on her way into the room, smiling for an instant before pursing her lips, pulling her eyebrows together, like she’s not sure whether she should smile at me or not. This is good news: Maybe Crystal hasn’t assigned me status as Public Enemy Number One yet.

  Miss Tanner exits the room and heads down the hallway. She’s no more than two doors down when a vaguely familiar brunette darts into the room. She’s in one of my classes, I’m sure of it, but it’s not this one. She wears a pair of skinny black pants and a purple
shirt that doesn’t quite cover her stomach. Something snaps in my head and it comes to me: Dana Crawford. She was West Harmon’s date to the Harvest Dance, and Lexie and Bria called her a hussy.

  Now, Dana approaches Bridget and clamps a hand down on her shoulder, spinning the slightly shorter girl to face her. Bridget’s face registers surprise for a split second before switching to defense and then anger.

  “What?” she snaps, pushing Dana’s hand from her shoulder.

  “You know what,” Dana growls. “I’m only gonna say this once, so you better listen. Stay away from Marcus. He’s mine.”

  A smile creeps across Bridget’s lips and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh. That.”

  “I’m about to smack that smile off your face. Stay away from him.”

  Bridget sighs. “Look, I can’t help if he likes me. You know, you should really be having this talk with him, because he’s the one who can’t seem to stay away from me.”

  I haven’t noticed any guy hanging around Bridget today, but I know enough to guess what’s going on: While Lexie is using her connection to the crystal to do a new glamor every hour and Zane is making his teachers forget their lesson plans, Bridget is casting an attraction charm of some kind.

  Dana lunges toward Bridget and Bridget flinches. Dana laughs, easing back a step. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She takes a few more steps backward, keeping her eyes trained on Bridget, before turning and stalking toward the door. When she’s almost to the threshold, she stumbles as though she’s tripped over something, although nothing is in her path. She careens toward the floor, her arms outstretched to break the fall, but at the last second, her arms fly outward and she crashes face-first into the cream-colored linoleum. An audible gasp sounds through the classroom as Dana lets out a sharp yelp. The tardy bell sounds and Miss Tanner appears in the doorway, freezing at the scene before her. She’s at Dana’s side in an instant, helping her up. A smear of blood remains on the tile where Dana’s nose hit. Miss Tanner supports Dana and heads out of the room, instructing the class to keep away from the blood, that she’ll send the custodian to clean it up.

 

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