Wild Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  Owen releases my shoulders, swaying slightly in his spot. His eyebrows cinch together and he shakes his head vaguely. “I should… go.”

  A shaky breath passes over my lips. Suddenly, I’m exhausted, my legs like jelly. I reach for the door to steady myself. “Thanks for the ride home.”

  He nods, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Yeah.” He reaches for my face and leans toward me. My breath catches and my stomach flutters. Just when I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, he straightens, taking a step back. His mouth twitches and he starts for the steps. “Bye, Krissa. See you tomorrow.”

  I watch as he crosses the lawn to the driveway, as he opens the door to his Grand Prix and climbs in, as he backs out of the driveway and heads off down the street.

  What just happened? I know why this exchange was strange for me—because I remember the last time we spoke similar words in this very spot. But why would Owen suddenly start acting strange? And why did he almost kiss me?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I barely get a chance to catch my breath for the next few days. Mom insists Jodi take some time off work, which means Devin, Seth, and I have to pick up the slack. Come Monday, I convince Mom to let me work instead of going to school because Devin has a morning class and Seth can’t handle things alone yet. She agrees, with the caveat that I have someone bring home all the work I miss so I don’t get behind.

  Millie’s funeral is Tuesday.

  Outside my bedroom window, the world is frosted. A light snow fell during the night, dusting rooftops and roadways with a powder that snakes in the light breeze. I stare at the clothes in my closet for a long time before deciding on black pants and a gray sweater. Because my hair is extra-staticky today, I pull it back, wrestling it into a strange clawed clip that’s been hanging out on the counter in the bathroom.

  By the time I make it downstairs, breakfast is ready. All weekend, Mom has been keeping up a steady stream of one-sided conversation, occasionally asking me questions about what’s happening at the shop, just so we’re not eating in silence. This morning, however, she elects to remain quiet.

  Somber is the tone of the morning. Although the tone of the funeral is lighthearted, with people sharing stories about Millie and laughing, my eyes are consistently drawn to the two sets of small, shaking shoulders at the front of the room—Millie’s children. No matter how many comical stories are shared, I can’t get out of my head the fact that these two kids no longer have a mom.

  We cut out right after the funeral to get me to school. Mom’s plan is to drop me off and get back at the funeral home before the procession to the graveyard begins.

  I walk to the front office in a daze, my mind still on Millie. For the past few days, I’ve kept myself busy—too busy to replay the afternoon she died. But now, in the silent hallway, the click of my boots against the stone floor, the memory floods back. There’s nothing I could’ve done to stop it. It was an accident—something that gives me shivers each time my mom says it. Still, I had a feeling just before it happened. What could that sensation have meant? Was it a warning? Was I supposed to stop it?

  “Signing in?”

  I blink rapidly. I’m in the front office, standing in front of the secretary, but I don’t remember arriving. She repeats her question and I manage to nod. When I sign in on the clipboard she indicates, shivering when I fill in the reason square, she directs me to lunch. The day is already half over.

  Although I’m still wearing my coat, I don’t bother stopping by my locker before heading to the cafeteria. It strikes me, as the buzz of voices reaches my ears, that I don’t have a lunch, but I’m also not very hungry, so it doesn’t really matter. I make my way through the commons and into the lunch room, weaving around clumps of people who are either slowly making their way to their table or stopped completely, chatting. When I plop down in my chair, Bria immediately wraps her arms around me, squeezing me so hard I can’t draw breath until she releases me. Felix reaches across the table, covering my hand with his, and West pushes a cookie so it rests in front of me. For something to do, I start picking at the cookie, plopping chunks in my mouth and chewing. I don’t taste it.

  “So,” Bria says after a minute, drawing out the word. “Do you have anything going on tonight? Working at the shop, or… other plans?”

  I chew and swallow. “No. Shop’s closed for the day. We were all at the funeral this morning and Jodi didn’t want anyone to have to work afterward. Tonight, Jodi’s going out with some people who came in from out of town for the funeral. Mom’s going with her because she’s pretty sure Jodi’s gonna drink her weight in rum.”

  “Does that mean you can come out, too?” Bria asks.

  “Probably.” I break off another piece of cookie but don’t eat it. Instead, I work on breaking it half, and then half again, and again. “Why? You guys wanna practice blocking magic again?” I sigh, not sure I’m up for it. But being able to stop the circle from casting spells is more important than me sitting in my room, replaying whether or not I could have done something to keep Millie from dying. “Yeah, sure. We can do that.”

  Felix reaches across the table again, stilling my hands. The cookie is little more than crumbs on the napkin in front of me. “Not practice. We were thinking going out to eat, or watching a movie. You know—to celebrate.”

  The wheels in my mind turn, but something’s off. There’s something obvious I’m missing, but my brain won’t land on it.

  “You know,” Felix says slowly, “for your birthday?”

  I stare at him a moment. Something bubbles in the pit of my stomach, rising quickly toward my mouth. It’s not until it escapes through my lips that I recognize it. Laughter. I tip my head backward and release a long cackle. The energy of the room changes as people at nearby tables turn to look, trying to discern what’s funny, but it doesn’t faze me. When the laughter has run its course, I return my head to center, wiping my eyes. The look on West’s face—like he’s afraid I’ve just lost my mind—almost pushes me back into a fit, but I tamp it down. “It’s my birthday.”

  Felix nods matter-of-factly. “And we’d like to help you celebrate.”

  I take in a breath, connecting my gaze with each of them. “I’d like that.”

  West’s eyes flick to the table. “Are you… gonna eat that?”

  I push the napkin full of cookie crumbs toward him. “By all means. I appreciate the gesture, I’m just… not hungry.”

  West loses no time plucking up a few crumbs and popping them into his mouth. Bria vacates the spot beside me and edges Felix out of his place beside West, claiming her fair share of the treat. Instead of relocating to the next seat over, Felix comes around the table to sit in Bria’s spot beside me. “Don’t look now,” he murmurs, raising his chin.

  Catching his meaning, I affect a long, slow stretch, linking my fingers behind my head and arching my back before pressing my connected hands above me. As I stretch, I look in the direction Felix indicated, sure of what I’ll see. Crystal, Lexie, and Bridget, most likely, eyeing me and giggling. Or maybe it’s Fox. He would know it’s my birthday. Does he want to come say something?

  But when my eyes finally land on the person Felix mentioned, I’m so surprised I look away immediately. From his spot across the room, Owen is watching me with unveiled curiosity. My head snaps back to Felix so quickly there’s no way Owen couldn’t figure out the purpose of my elaborate stretch.

  “He asked about you yesterday when you weren’t in school.”

  My heartbeat increases. “What’d he say?”

  He shrugs. “Asked if I’d heard from you. Wanted to see how you were doing. Is it true? You and Owen were together when it happened?”

  I nod and Felix raises an eyebrow. I smack his chest with the back of my hand. “Whatever’s going on in that twisted little head of yours, you can knock it off right now.”

  Felix’s expression rearranges into a mask of innocence. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just saying—you’re a
free agent now, and Owen’s finally not acting like he hates you—”

  I hit him again, heat rising in my cheeks. He has a point. Isn’t it what I’ve wanted since everything changed? To be back with Owen? For things to be the way they were before? My eyes stray to the circle’s table and to Fox. Things are over between the two of us—he hasn’t so much as spoken to me since our fight. And the breakup wasn’t for some fabricated reason I had to make up—it was his choice. My stomach twists. If anything was to blame for that fight, for our separation, it’s the influence of the crystal. Does that mean that if we can separate the circle from it, that Fox will be back to his regular self, to the guy I could see myself with?

  By the time lunch is over, the cookie has been devoured. West waves goodbye and splits off, headed toward his next class. Bria and I have been walking to our lockers together before math, and today Felix joins us, throwing out ideas for the birthday celebration the whole time. Once we’re done at our lockers and headed toward class, I assume Felix will split off, but he follows us into Mrs. Hill’s room.

  When he takes a seat next to me, I raise an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you go to your own class?”

  He grins, holding up a blank square of yellow paper.

  I exchange glances with Bria, who rolls her eyes. “So, what? You’ve got a blank piece of paper.”

  “Pfft. This is my all-access pass. It’s not just paper. When someone else looks at it, they’ll see what I want them to see. Get it? Psychic paper. Totally Dr. Who.”

  “Who?”

  Felix’s face drops and he stares blankly. “I don’t know if we can be friends anymore.”

  I gape and Bria sighs, taking a few seconds to explain what Felix is talking about. When I get the basic idea, I shake my head. I fix my eyes on the yellow square, and even though I’ve never tried to do what Felix suggests, I give it a go anyway, projecting a message meant for his eyes onto the paper.

  The warning bell rings and he reaches down for it, ready to present it to the teacher, but he stops short, snorting. “For real, Krissa? I can’t believe I put up with this abuse.” He winks as he stands, heading toward the front of the room.

  “What?” Bria asks. “What did it say?”

  I grin. “Nerd.”

  She gives me a high five and we share a giggle.

  At the chalkboard, Felix is talking with Mrs. Hill. They’re too far away and the buzz of the classroom is too loud for me to make out what they’re saying. Mrs. Hill is as focused as she’s been since the circle anchored and Zane’s used magic to keep her from teaching the class. Her eyes are fixed on Felix, her eyebrows drawing together as she studies the yellow paper. Felix jumps slightly, rubbing the back of his head. I don’t think anything of it until he does it again, this time rubbing his shoulder. I squint. There’s a smudge of white on the dark blue of his tee-shirt. It happens two more times before I see what’s happening: Pieces of chalk from the ledge are zooming from their position and striking Felix.

  He and I come to the realization at the exact same moment. He turns from Mrs. Hill and finds Zane, lounging in his desk. Although Mrs. Hill is in the middle of a comment, Felix stalks away, approaching Zane. “Knock it off, Ross,” he snaps, his voice low. “I know you think you’re hilarious, but I’m not gonna put up with your bullshit.”

  Zane arranges his face into a look of polite bewilderment. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Another piece of chalk pelts Felix in the back and he lunges at Zane, who flinches.

  “Felix!” I yell, although it’s unnecessary. By the time the word passes my lips. Felix has already stopped and crossed his arms over his chest, grinning. He doesn’t intend to fight Zane—he never did. He just wanted him to show weakness, and he did that. Now a titter of laugher rises up in the room, and Zane’s face goes hard.

  “Felix, I think it’s best you head to your regular class now,” Mrs. Hill says, clapping a hand down on Felix’s shoulder.

  Felix flashes a grin toward me and Bria before allowing himself to be led to the door. But before the door closes behind him, Zane is up and pushes past the teacher into the hallway. Mrs. Hill returns to her desk, apparently oblivious to the exit of her student.

  My skin tingles. This can’t be good. I tap Bria’s shoulder. “We’ve gotta get out there.”

  She nods. “Already ahead of you.” She slips out of her desk and weaves through desks toward the door. I follow her.

  When I pass Fox’s desk, he grabs my wrist. “Wait.”

  I pull my arm away from him. “Either help me keep Zane from doing something stupid, or let me go.”

  Indecision flickers across Fox’s face and his mouth twitches. Shaking my head, I turn away, hurrying after Bria to the door.

  “Believe me, you have no idea what I’m capable of.” Zane’s voice echoes off the corridor walls as Bria and I ease into the hallway.

  “Pretty sure I do.” Felix stand several yards away, facing Zane, whose back is to us. “It’s not like you’re exactly stealth about it, you know.”

  “You’re gonna wanna be shutting up right about now.” Zane’s voice is low and the intent behind the word is clear: Stop talking now or something bad’s gonna happen to you.

  I step forward but Bria’s hand catches the crook of my arm, yanking me backward. I turn and glare and she pushes a single thought into my mind: Wait.

  “Look, I get it,” Felix continues. “You got this shiny new power and a desire to show off. I’m just saying it’s time for you to knock it off before someone gets hurt. Before you get hurt.”

  Zane chuckles. “The only one who’s getting hurt here is you.”

  In a flash, Felix pinwheels backward as if some great force knocked him in the chest. He moves several feet before pitching forward like he’s been hit from behind. The river of fluorescent lights overhead flicker.

  The energy in the hallway changes. There’s a restlessness now—curiosity and bodies in motion. “Bria, lock all the classroom doors.”

  Her eyebrows draw together, but she closes her eyes to do what I ask anyway. Down the hall, above Felix, one of the light bulbs blows, sending down a shower of sparks. The metal and plastic housing surrounding the bulb swings down as if on a hinge, colliding with the back of Felix’s head, launching him forward again.

  The vibration of doors in their door jambs is all I need to know Bria’s successfully locked all the classrooms. The last thing we need here is collateral damage. We have to stop Zane, and soon. I haven’t practiced stopping a witch from using magic, but it’s been done enough to me that I understand the idea behind it. With a nod at Bria, the two of us step out into the hallway, eyes, minds, and energies locked on Zane.

  He raises his hand toward Felix, who’s on his hands and knees. Immediately, Felix’s eyes bulge and his hands go to his neck. Zane is choking him. I have to distract Zane—I have no idea how long it will take to disrupt his connection to the crystal. I slip off my shoe and throw it, hitting him squarely between the shoulder blades. He turns, and at the other end of the hall, Felix takes in a deep breath.

  Zane’s eyes narrow when they land on me and Bria and relief wells in my chest. We haven’t disconnected him from magic, but Felix can breathe, and I’ll take that. But a smile curls the edges of Zane’s mouth and I know I’ve miscalculated. Now he knows we’re here.

  An invisible pressure circles my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. A glance is all it takes to know I’m not the only one he’s doing it to—Bria and Felix are being affected too.

  I tamp down the rising panic and try to clear my mind. The only thing that will help us now is stopping Zane’s magic. My breath comes in shallow gasps, growing shallower by the second. I have to overwhelm Zane’s mind—make it impossible for him to link to the crystal. But as the pressure around my torso increases, I can’t think of a way to do it.

  Mrs. Hill’s door rattles on its hinge and a muffled shout passes into the hallway. Fox’s stormy eyes are wide,
terrified, as he pulls on the doorknob.

  Help. I mouth the word because there’s no breath left to make sound. Fox pounds at the glass upper half of the door, but it doesn’t crack. His distress seeps into the hall, washing over me. It overwhelms my senses and I stop trying to distract Zane from his spell.

  Overwhelms. As tiny explosions of light burst in my peripheral vision, the idea comes—so simple I’m surprised it’s not the first thing I tried. Instead of clearing my mind of the surge of emotions inside, I push them out, directing them at Zane. I pull along Fox’s anguish, and tug at Bria’s and Felix’s consciousness, urging them to do what I’m doing.

  The smug smile on Zane’s face flickers and the muscles in his jaw jump. Another second and he twitches, his hands going to the side of his head. The pressure around my middle subsides and I gulp in deep breaths. Bria pulls me into a tight hug, relieved laughter bubbling out of her. Down the hall, Felix grins, giving a thumbs up.

  The click-clack of high heels against the floor deflates my bubbling relief immediately. I turn, expecting to see Crystal Jamison or Lexie, but it’s Crystal Taylor—Mrs. Cole—who approaches. The overhead lights no longer flicker, and in their harsh glare, the flush in the principal’s cheeks is obvious. She points one red-tipped fingernail in our direction. “You four. My office. Now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  In the outer office, I sit between Bria and Felix on fabric-covered arm chairs whose cushioning has long since been squashed to nothingness. Crystal Taylor took Zane into her office first and gave strict instructions to her secretary that the three of us shouldn’t be allowed to talk. Under the secretary’s watchful, bespectacled eye, none of us has uttered a word. But it doesn’t mean we’re not communicating. To her, that I’m holding hands with both my friends probably appears to be out of nerves, but she doesn’t know what we are, what we can do.