Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1)

by Sheena Boekweg

  “There are brownies in the kitchen,” I said.

  While he was dishing up, I dialed the message open and then put the phone on speaker. He sat down on the couch next to me, my toes brushed against his legs, so I slid them underneath me.

  After the message played, Joe in a remarkably astute way, said, “so?”

  “So?” I said, “Seriously! Okay, first off, how did she meet my mom a week ago? That’s not possible. Someone must have transformed to look like my mom, found out, I don’t know, stuff about us, the water thing probably, and at least that we are spending a lot of time together. Then what, three days later, the Grandmothers lay a trap to give us a warning. Which means, I’m guessing here, a Grandmother was talking to your mom?”

  “You’ve been bottling this up since you got home haven’t you?” he asked.

  “Shut up,” I said. “And yes.”

  He laughed and I stuck out my tongue at him.

  “This is serious. Okay, where was I?” I took a deep breath. “Second, how am I gonna get my dead mom to talk to your mom about us…” I held up my fingers and made quote signs, “dating.”

  “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Riz. My mom will calm down.” He put his hand on my knee. “You and I both know we’re just friends, and she’ll figure it out too, eventually.”

  I looked down at the carpet. He moved his hand.

  “Seriously Larissa, don’t worry,” he said. “She loves you; it’s me she can’t stand.”

  Why was Joe’s mom the only one in that family who loved me? That’s what I’d like to know.

  “She loves you, Joe.” He looked over at me, the sunflower in his eyes focused on mine as if I was their sunshine. “I know she does.”

  He gave me a half smile. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

  I shrugged. We just looked at each other for a moment, I could feel heat from his eyes focus in on my lips for a second, and then he looked away.

  “Okay,” I said. “So Joe, you want to help me steal something?”

  Joe laughed once and leaned back on the couch. “Hells yeah. What do you want? You want to break into a bank? Fort Knox? I could totally do it.”

  “And then totally get caught,” I said.

  “How would they catch me?” He said with a cocky emphasis on the word ‘me.’

  “Um, with cameras,” I said. “Oh, and then a field of agents who would know you can walk through walls and carry guns. Like it or not Joe, you aren’t invincible. They shoot you, you die.”

  Joe faked being shot and then pretended he died, collapsing over my legs, which was funny then but isn’t now.

  I laughed. “We’re not stealing any money.”

  He sat back up. “Oh man, I’ve been waiting for the chance to get some real money since that first wall opened up.” Joe scratched the side of his neck.

  “Technically, we’re not stealing anything,” I said, “just retrieving something that’s mine.”

  “Done,” he said.

  “You know how I’ve told you before about my mom’s notebook,” I started.

  “That’s what we’re stealing,” he finished for me. “Done. Do you know where it is?”

  “No clue.”

  “Well, that makes it harder, but we can still do it,” he said.

  I smiled at his bravado. I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy though. Even if I did know where my mom’s notebook was at that point, getting away with it would be impossible with only ten runes.

  If only there was a way to get my hands on someone else’s notebook, just for a minute. I could borrow a few more runes. Give myself more of a chance to get the notebook back.

  I didn’t really know any other Runes. Except… I laughed. This was the dumbest idea I’ve ever had. So dumb, in fact, it might work.

  “But first, we have to ‘borrow’ something I’ve got no right to,” I said.

  “Every time I see you, Rizzo, you get more interesting.” He smiled, and I rolled my eyes. “So what are we borrowing?” he asked, his eyebrows rising up and down like Groucho Marx.

  I smiled.

  “We,” I said, trying very hard not to get excited about the casual use of the word, “are going to borrow a Grandmother’s notebook.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Giara was all too happy to talk to me when I called her the next day. Maybe too happy for a Grandmother who had just threatened me with my sweet sister’s lost shoe.

  I told her I was in a crisis, and I needed someone to be my mom to meet Joe’s mom. Might as well have her talk to Ms. P. while we were at it, and kill two birds with one Rune, or whatever. Either way, she was willing to come out to help me.

  The whole day, through second period and all through lunch, Joe and I passed notes and talked in whispers, refining our plan. My friends looked at us weird, but again Joe didn’t care, so why should I?

  Giara’s plane landed at three, and she would be up here around four. We planned to meet with Ms. P. later at the restaurant my parents used to own. There the moms could talk to us about how to date without throwing away our futures. During which time, Joe would trade Giara’s notebook with a lookalike we bought on the way to school. Giara’s notebook was sleek black leather, and the look-alike cost a week’s worth of groceries. Hopefully it’d be worth it. After Joe swapped notebooks, he’d duck out and copy as many runes as he could, while I got the bulk of the maternal warnings. Then he’d return the real notebook and swap out the fake.

  With a plan that simple, how could we fail?

  Giara ran late and arrived at my house at four fourteen. She knocked on the door, and then opened it as if she owned the place. I followed behind her as she walked into my parent’s bedroom to borrow one of my mom’s outfits. My parent’s room was still chaotic and dusty. I forgot to clean up before she came, I was so nervous.

  I stood outside my parent’s room with a Grandmother inside. My heel started tapping against the carpet, and I took a deep breath and forced my body to be still.

  Giara opened the door, and my mom walked out. Giara is a genius with transformation runes. Her eyes looked just like mine, but had that same tired overcast shadow my mom always had. There was a chicken pox scar in exactly the right spot on her forehead. The short curly style my mom always liked, even when better trends came and went, seemed less embarrassing than before. I had forgotten how beautiful my mom was. I was starting to forget what she looked like. In my mom’s clothes, Giara even smelled like my mom.

  My breath caught in my throat. This wasn’t a good idea, but even if it failed, it was worth it so I could see my mom again. Giara looked at my mom’s watch and in my mom’s voice she said, “We’re going to be late, Larissa.”

  I nodded, not trusting my voice enough to speak, and I followed her down the stairs and out the door. Giara drove the car, waving to almost everyone we saw, proving, I guess, to them that my mom was still alive.

  We walked into Javier’s a little late. Joe and his mom were already there, sitting in the corner booth I took naps in when I was a toddler. They rested their arms on the tables I had colored on when I was in kindergarten and did my homework on almost every night as I ate chips and salsa after school. The wait staff cheered when we walked in. Stan, the new owner, came up to my ‘mom’ and me and shook our hands. Stan used to dress up as Santa Claus for me every Christmas until I was thirteen. Some of these people I have known forever. It was a mistake coming here. They spoke to me in a mixture of Spanish and English, Giara nodded as if she understood but looked to me to translate.

  “Me alegro de verte,” Good to see you, I said walking through the group of people who had once been like family to me but that I hadn’t spoken to in almost a year. Ms. P. stood when we reached the table and held her hand out. Joe looked at me with an excited smile on his face, but I couldn’t return his smile. I didn’t have it in me.

  They sat us down on the same side of the booth, Giara and Ms. P. taking the other side. Joe sat on the open edge of the booth, Giara sat on the other, her purs
e on the floor next to her. I assumed the notebook was in her purse.

  I looked over at Joe. I must have looked scared or something, because Joe leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, Riz. We got this.” He put his hand on my knee, to stop it from shaking up and down.

  I took a deep breath and then, together, we turned to face our mothers.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Giara started, “I was afraid this would happen ever since the divorce went final.”

  I looked down at the table. Ms. P. spoke, “She didn’t tell me you were divorced.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. She’s been going through a rebellious stage.” Giara took a long drink of water, then continued, “It’s been hard on her. She misses her father and her little sister who are living in California. Plus with my new job, I’ve been traveling and working late hours, so she’s been on her own more than is probably good for her.”

  “Hello, I’m right here,” I said to everyone’s surprise, including my own. I just hated when adults talked about you like you weren’t there.

  “Yes, Larissa, I see you.” Giara said in my mother’s voice. She turned back to Ms. P. “I think the first rule should be that Joe absolutely cannot be at my house when I’m not there.”

  “Absolutely,” Ms. P. said.

  “Fine,” Joe said looking at Giara and not at his mother. “I promise I will never be at your house when you are not there.”

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Giara looked back directly at Joe and winked so that Ms. P. didn’t see. I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “And anyway,” Joe continued, “none of this matters. Larissa and I are just friends.”

  Ms. P. started in, “And absolutely no lying in bed together.”

  “Larissa,” Giara said, shocked. “You know better than to do that.”

  I put my head down on the table. Joe stood up.

  “You know, whatever you guys decide about my life, I’ll do. This is ridiculous.” He reached down to the ground to pick up his coat. “I’m going outside.”

  He stormed out of the restaurant. When he got to the front door, he turned and pushed the door open with his back. He smiled at me, pulling the corner of Giara’s notebook out of his crumpled up coat.

  The two women carried on, and I tuned them out as best as I could. I just sat there eating chips dipped in that familiar salsa, occasionally glancing outside to see how Joe was getting on.

  It was nice though, to see my mother’s face again, saying the things my mom would have said if she were there. As I watched them talk, their words started to sink in. I realized my mom wouldn’t have liked what I’d done, what I’d wanted to do. They were right. I should be smarter. The only thing that really stood between a life-altering mistake and me was the fact that Joe didn’t like me.

  “You know what,” I said, interrupting Ms. P. saying something about curfews, “you’re right. I’ve been stupid. I need to set a line for myself.”

  I looked at Giara and my mom’s face looked back at me.

  “Mom,” I said, and then because my voice cracked when I said that name I haven’t said in too long, I started again. “Mom, I promise I won’t do anything dumb.”

  Giara reached forward and took my hand in her own. There was silence at the table, as tears ran down my face.

  “That’s good enough for me,” she said.

  Ms. P. smiled at me; tears were in her eyes but none fell. “That’s good enough for me too.”

  We smiled at each other; I laughed a strange explosive crying laugh, and I wiped my face. The bell on the door rang when Joe walked back inside the restaurant. He dropped his coat next to Giara’s purse, and then sat at the table.

  “When did the food get here?” he said as he reached for a chip.

  I shook my head and laughed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Overall, it was a pleasant criminal experience. Giara and Ms. P. seemed to like each other as allies in the war against teenage promiscuity. Joe and I relaxed in the vinyl booth. We made wise and witty comments as we ate the food that felt like home. I should have gone back there more. That restaurant stood as a living reminder that my family had existed.

  We left, and Giara gave Ms. P. a hug. She said they would talk later, and then we walked together through the biting chill to the Toyota. When we got inside, Giara turned to me.

  “You tried to steal my notebook,” she said.

  I looked at the road in front of me, and glanced over to where Joe was opening the car door for his mother.

  “I…um…the word I’d use is borrow,” I said.

  “You really thought I wouldn’t put protections on my own notebook?” she said. “How dumb do you think I am? About as dumb as you are apparently.”

  That last sentence she mumbled as if she didn’t mean for me to hear it. I put my hand against my hairline and looked away. My knee started jumping up and down again. Giara took a deep breath.

  “You really don’t want me as your enemy,” she warned.

  “I only know ten runes, Giara. Ten. My mom’s notebook had ten runes on a page.” Giara looked away and started the car. “Do you know where my mom’s notebook is now, Giara?”

  Giara wouldn’t look at me. “No, I don’t.” She faced me, and we both knew she was lying.

  “What am I supposed to do without it?” I looked down at my hands. My legs, surprisingly, were still. “I’m useless. I can’t do anything helpful…” I breathed out. “Meaningful.”

  Giara was silent for a moment. Finally she spoke. “You could have asked.”

  “And you would have taught me?” I asked incredulously.

  I had thought stealing the notebook would be my only option, but maybe I should have just asked her for help. I’d viewed the Grandmothers as my enemies since my family died, but maybe there was another option. My mom’s voice reminded me that there was always a choice, if I took the time to look for one.

  Giara looked me over, as if judging my worth. I sat up taller in my seat.

  “Why not?” she said, turning back to the road.

  “Teach me,” I said. “Please Giara. Anything at all.”

  “Anything? Oh, I could teach you everything,” she said with a smile. “But first, tell me something.”

  My stomach muscles clenched.

  “This boy, this Instinct of yours.”

  I swallowed.

  “Can he do runes?” she asked.

  I sat back in the seat in silence. They didn’t know. The Grandmothers suspected, but they didn’t know Joe could do runes, not for sure. Maybe they weren’t my enemy, but they were Joe’s. My heart pounded, and I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I couldn’t lie to her, could I?

  “Joe’s a good person,” I said. “He’s obnoxious sometimes, but he… he’s used his magic to save regular peoples’ lives. He has gotten up early and walked through snow to shovel my sidewalk. He’s the best person I know. I… I love him. However, I promise you if he ever uses a rune, I will tell you. Just don’t hurt him.”

  I looked over at Giara. My mother’s face smiled at me like that was what she wanted all along, and I realized what I said.

  I just promised to be the Grandmothers’ spy.

  She pulled the car into my driveway, and then held her hand up to shake mine. Reluctantly I raised my hand, and she wrote a rune on the back of my palm. My own color code, a light purple, and hers, a dark green, twisted together into a braided rope of runelight that circled my wrist and ended at the rune, tying our hands together in a binding of light.

  “Do you have your notebook?” she asked as the runelight nestled into the skin on my right hand and then sank in, binding me to fulfill my promise to betray Joe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It’s funny, sometimes you want something so much, that when you get it, you just feel empty. That’s how I felt. Empty. Eerily calm. Different, really, as I sat on my front steps with my notebook in my lap. One hundred and thirty seven. A hundred and thirty sev
en runes.

  That was the cost of selling out the one person I’d ever loved. And I did love him, line in the sand or not. My only hope, really, of liking myself when I died was that Joe wouldn’t ever use a rune again.

  And you’ve probably figured out by now that wasn’t how it happened.

  I waited on my front steps for Joe to show up. It was cold, freezing actually, but I didn’t care that Giara had taught me a rune to stay warm. I didn’t have a single rune on. I wasn’t thin. My hair felt flat around my face, and I had acne on my skin.

  Didn’t care.

  Joe didn’t notice anyway. About a half hour after Giara left, he walked up my driveway with a gigantic smile on his face. He fanned the imitation notebook in front of his face, and when he reached me, he picked me up and spun me. “We did it.”

  “Can I see it?” I asked.

  Joe handed it to me as if it was a trophy. The runes inside were wrong, lines drawn backwards, dots where slashes should be. I wrote the rune for fire on the top, and the notebook burst into a cloud of flames. I tossed it down on the snow, and it melted some of the snow until there was a hollow spot where the grass showed through.

  “What are you doing!” Joe yelled.

  I stood and walked up the stairs. I turned when I reached the doorknob.

  “Are you an Instinct or a Rune, Joe?” I said. “You don’t get to be both. You don’t have any right looking at runes. And if you learn any more, it’s just gonna get us both killed.”

  I opened the door and took a step inside it.

  “Good girl,” Joe said. I froze. “But next time don’t push him so far away, you need to be close enough you can still see what he’s doing.”

  I stood in the doorway with my eyes closed.

  “Have a good trip, Giara.” I said and then turned once to get a look at her handy work.

  She got it all right. Joe’s black earrings, his deep v neck tee shirt and green jacket, his amazing smile.