Love Spells and Other Disasters

by Angie Barrett

  “I am.”

  At least one person doesn’t hate me. I relax into her arms. “Ethan won’t talk to me and half the school is angry, even some of the teachers. There was a mob of them demanding I write new spells. I don’t think I can even go back to school.”

  “Oh, dear…well…” Mom winces. “Lillian must have told you. Even if you didn’t have these emerging abilities, love spells are not something you play around with. There are consequences for spells like these. But again, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what could happen.”

  I get quiet for a few minutes. Maybe Mom should have told me, but would I have believed her if she did? “I don’t think it would have made a difference. I’m beginning to think that this all happened for a reason.” I gulp as my mind drifts back to the reflection I saw in the window last night. “I’m pretty sure I saw Dad when I was casting the reversal spell.”

  Mom jolts and I can tell she’s doing everything she can to contain her reaction. “Really?” Her voice quivers a little.

  I pull myself back a bit so I can look at her. “While I was chanting, I kept getting the feeling that someone was watching me but I wasn’t freaked out.” Not totally anyway. “I actually felt, I don’t know, safe maybe? Comforted? Protected?” I nod. “At some point, when my eyes were really unfocused, I remember seeing the silhouette of someone standing just behind me.” I shrug. “Maybe it was just wishful thinking but I swear he put his hand on my shoulder and told me that it would all work out.”

  “No, honey, I don’t think it was just wishful thinking.” She squeezes me back to her chest and holds me tight. “I think he was there with you. Guiding you. That’s what he would have done if he were still alive. He would have made sure you knew that everything would turn out okay.”

  For the first time in my life, I really believe my mom’s words and I accept the strange idea that my dad is here, still protecting us, even as a ghost.

  “Thanks, Dad.” My voice cracks. “Any time you want to pop by, feel free.” Mom kisses the top of my head. “We’d both like that a lot.”

  “Yes, we definitely would,” Mom says.

  We’re quiet again and I feel like at least a part of my life is back on track. The gaping hole in my heart that’s been hemorrhaging for the last twenty-four hours is not quite as huge. Well, except for that part that belonged to Luca.

  “I lost Luca, too,” I croak. “Because of the spells.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. He was a nice boy and I know you liked him.”

  “I didn’t realize I’d used a spell to call him. I wrote a generic one, the first one actually, but I didn’t take it seriously. I didn’t believe it would work. It was pretty terrible, actually.” I try to chuckle, but my voice is too thick and I feel tears threatening to burst free again. “I shouldn’t have written any of those spells. Everything is so messed up. But Abby needed me to do them at first. To keep doing them. She’s trying to get this internship and she needed a reference letter from our teacher. We needed to impress him with our project and I owed it to her to get this right.”

  I groan and sit up. “I should have stopped sooner. I kept doing them even after I knew they were working. And then I wrote one for her parents to get back together.” I drop my head into my hands. “I feel so bad. I thought reversing the spells would fix everything. Like maybe they’d all magically feel better. I just want everyone to be okay.”

  Mom rubs my back. “Well, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that time heals and that there’s always a way to set things right.”

  I frown up at her. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  She laughs. “Your dad, when he was convincing me that he was sorry and that we belonged together…he did things for me. Things he knew would make me happy, make my life easier.”

  “But without magic, right?”

  She squeezes me in a big hug. “Yep, without magic. He thought about the things I’d told him I like, or the things that were getting in the way of my happiness, and he found ways to fix them or to get them for me. He worked longer hours at his job at the college pub so that he could buy me a new bike because mine was old and rusty. He knew how much I liked riding to my classes.”

  My mind starts to whirl with possibilities.

  “And he convinced one of my professors to let me help him with an experiment he was running that he’d closed to second-year students.”

  I know things that people want and need. Things that Abby wants. Things that Ethan needs. “I could do that?”

  I feel Mom nod. “Yes.”

  “But it’ll take months to fix it all.”

  “It likely will.” She squeezes me again. “But if it’s important to you to fix this, you’ll find ways to do it, no matter how long it takes.”

  And with that, for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel like maybe things might be okay after all.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I have ideas. Lots of ideas.

  Problem is, while I want to make things right, going back to school when everyone really hates you is super hard.

  I take solace in the belief that my dad is with me, giving me his support in whatever ghostly way he has. I’m not going to lie—I also cast a protection spell around myself. It’s supposed to deflect negative, unwanted energy from people, like being wrapped in a bubble. I can see and hear things but no one is going to be able to cause me direct harm. It’s probably the kind of spell everyone could use now and again, but for me, it’s going to help keep things focused on the good I need to do. I’m not going to pretend I know everything there is to know about magic, but I’m learning. I figure that if I’m going to be gifted with this ability to do magic like my dad was, I might as well start to use it more responsibly.

  So, while I’m getting a lot of glares and most people won’t talk to me, nothing truly bad has happened.

  I am lonely, though. I miss Ethan and Luca. I even miss Abby in a weird way, and yes, I know that’s majorly screwed up.

  I spent my night brainstorming how to help the people I know, like Ethan, but the others I’m not so sure about. I don’t know them well enough, so it’s going to take time and maybe a little luck to find out what they need.

  Sitting in math class the day after the mob nearly devoured me seems a little surreal. Most people are pretending I don’t exist, which is fine. I’m used to that. Ethan isn’t here and that worries me. Math isn’t his favorite class, I know, but he can’t avoid me forever. Can he? He’s definitely doing a great job ignoring my texts.

  Amanda scurries in just at the bell. She looks tired, with big bags under her eyes, and her body seems curled in on itself like she’s trying to disappear. She’s clutching her textbook like it’s the most precious thing to her. The seat next to her is empty. Will is sitting in his usual spot at the back of the room, laughing with his friends and otherwise ignoring his former girlfriend.

  “Pop quiz!” Our teacher, Miss Canner, has her back to us while she puts a bunch of equations on the board. “With a twist!”

  Miss Canner loves these surprise assessments. She has crazy ideas for stressing her students out that she claims teach us how to be resilient. “You can partner up, but choose wisely—your partner may make or break your grade.”

  She turns and smiles like a mad scientist or something. I think she really gets off on torturing her students. “Get out some paper and start working. I want to see your thinking, so make sure you show your process.”

  I glance over at Amanda because I know she doesn’t usually do well on these surprise tests. Her head is on her desk and I can see her taking deep breaths. Typically, no one partners with her by choice, so she’s always left with that kid who doesn’t seem to know how to multiply.

  I slide from my seat, feeling a little like hyperventilating myself because everyone suddenly turns to look at me, everyone except Amanda. I walk across the classroo
m and it’s the longest walk of my life. There are whispers and someone barks a cruel sounding laugh. Someone else kicks a chair toward me but it stops before it can hit me. Magic for the win.

  “Can we be partners?” My voice is a little shaky but I know Amanda hears me because she freezes and then slowly, very slowly, looks up at me. Her eyes are bloodshot and it’s obvious that she’s fighting tears. I hold my breath because I know it’s possible she’ll reject me and the help I’m offering.

  She blinks, then frowns.

  Someone laughs behind me.

  Amanda’s eyes flick to glance around me. Her frown deepens.

  “Don’t partner with Rowan. She’ll ruin your life,” someone growls. “What a weirdo.”

  I flinch. I’m locked in on Amanda’s eyes and feel like time has frozen. I can’t turn back to my desk and face the people who I know are behind me. I glance at the door. I so badly want to walk right out, never come back to this class or this school.

  Amanda pushes the chair next to her out. It screeches across the floor. I find the courage to look her in the eyes again. She isn’t smiling but she also isn’t scowling. She nods to the chair.

  The tension across my shoulders eases and I slide down into the seat. There’s a lot of chatter happening around us, directed at us. It feels like rocks being thrown. I’m bringing so much attention to Amanda right now and I know that’s crappy for her. Especially since it’s not exactly pleasant for me, either. I didn’t think this through. I should probably leave her alone.

  “Get to work. I’m only giving you fifteen minutes to do this,” Miss Canner barks.

  The chatter stops.

  Amanda opens her notebook. “I don’t hate you.” She’s not looking at me right now. “But what you did, it wasn’t very nice.”

  I gulp. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it. Any of it.”

  Amanda nods, wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and then glances at me. “But still, kinda cool that you can do magic, right?” She chews on her bottom lip. “If anyone could do something like that, it would be you.”

  “I’ve been hearing that lately. I guess I have a reputation for being different. Who knew?” I smile back at her so she knows I’m teasing.

  “I really need your help with this.” She taps the notebook. “I don’t know what I’m doing in this class lately.”

  “Consider me your math slave for the rest of the year if you want.” I touch her hand. “I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

  A small smile creeps onto Amanda’s face and I know, I just know, things are going to be okay.

  …

  I spend the rest of the week doing things for others. Even if I didn’t sell them a love spell, I still make sure that acts of kindness are part of every interaction I have. It’s something I should have been doing anyway. It makes me feel less like a malfunctioning antisocial human and more like an active participant in life, doing what I can to connect to others, to be socially involved and socially responsible. I’m totally out of my comfort zone, but again, I feel like Dad is with me every step of the way. Talking to people doesn’t make me feel awkward—it makes me feel empowered.

  One of the things I start doing immediately is spending time with Mr. Tremmel. He runs an early morning breakfast program and he’s always begging for volunteers to help. Each morning, as I’m walking down the long hall that will take me to Mr. T’s breakfast room, I focus on how important it is for Abby to get her referral so she can get her scholarship and so that she can participate in the internship she so badly wants. I’m using my power of intention but not directly on Mr. Tremmel. Not really. I’m just making sure those thoughts about helping Abby are at the front of my mind every morning as I step into his room.

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Rowan Marshall.” After three days of coming, this is the first time Mr. Tremmel has spoken to me beyond food preparation instructions. “I’m not changing your mark.”

  “I don’t expect that, sir.” I wash my hands, then grab an apron. “I deserve the mark I got.”

  He hasn’t shaved this morning, just like the mornings before, so he’s looking even more scruffy. I know he was impacted by one of my spells and I feel really badly about that because he’s obviously suffering.

  I get to work slicing apples.

  He’s cooking scrambled eggs. There are two other students in the room working on making toast. The program usually brings in quite a few students from our school but we also prepare food to be taken over to the nearby elementary school.

  “What you and Abby did was very irresponsible,” he says abruptly. He isn’t looking at me but I nod anyway.

  “I agree. It was.”

  He nods, too, and continues to stir the eggs. “I don’t understand how you were doing it. I know your mother is some kind of expert in the field of…” He waves the spatula, flinging a bit of egg onto the counter. “You know, strange and unusual things. I’m not usually a believer of the unbelievable, but since I’ve felt the impact of one of your spells, I know they work. What you did, it was no joke.” His voice sounds sad, broken, and I feel terrible all over again.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Tremmel. Truly. If I could take it all back I would. It was all me. I figured out early on that my spells were working and I kept using them. I know I hurt a lot of people. I know my actions have hurt you.”

  He keeps busy for a while, dividing the eggs up into containers and sealing them. The elementary teachers will be coming by soon to pick the food up. I’m putting the apples in a larger container for them to take as well.

  “Did you learn something from what happened, Rowan?” He looks at me then and I see that his eyes are bloodshot.

  I nod. “I should never have meddled in other people’s lives. I’m trying to make it right.”

  He studies me for a minute. “You’ve always been diligent with your work.”

  “My mess. My responsibility to clean it up.”

  “And where’s your partner in all this? Does she take no responsibility?” Mr. Tremmel huffs, then turns back to cooking more eggs.

  “Abby wasn’t the one writing the spells, Mr. T. That’s all on me. She was only doing what you asked her to do, create a kick-butt marketing project. Which she did.”

  “Her ethics were off.”

  “Everyone makes mistakes. Abby wasn’t trying to hurt anyone and like I said, she wasn’t the one writing the spells.” I pull the bacon out of the oven and get ready to pile it into containers once it cools a little. “Abby is working with Student Council every morning on the morale boosting project she started. She knows what we did impacted things here in a really bad way and she’s working on it.” I haven’t actually spoken to Abby about her own endeavors. I’ve just been watching from the sidelines and I know she’s trying to fix things in her own Abby way.

  “It must have been strange to discover you have powers,” Mr. T says. “Exciting, too, I bet. Your mother must be thrilled.”

  I smile and nod. “Strange. Exciting. Frightening like you wouldn’t believe. I’m sure Mom will be writing a book about it, too.”

  “That might be something for you to do.” He moves to the sink to rinse off his hands. “Could be a good business plan for you. What to do if your spells work. Like a self-help book.”

  “Follow in my mom’s footsteps? Become a best-selling author?” I like the sound of that.

  Mr. Tremmel grunts in a way that sounds like a laugh but he doesn’t say anything more. At least he’s talking to me now. It gives me hope that I’ll be able to change his mind about Abby and help her get the things she needs from him.

  My afternoons are filled with different activities depending on the day. Today I’m tutoring freshmen. The peer-tutoring program has been around for a while, but I never paid a lot of attention to it before now. Walking in the room has me feeling a li
ttle self-conscious because, of course, a lot of our customers were younger students. When they see me, they stop working and look up with surprise.

  I’m expecting a flash of lingering bitterness or anger toward me but instead I’m greeted with a warm welcome from Ms. Black. “I heard that you were joining different social programs and lending a hand.” She takes my arm and leads me farther into the room. “That’s the best way to make amends.” She leans closer. “I’ve been meaning to find you, Rowan. I wanted to let you know that I forgive you. You have a special gift and I realize that you maybe didn’t know how to use it properly. I suspect that now you do.”

  I gulp and nod. The sting of tears hits the backs of my eyes. “Thank you. Yes, I do.”

  She pats my back, then turns to address the room. “Everyone, please welcome Rowan who has come to help you with your work. She’s a very smart girl so don’t be shy about asking her to sit with you.”

  There are twenty students in the room, more than I was expecting for a tutoring program. Three of them are older students who are presumably there to tutor and the rest are all freshmen.

  One boy puts his hand up. “Can Rowan come over here to help us?”

  “Of course she can!” Ms. Black gives me a reassuring nod.

  I make my way over to the table where five boys sit huddled together. “What are you stuck on?” I slide into the seat and lean in so I can get a look at the computer screen.

  “We’re doing a science project on magic.” One of the boys shoves his computer at me. “We need you to see if we’re on the right track.”

  I laugh, can’t help it. “Magic?”

  “Yeah, does magic really exist? We have some experiments planned. What do you think?”

  I lean closer and smile. “I think that’s probably something I can help you with.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Surprisingly, my acts of kindness are leading to other people doing something kind for someone else. It’s weird but true. It’s like a cascading effect. After I help someone, I notice that they go on to help someone else, and then that person takes it forward to someone else. I can slowly see a shift in school spirit. Even the teachers are starting to get in on it and that makes me feel like I’m doing something right. It’s making the rest of April less dreary and depressing. People are smiling again.