The Amber Lee Boxed Set

by Katerina Martinez

  The last time we spoke… well, it wasn’t the best conversation we had ever shared. He had made his intentions clear; relationship or bust. But I broke his heart and said no. To think, the whole time we were involved I thought he would be the one to break mine. I thought, maybe, he would make fun of me in front of his friends one too many times, or he would hook up with another girl once he got bored of me. But he had feelings for me. Real feelings. He told me he had always had them.

  And I turned him down.

  I had always known there was goodness inside of him, and when that goodness showed itself to me I slapped it in the face and walked away. For Damien. It was laughable that I would end up being the bad guy in that relationship, but I had to think about myself for once.

  “Then we can’t be friends again,” he had said to me that day in his apartment.

  And all I said was “Alright. Keep the cupcakes.”

  I’m a bitch.

  But I had been given a chance to redeem myself, and I wasn’t about to turn it down.

  “Please,” he said.

  “Y-yeah,” I said, “Get in the car.”

  My hands were jelly on the wheel as I drove down the rest of the avenue. Aaron was quiet. It took a moment for me to register just how bad he looked up close. He had bags under his eyes, his breathing was short and his stubble was dirty. This wasn’t the Aaron I knew.

  “Aaron,” I said, “What… what the fuck happened to you?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but something isn’t right. I can feel it in my skin.” He showed me his wrists which were red raw and scabbed over.

  I swallowed and tried not to look directly at them. “Have you had a doctor look at that?”

  “No. No doctors.”

  “Listen, Aaron, I have to go hand something in at school and—”

  “I get it, you don’t have time,” he said, cutting me off.

  “No, no, it isn’t that. I just, if you don’t mind waiting for me, we can maybe go grab a coffee and some breakfast? What do you think?”

  “You… want to go get breakfast?”

  “Sure, I’m starving. My treat.”

  Aaron agreed after a moment’s hesitation, and after having had a good look at him I could see why he had hesitated. I also understood why he went everywhere with a hood over his head. He looked like some vagrant from off the street. Damaged. Helpless. The Aaron I knew was proud and stood tall, but this man was a shadow of what he had been; and I needed to know why.

  I gunned the car down the street, resisting the urge to turn every red light green as I went using Magick, and came to a halt outside of the Raven’s Hall main building in record time. I left Aaron in the car as I made the brisk walk up the campus’ stone path and stormed into the main building in search of the professor’s office.

  “Professor?” I asked when I got to his door. I knocked and tried to let myself in, but it was locked.

  “He’s out,” said his assistant, an older woman dressed in a brown cardigan with her grey hair tied up in a bun.

  Hesitating, I pulled the USB stick out of my pocket and approached the assistant at her desk. “Do you mind if I print this out and hand it to him?” I asked. “I don’t have a printer at home and—”

  “Be my guest,” she said, gesturing, disinterested, toward a free computer without removing her eyes from her crossword puzzle she was doing.

  Nine down is Melons, I thought.

  It only took me a few minutes to load the file up and print it out. I hoped I would catch the professor on his way in from wherever he had gone by the time the document had been printed and stapled together, but no. The warm paper went cool in my hands and I couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Excuse me,” I said, coming up to the assistant’s desk again.

  “Yes, miss?” This time she looked up at me, and both her eyebrows went up.

  “Okay, so, I was wondering,” I said, slipping the assignment across her table, “If you wouldn’t mind giving this to the professor when he came back from wherever he is.”

  “The dentist,” she said from behind a cold, hard stare.

  “Right, yes. So, would you mind? You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

  The woman took the document and perused the title, then gave me a sidelong glance of contempt and disapproval. A paper on demons and exorcisms handed in by a girl dressed all in black wearing dark lipstick? I didn’t need to read her mind to feel the righteous judgment coming my way in spades. If only she had a sword, I thought, I would be running for my life.

  “Of course,” she said, tucking the assignment away underneath her keyboard. “And your name is?”

  “It’s on the paper. Amber Lee.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets this, Miss Lee.”

  I smiled, gave her my thanks, and made the quick walk back to where I had parked my car, doing my best to push the woman’s judgments to the back of my mind. I had other things to worry about, like Aaron and the Professor. The words I wrote on my paper would speak for themselves. I was sure of it. He would see my brilliance and realize that I wasn’t a time waster and that I know what the heck I’m talking about. He just had to. This was my one chance at getting an extension.

  It had to work.

  Aaron was still waiting in the car when I returned, not that I thought he was going anywhere. We didn’t exchange words until we landed inside a café close to the school where we would be able to speak without distraction. I mean, I was driving; what kind of quality conversation could we have had when I needed to focus on the slippery road? He needed my full attention, and as awkward as our last tête-à-tête was, I would give him my all.

  Amidst the hiss of steamed milk and the clinking of cutlery on plates, Aaron and I had a moment to really look at each other. His lips were chapped and his eyes… like tarnished diamonds. The sparkle had gone right out of them. I didn’t know what he must have been thinking about me, though; me with my makeup and my freshness. I almost felt bad for looking good in front of him.

  “What the fuck happened to you, Aaron?” I asked, for the second time today.

  Aaron shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, seemingly too weak to even take offense to what I had said. “You look—”

  “Save it,” I said, cutting him off, “Please, just tell me what’s going on with you so that I can help, okay?”

  “Where should I start?”

  “How about you start at the beginning?”

  Aaron folded his arms at his chest and held his jacket closed tightly against his body. He was shivering. “When Kyle…” he looked up at me and paused.

  Kyle. My stomach floated high and took a sharp drop. “What about him?”

  “Before he left… he was… this was happening to him too.”

  “And what’s this, exactly?”

  Aaron paused. Hesitated. “I can’t eat… can’t sleep… I’ve had a fever for weeks that I can’t shake. And I’m always fucking angry.” He said the last part through a clenched jaw.

  “Aaron… have you gone to see a doctor?”

  “A doctor isn’t what I need.”

  “But if you’ve got a fever—”

  “I said it before, okay? No doctors.”

  Stubborn as ever. I sighed. “Fine.”

  “Did… you do something to me?” he asked.

  My muscles tightened. “Do… something? What do you mean?”

  “Like what you did to Kyle.”

  “And what do you think I did to Kyle?”

  Aaron caught my eyes and held them. “You put some kind of curse on him.”

  My palms were starting to sweat, now. “That’s ridiculous,” I said, “I didn’t do anything to you, Aaron.”

  “Can you swear it?”

  “Swear that I didn’t do anything to you?”

  “Yes. Swear it. On your life.”

  A waitress dropped a tray of ceramic
cups and they smashed on the floor. She threw a string of apologies at the customers and her manager, but no one seemed too impressed.

  “Aaron,” I said, taking his attention again, “I swear that I didn’t do anything to you.” I reached for his hand and squeezed. “I only want to help.”

  He glanced at our hands and then back at my eyes. His grip was weak, nothing like the strong, powerful man I used to know. Aaron had the constitution of an ox. He rarely fell sick. No. This sickly thing wasn’t the Aaron I knew. Something had happened to him; something inexplicable, and maybe even supernatural in origin.

  I may have not set a Succubus on him, but I was beginning to wonder if anyone else might have.

  “Why was it so important that I swear this for you?” I asked.

  “Because I know you’re… in to this kind of stuff.”

  “What, putting curses on people?”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t go that far, but… I just know what you’re into. I also knew you would believe me.”

  “Believe you about what?”

  Aaron paused. “When I say that I think something’s trying to get under my skin and take control of me.”

  I wasn’t sure what I believed, but I was a Witch. I could do Magick. And by the virtue of this simple fact alone, nothing was impossible. I had questions for him, of course, but he didn’t seem to be in the best of states for an interrogation. The questions would come once he was feeling better. And the first thing he needed was a good meal, a shower, and undisturbed sleep.

  “Alright,” I said, “I’ll help. You did the right thing in coming to me.”

  “But Amber,” he said, “Can we keep this quiet? I don’t want other people…”

  I agreed. Once again I found myself stuck in the awkward position of having to keep my relationship with Aaron a secret from everyone else. Talk about déjà vu. But what could I do? I had to help him. As a Witch it was my duty to help. And as his former… whatever I was… I didn’t want to see this man in pain.

  Damien would understand, when and if I decided to tell him.

  Chapter Nine

  A few days had passed since my first encounter with Aaron, and I had spent far more time at his place in those short days than I had in the last three months. And possibly in the entire time I had known Aaron. I was lucky that Damien was so cool with he and I having our own space, but I wasn’t comfortable with having to lie to him—or to Frank—about where I was and who I was spending my time with.

  Did I really have a choice, though?

  Aaron was going through something terrible. I didn’t quite know what it was, but it seemed to come and go in waves. Sometimes he would be himself; we would watch TV, talk, and catch up. Other times he would break out into intense fits, convulsing and frothing at the mouth. It felt, in his words, like his body was turning inside out; only there wasn’t any visible source to the pain. Everything was internal.

  The weirdest thing was this: according to Aaron, the last few days had been mild compared to what he had been going through before we had spoken. I wondered if what he was experiencing was psychological or physiological, but he refused to go and see a doctor. This was more than just a simple male reaction to members of the medical profession, though. It was like he had an aversion to hospitals and doctors, one I couldn’t understand.

  His refusal to real medical attention only made things worse, though. I wasn’t a doctor. And with no way to determine what the heck was afflicting him all I could do was help him with blind, generic Magick. On Sunday night—while Aaron slept next to me on the sofa—I knelt before him, stroked his hair and shoulders, and prayed to the Goddess to relieve his pain and cleanse his aura of negativity.

  I had hoped my Magick would work, but I didn’t stick around to find out. Seeing him on the sofa, breathing peacefully, was stirring a feeling inside of me. A feeling which under no circumstance could be allowed outside of the cage I had locked it in. And when I kissed his forehead to seal the Magick into him it felt like the cage was starting to crack. I had to leave. To get away. To go home.

  But home wasn’t waiting for me with open arms and a warm embrace.

  On Monday morning—just as I was about to leave for class—I came across a letter in my letterbox. I wasn’t used to receiving mail but the return address was Raven’s Hall, so I went back inside and read it on the kitchen table. Every word after “Dear Miss Lee” was like a hammer blow to the gut. I didn’t have to read far to get the gist of it.

  I had been expelled.

  My chest tightened. I read the letter again and again in disbelief. With every pass a kind of heady, hot energy filled me and caused my fingers to tremble. Expelled. Expelled? Who the fuck did they think they were to expel me like common academic trash? I didn’t deserve expulsion!

  Thunder rolled above. The bright sky darkened, and the letter burst into flames in my hand. I was quick to get it into the sink before I set the rest of the house on fire, but I could feel the heat flowing through me as I watched the paper disintegrate into a pile of ash in the sink. Still, that did nothing to calm my nerves. So I had missed a little class. A few months ago some madman stabbed me in the gut and tried to kill me. I was a Witch, for God’s sake. I lived in a world people couldn’t even begin wrap their minds around. This shouldn’t have been happening to me. I could have rushed into that school right now and cause all kinds of merry hell if I wanted to because they had no right to expel me out of the blue.

  And besides, where were all the warnings?

  My head started to spin. Answers. I needed answers. I rummaged around in my bag for my phone and pulled it out, called the school, and demanded to speak to the professor. Class hadn’t started yet so I was sure I would get through. I just had to.

  “Hello?” a male voice said.

  Another roll of thunder churned overhead.

  “Hi, Professor? It’s Amber Lee.”

  “Oh, yes. What can I do for you, Miss Lee?”

  I took a deep breath. “You can start by telling me why the hell I’ve been expelled from Raven’s Hall.”

  “Right, yes, of course. Well, for starters, you have missed many of your classes, and—”

  “I know I’ve missed a lot of class, but that isn’t—”

  “Please, Miss Lee, allow me to speak.”

  My voice was rapid-fire. I had to calm down.

  “Yes, so,” the professor continued, “Your attendance over the last few months has been completely unsatisfactory and you have missed the deadline on several assignments. I had hoped your performance would improve over time, but seeing as it hadn’t, I was left with no choice.”

  “But, I mean, this just hit me out of nowhere! I didn’t receive any warnings!”

  “Miss Lee, I assure you, all of the necessary measures were taken to ensure that you were informed about your unsatisfactory attendance and the fact that if you missed anymore assignments we would have to expel you.”

  “What measures did you take?”

  “We have sent you letters, and emailed you.”

  “I… I haven’t received anything!” I rushed at the letterbox with the phone still in my hand, half expecting to open it to a flood of letters I had somehow missed, but it was empty. “When did you send these letters and emails?” I asked.

  “Miss Lee, getting hold of you over the last month or so has been a difficult exercise. Whether you have received the letters and the emails or not is immaterial. They were sent to the addresses you provided to us when you enrolled.”

  “Why couldn’t you have told me at class?”

  “Because, Miss Lee, it wasn’t my place to tell you in person; although as time went on, I wished I had.”

  “This can’t be happening! I’m a good student, Professor. You know that! Didn’t you read the paper I gave you last week?”

  “What paper?”

  “The… the paper on Demons and the Church. I left it with your assistant on Wednesday. I wanted to give it to you in person but you weren’t there. Don’t
tell me you didn’t get it.”

  “No, I’m afraid I didn’t.”

  It was like being stabbed in the stomach all over again; a cold, quick incision which burned straight after.

  “You have to check with your assistant! I left it there for you! I even finished all of the other assignments! I caught up!" My voice was shaking.

  The professor fell silent. “Amber,” he said, in a low voice “Last week I pulled your phone number from your file and tried to call you. A few times.”

  “You… tried to… to call me?” I stumbled over my words. I hadn’t gotten any calls from the professor. Come to think of it, I hadn’t gotten any calls at all in a while. I had made calls, though, so I knew my phone was working. It didn’t make sense. Was he lying to me? And if so, why?

  “Amber, I’m afraid that your expulsion stands.”

  “What? But… that can’t be right, you can’t just expel me like that.”

  A strange gargling sound came through the phone and my ear started to burn. I removed the phone from my head but it went white hot in my hand! I dropped it on the ground and it bounced on the carpet. I thought it was going to explode, but it lay there, inert. Did I do that? Was that my Magick acting out?

  I knelt before the phone, felt its edges with my fingertips—cool—and picked it back up, but something didn’t quite feel right. The phone felt heavy and sticky. I chalked it down to nerves and said, into the phone, “Professor? Are you still there?”

  I heard breathing on the other line; heavy grunting of some kind, like the kind a pig might make. “You did this to yourself,” a male voice said, and the line went dead.

  I tried to call back but got no answer, not from him or his assistant. Then I went around the kitchen and checked in cupboards and drawers to see if, maybe, I had absentmindedly brought mail in from the mailbox but not checked them—a totally normal thing to happen to a person. But I found nothing; no mail whatsoever. No emails. No calls and no voicemails.

  Well, shit.

  Chapter Ten

  By the time I left my house whatever clouds had been circling above earlier on had left and made way to an intense and thawing sunlight which left the town covered a shimmering mantle of wetness. Part of me wanted to consider what I was seeing as some kind of a new beginning as the sparkle made everything seem brand new, fresh, and clean. But I was way too engrossed in my own anger to see any positives.