Tales of Aradia The Last Witch Volume 1

by L. A. Jones

  “Oh please. Like they’d even help."

  The boy was clearly freaked by Aradia, but his interest was definitely piqued.

  Raising an eyebrow, he cautiously asked, "What can you do?"

  Aradia held up the small white container she’d summoned. It was filled with about two ounces of peach-colored cream. She’d mixed it at the same time as her anti-blemish balm.

  "Ah, I see. You’re going to make me wear makeup." The boy said incredulously. “Because that totally makes sense.”

  "No! This isn't makeup, this is cream, and it can heal sprained limbs." I think. Or maybe it cures hiccups. Or causes hiccups. Aradia wasn’t always so good at getting her potions to do what she wanted them to do.

  Jayce looked at her skeptically. "Look, um, thanks for the, ah, help, but I think I’m going to take Frasier up on his offer for a ride to the hospital."

  I guess that’s the nurse, Aradia noted, filing the name away.

  "Oh c'mon, Jayce, what have you got to lose?" Aradia argued.

  The boy shrugged and seemed about to acquiesce, but after a second he turned to her suspiciously.

  "How’d you know my name was Jayce?" he demanded.

  “I heard Frasier use it,” she replied happily. Gesturing with the cream, she asked, “You going to trust me on this?”

  "Trust you? I have no clue who you are. Do you even go to school here?"

  "I’m new," Aradia said with a shrug. "Look, if this turns out to be something that screws you over, you know where to find me. You can come kick my ass or call me names or do whatever jocks do to get even."

  “I wouldn’t hit a girl.”

  “How antiquated of you. Look!" Aradia practically shouted, tired of arguing with him. "I am trying to help you out of the goodness of my heart. Just don’t make me regret it, okay? Now shut up and hold still, I’m thinking this’ll hurt."

  Before Jayce could argue, she grabbed his ankle and tried not to retch from the smell of his sweaty, smelly feet. He grimaced from the pressure, but did a pretty good job of holding his ankle steady as she applied the cream.

  Noticing that he had his eyes clenched closed, she decided to speed up the process. Two seconds later, the tips of her fingers glowed white. Her summoning was dim in the bright sunlight, and Aradia was confident it went unnoticed.

  “There,” she said, and gingerly set down his ankle.

  “Ah, thanks,” Jayce said. “I’m going to go to the hospital now. I’ll see you around.”

  “D-d-d-d!” she sounded at him, holding up a now non-glowing finger. “Give it a minute.”

  “You’re weird,” he said bluntly, but he gave it a minute.

  “How do you feel?” Aradia asked nervously. No hiccups or boils or sprouting horns, so far, which was good.

  “Actually,” he said, “it doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Hardly at all. What was that, something to numb it?”

  “Take a look at your foot,” she said, grinning.

  He did. The ankle was still slightly swollen, and a little purple, but he could see dramatic improvement.

  “No way.”

  “Way!” She quickly added, "Now I can't be sure if it helped you all the way. You might reinjure it. Stay off the ankle as much as you can and soak it for a couple days. Do you have Epson salt at home?”

  He shook his head. “I dunno.”

  “You drive?”

  He nodded.

  “Pick some up on the way home. It’s easy to find. They’ll have it at CVS.”

  “What’s CVS?”

  “Oh, right. Um, Walgreens? Any drug store. Follow the instructions on the box for soaking. I think you'll be ready to rumble by homecoming game time."

  "Ready to rumble?” he asked, raising his eyebrow again.

  "You know you're going to go blind if you keep doing that," Aradia quipped, raising her own eyebrow back at him.

  Jayce chuckled. "Hey, thanks," he said, sincerely this time.

  “No problemo.”

  He began to walk toward the parking lot, taking care with his footing. Suddenly, he stopped and turned back to her. "Look, I appreciate you helping me out and all, but, uh… next time we see each other…"

  “You’re still a jock and I’m still a geek?” she proposed, smiling.

  “Well, yeah, I guess,” he replied, smiling himself at how silly it sounded when she spelled it out. “I mean, you can say hi and stuff, if you want.”

  "Say hi to a football player," Aradia gasped while clutching her heart for dramatic flair. "Heaven forbid! No disrespect, Jayce, but I have a carefully fostered reputation as a loser at this school, and being friends with you would totally ruin it!"

  Jayce chuckled while Aradia winked at him.

  Beyond the initial thanks, Aradia hadn’t expected Jayce to acknowledge her help with his injury. For the rest of their second week at school, he more or less ignored her, confirming her expectations. And yet, maybe it was because his ankle had fully recovered by Friday or because the game had gone so well, but he ended up surprising her.

  After the game, he jogged over, helmet in hand, to where she was sitting in the bleachers. "Hey Aradia!”

  “Oh, hey,” she said, trying to play it cool. It had been a lot easier talking to him when he’d been injured and she’d had all the power, literally.

  Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, “I’m having a party tomorrow. My dad’ll be back out of town. Would you like to come?"

  Stunned by his offer, especially in front of their peers, Aradia was immediately suspicious. "Are you serious?"

  "Well yeah," said Jayce sheepishly.

  Aradia shrugged and said, “Um, yeah, I guess I could go."

  Jayce smiled and turned to leave.

  “Oh!” Aradia exclaimed. He turned back, and Aradia asked, "Can I invite my friends, too?"

  Jayce winced and said, "No, sorry, it’s a private party. Only… certain people are invited." He dialed up the charm and added, “Only my friends.”

  Aradia hated how special that made her feel.

  "It’s alright, Rai. We understand. You should go and have fun,” Rhonda assured her friend.

  Calvin nodded his encouragement and said, "Yeah Aradia, you should go."

  “I’m sure Everett and Felix would say the same thing.”

  Aradia and Rhonda had scheduled a girls’ afternoon at the mall. Rhonda was thrilled to have somebody to go shopping with her. She could usually convince one of the guys to come with her, but she didn’t trust their fashion sense so much.

  When they bumped into Calvin, who was shopping for a new pair of pants, he’d been surprisingly happy to tag along. As it turned out, he didn’t trust his fashion sense so much either.

  Now they were in the food court munching on Chinese food.

  Aradia exhaled deeply and said, "Okay. I'll go."

  Rhonda beamed, and even Calvin smiled.

  "Why are you guys so excited for me to go to a party without you though?" Aradia couldn't help but point out.

  Calvin held up three fingers and began to tick off the reasons. "One, we know the people who hang at those parties. Dislike isn’t a one way street. We don’t like them any more than they like us. Why the hell would we want to get trapped with those jerks surrounding us like a bunch of wild animals? Two, this 'Jayce' guy would never have invited us to one of his parties, so I’m cool not being there. Three, we are your friends so if you have an opportunity to go to a popular guy's party, and you want to, no way would we ever hold you back. If it makes you happy, it makes us happy."

  "Oooh, four!” Rhonda chimed in excitedly. “If you get in good with the popular crowd you can introduce us to them and then we can get to be part of their crowd.”

  Calvin shook his head, exasperated. “I just said we can’t stand that crowd.”

  "But you guys..." Aradia began to argue.

  "Seriously, Aradia, go to the party," Calvin commanded. "Even if I think it sounds like a night in hell, everybody says Jayce's parties are the best."
>
  "Or at least that's what they say on Facebook," said Rhonda. “They don’t actually talk to us directly about them much.”

  Chapter Nine

  The first thing Aradia did for the party was lie to her parents. She never liked doing it, but she felt like she had no choice. She told them she was going over to Rhonda's for the night, and Rhonda was happy to corroborate her story. Liza, who was in the area anyway, picked them up from the mall, made a quick pit stop for Aradia to get her toothbrush and a change of clothes, and dropped the pair off at Rhonda’s house.

  “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Preston,” Rhonda had said. Aradia hadn’t had the guts to comment. She just kept her eyes low and hoped her mom didn’t see how guilty she felt.

  With a heavy conscience Aradia emptied the party clothes out of her backpack onto Rhonda’s bed.

  "I still wish you were coming with me to this thing," Aradia grumbled as she squeezed into a turquoise, shimmery halter-top.

  "Oh c'mon Rai, you'll be alright. I bet you’ll have a great time!" Rhonda said as she handed Aradia a black mini skirt.

  "Oh, hell no!" Aradia cried out. “I am so not wearing a mini skirt to this party."

  "Why not?" Rhonda asked.

  "I don't know anyone there! The last thing I want to do is give people the wrong impression. Besides, have you ever tried wearing one of those things?”

  “Of course I have. It’s my mini skirt I’m offering you,” she replied, smiling.

  “Yeah, well, then you know they’re uncomfortable as hell."

  Aradia pulled on black jean shorts with glittery rhinestones on them.

  "Yeah, I’ll give you that,” Rhonda admitted.

  Aradia worked on a knot in her hair as she replied, "It is sad how some girls think it’s better to look good than to feel good. Just ask the runway models or the women who marry rich men and end up becoming alcoholics."

  She reached for her pink and black heelless slip-on Pumas, but Rhonda headed her off and grabbed them. "No way. You are not wearing those old things!”

  “I love my Pumas!”

  “I’m sure you do, but you’re not wearing them to the party! Here, wear these." She thrust a pair of fancy white flats at her.

  Aradia stared at the shoes skeptically, then at Rhonda.

  Rhonda counter attacked with pleading puppy dog eyes.

  "Okay, okay! I'll wear 'em," Aradia grumbled finally, mostly just to make her stop.

  Aradia sat on the floor and struggled with the shoes. After a few grunts, she succeeded in figuring out the straps. She stood, pleased with herself, but when she looked in the mirror she pulled a face of disgust.

  “What?” Rhonda asked. “You look beautiful. And hot.”

  "No," Aradia argued, “I look like a slut. Worse, I don't look like myself."

  “Wouldn’t it be worse if you looked like a slut and did look like yourself?”

  Aradia glared at her friend.

  "Hey! Sorry! But really, isn't that the point?" Rhonda asked.

  Aradia sighed and said, "Maybe. I think that’s the saddest part of the entire situation."

  The party started at nine. By about quarter past, Rhonda had helped Aradia sneak out of the house. It was not far to Jayce's; nothing in Salem was too far from anything else, really. Aradia still wished the walk was shorter, though. She felt creeped out walking on the sidewalk bordering the woods.

  She usually felt at home out in nature, and given her strength and resilience she’d never much been afraid of the dark. These woods were different somehow. She couldn’t shake the weird feeling that there was someone out there in the dark, watching her. She did not know if it was one of her powers or just a gut feeling.

  According to the directions Rhonda had given her, she was almost at the party. The dim glow over the next hill must have been Jayce’s house.

  She was now sure that someone was following her, hunting her. She could hear him, or her, in the rustling of branches and the crinkling of leaves on the ground. Aradia stopped, whipped around, and stared into the dark woods. Her eyes swiftly adjusted as she looked around apprehensively.

  She could hear a sound that wasn’t trees or leaves. It was low and deep breathing, almost a growl. It’s got to be your imagination, she reassured herself, but that just wasn’t right, and she knew it. She edged closer to the nearest cluster of bushes. She moved slowly, focusing on the breathing, which seemed to be getting louder.

  Suddenly, Aradia heard twigs snapping right beside her. Quickly she turned to meet the sound. A figure rushed her.

  Aradia raised her arm to strike at his head.

  She only barely stopped herself before she struck him clean on the jaw.

  “Whoa!” Jayce said playfully as he caught her arm. “You wouldn’t want to have to use more of that magic cream on me.”

  Aradia was terribly embarrassed, and almost wished he really had been an assailant.

  “Oh, Jayce! Hi!” she said awkwardly.

  "I’m glad you’re here, Aradia. I've been waiting for you! C'mon, I can't wait to introduce you to my friends." Still holding her arm, Jayce slid one of his hands into hers and practically dragged her to the house.

  It was loud and noisy, a typical high school party. It was Aradia’s first, of course, but she assumed it was typical based on what she’d seen on TV and in movies. The party was complete with music, beer, and smoking, mostly cigarettes. Empty 24-packs of Milwaukee’s Best and PBR littered the kitchen and dining room. Considering her father was a criminal lawyer, Aradia decided not to take notice of every activity that was going on at the house for fear she might get prosecuted for guilt by association.

  "You look nice, by the way," Jayce said, sweeping his gaze over Aradia from head to toe for probably the third or fourth time.

  Aradia blushed, which Jayce noticed.

  He draped his arm across her shoulders and said, "Aw, c'mon now, Aradia. You make it seem like you never got paid a compliment before."

  "You know, I’m starting to think hookers made up that phrase,” said Aradia.

  "Uh, what?" asked Jayce, perplexed. He hadn’t been expecting that response.

  "The phrase 'paid a compliment.' I think hookers made it up. I'll tell you why. They invented it as an encouragement to their customers and to make sure nobody ever stiffed them!"

  Aradia realized her joke probably wasn’t as funny as she had meant it to be. In fact, she wasn’t even sure it made sense. Suddenly she felt very uncomfortable and very out of place.

  Jayce, however, threw his head back and laughed. "You know what I like about you, Aradia?"

  "No, but I would like to," she cracked, grabbing the lifeline he was offering.

  "You just say whatever you’re thinking. Most people don’t talk like you do," Jayce replied. “And you can make me laugh.”

  "Well," Aradia said, tossing her hair playfully. "That's kind of the point of being funny."

  "I think it's kind of cool,” he said. Leaning in toward her ear, he added in a whisper, "And kind of sexy."

  Aradia shivered despite the warmth of being huddled under Jayce's arm. Once again she thought that maybe coming here hadn’t been such a good idea.

  Chapter Ten

  An hour later, Aradia crunched her empty Fanta can in frustration and stomped off toward the food table. Half of it was stocked with chips, pretzels, and near-empty pizza boxes. The other half of the table was covered in puke. Somebody had thoughtfully removed whatever food had been stationed on that side.

  Aradia grimaced as she reached into a bowl of Doritos, and prayed that they’d had been spared from the partygoer's drunken rampage. After stuffing a handful into her mouth, she chewed thoughtfully and cast her eyes around the room.

  Jayce’s house was impressive. It was large and well-decorated. Aradia wondered if his dad had handled the décor, or maybe they’d hired a professional decorator. She also wondered whether his mom was in the picture at all. She’d done some sleuthing, but couldn’t find anything too telling. All the
artwork was of elephants or abstract shapes, not family portraits, and she didn’t dare invade the master bedroom to check the closets. That was mostly out of respect for Jayce’s family’s privacy, but also because the bedrooms seemed to be in pretty much constant use.

  Aradia glimpsed the tiki bar by the pool. Ah, well, when in Rome... she thought, and strolled out toward it.

  A group of guys and girls, most of whom she did not recognize, was hanging by the bar. One was pouring several rum and pineapple juice cocktails, mostly rum with little more than a splash of pineapple. Before Aradia had a chance to speak, the boy mixing drinks thrust one into her hands. She noticed the guys were all drinking canned beer, and suddenly the extra-high alcohol content in the fruity mixed drinks made sense to her.

  A loud cry of elation seized her attention. She turned and saw five drunken football players trying to tackle one another into the pool. One of them suddenly broke away from the others, doubled up, and started heaving his stomach into the bushes.

  Aradia stared at the chilly drink in her hand, then at the drunk dorks on parade, then back at the drink.

  "Forget this. If I’m going make a fool of myself, I’ll go on a reality show where at least I get paid."

  "Wise choice," a lightly accented voice chirped behind her.

  Aradia spun around to find Roy smiling at her.

  "Roy, hey!" Aradia cried out happily. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

  Roy shrugged and said, "Trying to have a good time."

  Aradia laughed and asked, "How’s that going for you?"

  Roy cocked his head to the side, grinning sheepishly.

  "Let’s say I’m hoping it will turn around for me. I’m at a party that my brothers dragged me to, where I don't know anybody. Instead of making out with a hot girl like most guys here, I’m standing outside bothering a girl who probably hates me."

  "Say what?" Aradia's eyes flew open in surprise.

  "I know, pathetic, isn't it?" Roy chuckled. Aradia couldn’t tell if this was some play he was making on her, or if he was really that down on himself. Maybe somewhere in between.