Arcane Wisdome

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “I never ran after Nate Evers,” said Lucy, salving her conscience with the conviction that this was almost correct.

  “That’s not what he says. He says he had to hide in poison oak to get rid of you. It’s all over his blog. I’ll bet half the school has seen it by now. He posted it on Saturday." Spencer shook his head. “Why not put a spell on him? Make him run after you, not the other way around. The right series of numbers should do it, shouldn’t it? Then he’ll fall at your feet, won’t he?" He turned back to his computer, his expression blank with anger.

  “I didn’t do that,” said Lucy feeling suddenly very tired. “I didn’t run after him." But, of course, she had. And now she had done a sending. Guilt surged through her, and she turned to leave.

  “Hey, Lucy,” said Tom, pushing his chair away from the display on the screen. “I wanted you to know—I don’t know how you did it the other day, but I’m grateful you did. Whatever it was.”

  “Oh. Thanks." Lucy said from the door.

  Spencer muttered something under his breath, then said, “It’s not like that was real science.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Lucy agreed. “It was magic. Just like the attack on the computer was magic." With that, she went out into the warmth of the afternoon, headed in the general direction of home.

  22

  The events of Ditch Day that Lucy related to Isadora came out slowly, after she had talked about her English final and the two-year-old Belgian Shepherd her brothers had chosen to be their dog, naming him Conan. Lucy spoke carefully, picking her way through the experience as if she were walking barefoot on a glass-strewn floor, watching Isadora to gauge her response and decide how much more to reveal. When she got to the part about hiding in the poison oak, she faltered, staring out the window and trying to gather her thoughts.

  “That was very clever of you,” Isadora said, sounding calm. “You kept your wits about you.”

  Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to speak for several seconds. Then she cleared her throat and made herself go on. “He told his gang that he had to hide in the poison oak to escape me. He said I chased him into it, trying to ... to hug him. And everything." Her voice broke and she swallowed hard to keep from crying.

  “That’s infuriating, isn’t it?" Isadora asked.

  “I want him to stop saying those things—to tell the truth. He came after me. Okay, so he’s smart and he’s cute, and I thought it would be great to go to Ditch Day with him. That doesn’t mean I wanted anything like what he tried to do, and to have him lie about it afterwards— " She found herself wondering if her sending would do anything, and had to admit that she was afraid it wouldn’t. Maybe it would backfire, like her spell had done. She wanted to sink into the comfortable chair and vanish.

  “Would you do that if you could? Make him tell the truth?”

  “Yeah,” Lucy said slowly. “I would. Not just for me but for the other girls he’s tried stuff with." Saying this aloud made her unhappy, for it was a reminder that so far the sending hadn’t worked. She gave a single sob of indignation, then blinked back any hint of tears.

  “There have been other girls?" Isadora’s voice remained steady, but there was change in her posture—she was sitting more forward now, and her usually tranquil expression had turned to a frown. “Are you certain.”

  “Well, one girl told me what happened to her,” said Lucy, not wanting to reveal Niki’s identity to Isadora. “And he claimed the same thing about her, that she threw herself at him. I remember hearing something about it." She could feel her cheeks getting hot. “And I believed it––that she had gone after him. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

  “I see,” said Isadora, her frown fading.

  “But it wasn’t true. I know that now." She hitched her shoulders trying to find a more comfortable position in the chair. “And he’s getting away with it. Again.”

  “Have you said anything to him since Ditch Day?”

  Lucy shook her head. “Not directly. No. I don’t think I could, not yet." She tried not to squirm.“Catherine spoke to me at lunch. She said I was a fool to ... to try to get him interested. That I should know better." She paused. “He wasn’t in class today. He’s ... he’s got poison oak. He went to the doctor." A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I hope he has it all over.”

  “So you’ve had some revenge on him, haven’t you?" Isadora said, mirroring her smile.

  “The poison oak? It’s good, but it’s not enough,” said Lucy. “I want everyone to know that he’s been lying, and not just about me. And the other girls he’s talked about." She slapped the padded arms of the chair. “He can’t get away with this. It isn’t fair.”

  Isadora regarded Lucy in silence for perhaps twenty seconds. “How much have you told your parents about this?”

  Lucy sat up straight. “I haven’t said anything to them. Not anything." She shook her head twice. “Not anything.”

  “Don’t you think it would help if you did?" Isadora asked.

  “No,” she said bluntly.

  “But they’re concerned for your welfare. Don’t you think they ought to know?”

  Lucy turned toward the window again. “And have them think I was making it up? Or even exaggerating? ”

  “Why would they not believe you?" Isadora gave Lucy a direct stare. “This is important to you, Lucy. They should know what’s happened.”

  “No,” said Lucy, reluctantly meeting her gaze. “I can’t.”

  “You can, you know,” said Isadora.

  Lucy shook her head emphatically. “I can’t say anything to my dad—he’d be too upset." She fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve. “I don’t know what Melinda would say. She’d probably laugh, and tell me that I wanted to go with him." Just the possibility made her flinch. “She’d say I was stupid.”

  “I think you’re wrong about her,” said Isadora. “Promise me you’ll think about telling them.”

  “Okay,” said Lucy.

  “And while you’re at it,” said Isadora, “ think about how you plan to counter the rumors that you say are all over the school about you.”

  “I just say it didn’t happen that way. I’ve done that since yesterday when Alison called me. Alison never calls me anymore. She’s friends with Catherine, Nate’s girlfriend,” Lucy said as off-handedly as she could. Suddenly her face brightened. “Ben believes me. He messaged me to tell me so.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?" Isadora was watching Lucy closely.

  “Yeah. I guess it is." Lucy pressed her lips together. “But he’s one of a few.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  Lucy considered her answer carefully. “I think the more I argue, the more people think that Nate’s right, and I did chase after him. They’re used to seeing girls go for him." She bit her lower lip. “They might think this is just more of the same—you know?”

  Isadora nodded. “That very perceptive of you, Lucy,” said Isadora. “But do you think you can keep it up?”

  “This is the last week of school until summer vacation. That’ll help,” she said, hoping she was right.

  “It’s still not going to be easy,” said Isadora.

  “I know. But I can manage it, I think." She paused. “We’re saying think a lot, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, we are,” said Isadora, accompanied by a soft, musical chime indicating their time was up.

  “Is that on purpose?" Lucy wondered aloud. “Saying think so much?”

  Isadora offered no answer, saying only, “If you want one last appointment before the summer break, I can see you a week from today. Then I’ll be away until the middle of August.”

  “I remember,” said Lucy. “You’re going to Turkey and the Greek Islands with your husband." It made her a little uneasy, knowing she’d be on her own again for over two months. “I hope you have a great time,” she said, knowing it was the right thing to do. She got up and stretched, picking up her book bag at the end of it. “Thanks for seeing me today.”


  “Let me know about next Monday,” said Isadora. “I’ll hold the hour for you unless you say you don’t want it.”

  “Okay. I just need to get through most of my finals.”

  “And deal with the rumors in the school,” Isadora added.

  Lucy nodded. “That, too.”

  * * *

  Lucy was half way home when Ben caught up with her. “Hi,” he said as he matched her quick walk.

  “Hi,” Lucy answered, not sure she was glad to see him; she was still mulling over the things Isadora had told her.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee, or a smoothie? I’ll buy, if you like." He was doing his best to sound casual, but not succeeding.

  “I guess,” said Lucy. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “The Gamester,” said Ben promptly; it was a shop with all manner of board games, gaming books, game demo units, comics and action figures Wiis, and DVDs. For the older shoppers, there were boards set up for chess and go. At the rear of the place was a snack-shop and half a dozen tables.

  “Okay,” said Lucy. The shop was a block out of her way, but she was in no hurry to get home. Maybe a little time with Ben would give her a chance to gather her thoughts —there was that word again!—before going home.

  They walked a short way in silence, then Ben spoke up. “Did you know Nate turned in his term project for Environmental Science this afternoon, on his way home from the doctor?”

  She looked directly at him. “No. Why should I?" Lucy told him, her eyes snapping.

  “No reason, except when Mister Laythrope looked through it while he was there and told him it was good work, Nate said that Paul Patterson did it for him, and then he ran out of the classroom. I saw it myself; I’m monitoring for Mister Laythrope, along with Aaron, so the Gothic Geeks will know about it by now, too." Ben glanced at Lucy. “Pretty dazed, isn’t it?”

  Lucy felt a rush of optimism she had thought she would never experience again—maybe the sending had worked after all. She feigned disinterest. “Why would he say something like that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Ben.

  Another half minute went by in silence. “Do you think it’s the truth?”

  “Well, if it isn’t, it’s ozwonked to say it, especially for Nate. He’s supposed to be the best at everything. What’s in it for him to say that it’s all”—he mimed holding a magician’s cape—“smoke and mirrors? Something like this could change everything for him." Ben pointed to the open door of The Gamester. “There are a couple of tables by the window in the back.”

  “Okay,” said Lucy, preoccupied with what Ben had told her. “You know this place better than I do.”

  “Mister Laythrope has sent for Paul, to ask him about it,” Ben said as they made their way to the rear of the shop to the snack bar, which this afternoon was

  almost empty.

  “Paul Patterson,” Lucy mused, thinking of the gangly, mixed-race guy, an uber science wonk who was already taking classes in Environmental Science and Marine Biology at Silicon Valley State University through the Outreach program.

  “How did Nate get Paul to do it, if he did? Did he say?" She wanted to know much more, but didn’t dare to ask.

  “Who knows? I had to leave before he got there," Ben answered, holding out a chair for her. “Coffee or smoothie?”

  “Diet ice tea,” said Lucy, her thoughts on other matters.

  “It’s bottled—do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  He went to the counter and gave his order to the bored young woman behind it, accepting the tall paper cup of coffee and the bottle of iced tea with a “Thanks” and a dollar tip.

  Lucy took the bottle and twisted off the cap. “Thanks for this. I didn’t realize I was thirsty.”

  “Enjoy it." Ben sat down.

  “So tell me more about what Nate said,” Lucy prompted, and took a swig of the iced tea.

  “That’s about it. Paul did the work for him. I could see he didn’t want to say anything, but it was like he had to."

  Lucy’s emotions soared triumphantly even as she tried to conceal her delight. “Odd,” she said as calmly as she could.

  “It is,” Ben agreed. “It’s gonna be hard on Nate. That’s a pretty significant admission, assuming it really is true.”

  Unable to think of any response, Lucy nodded, and stared out the window. It had to be the sending. She began to hope that this would mean Nate would tell the truth about the girls he’d lied about as well as who did his schoolwork, and that would make the whole horrid episode almost worth it.

  “Lucy?" Ben said tentatively.

  She blinked and turned to Ben. “Oh. Sorry.”

  “This could mean he has other things to tell,” Ben said.

  “Yes, it could." Lucy drank more iced tea.

  “I hope it stops all the talk about you,” he ventured. “There’s a lot more to talk about than you.”

  “I’ll try not to hold my breath,” said Lucy.

  “Don’t be pessimistic.” He drank down half of his coffee.

  “Okay—why not?”

  Ben looked directly at her. “You know why not.”

  In that instant, Lucy was certain he had guessed what she had done. “What makes you think I did anything?" She began to feel queasy, and she wondered if it had anything to do with Ben’s guesses.

  “Because I’ve seen what you can do, and this is the kind of thing I’d expect you to do in ... in a situation like yours,” he said simply. “You did do something, didn’t you?”

  “Would you believe me if I denied it?" She felt color in her face, and she looked away from him.

  “Probably not,” he said calmly. “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”

  “But you’re worried.”

  He nodded. “I just hope you don’t let it all go to your head. That could mean trouble.”

  Even though she agreed with him, she asked, “Why? How?”

  For a few seconds he said nothing, then he explained. “It would be real easy to get all Masked Avenger-y, going around righting wrongs, and trying to fix things. And that always leads to trouble.”

  “Your gaming tells you that?" She was shocked to hear how defensive she sounded.

  “That, and listening to my dad." He had the rest of his coffee. “He talks a lot about strategies.”

  Lucy took another long sip from the bottle. “And that makes you think I could get into trouble, doing ... formulas?”

  “Just don’t rule it out, okay?" Ben asked, real concern in his eyes.

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  23

  Spanish final went by without a hitch. Lucy knew she’d done well since she had been attentive with her studies and knew the material, and her term project had got an A minus; Señora Calderon gave only one A per class, so an A minus was something to be proud of. She left the class at the bell, heading across the open quad to her next class— English with Mister Faccio—moving with the flow of other students doing the same thing. She was almost to the door of the Basics Building, where English, Math, and Biology were taught, when she heard her name called sharply. She stopped and turned, wondering what was going on.

  Catherine Brown, supporting herself on aluminum crutches, her lower right leg encased in a cast, stood about five feet behind her. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay."

  “It’s important.”

  “When?" Lucy asked, acutely aware of the attention they were attracting. She did her best to remain cool, but with Catherine coming up to her with wild anger in her face, Lucy became flustered.

  “Now!" Catherine ordered.

  “But class will start in— ” Lucy began, gesturing in the direction she had been moving.

  “You can be late. The final’s tomorrow." She made an impatient gesture. “Over there." Which meant the low wall that separated the quad from the edge of the front lawn.

  “Okay,” said Lucy carefully, and started toward the wall.
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  Catherine came after her, her crutches making loud tapping noises. “Sit down.”

  Lucy sat.

  “Now I want you to tell me what happened on Ditch Day. All of it." She sounded angry, but Lucy noticed there were tears in her eyes.

  Lucy faltered. “Why do you want to know?" she asked, stalling for time.

  “Because Nate said some things last night ... “ Her voice trailed away. “I want to know if he was lying, trying to break up with me, or something,”

  “Oh,” said Lucy, watching students scurrying for their next classes. Soon there would be no one to overhear them.

  “Well? Are you going to tell me?" Catherine demanded.

  “Okay, okay; I will. If you really want to know." Then she took a firmer stance. “After school. Meet me by the entry steps. I’ll tell you the whole thing, if you still want to hear it." She bit her lower lip. “But right now, I have to get to class, and so do you.”

  “Now!" Catherine insisted.

  “It’ll take a while. After school is better.”

  Catherine tossed her head. “You be there.”

  “I will,” Lucy promised before she rushed off, glad to escape what was sure to be a difficult confrontation.

  * * *

  By three-thirty, Lucy had decided how much she was willing to tell Catherine, and as she hurried to the entry steps, she rehearsed in her mind what she was going to say. As she neared the steps, she didn’t see Catherine, and wondered if she had changed her mind about meeting her. She figured she would wait twenty minutes, and if Catherine didn’t show up, she’d walk home, by way of the Foster’s garage. She took up her post, leaning against the large granite slab that had Cosmo Bender Magnet High School, San Mateo County, Established 1994 carved into it. From this vantage point she could see almost everyone leaving the front gate.

  “There you are,” Catherine called out, her face flushed, as she stumped up to Lucy. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “Hello, Catherine,” Lucy said, trying not to sound too suspicious.

  An awkward silence settled between them. Then Catherine said, “What happened at Ditch Day?”