by Sarah Adams
'A Simple Notice Me Spell...................Page 107'
“That sounds more like it,” Amber grinned and flipped through the pages until she reached page one hundred seven. She skimmed through the warning at the top of the page that mentioned something about being careful about one thing or another. Amber was too excited to bother with warnings right now. She had already read the warnings at the front of the book. What she wanted to read now was the spell.
“For this spell you will need two candles. One of your favorite color and one in the favorite color of the person you wish to notice you. The candles need not be large nor decorative. The colors must be accurate. You will also need matches and something to write with.”
“That should be easy enough,” Amber chuckled to herself, “You can buy candles almost anywhere.”
Her cellphone vibrated in her back pocket causing Amber to jump and knock several books from the shelf. She quickly shoved them back onto the shelf, praying the librarian hadn't seen the mishap. They always hated when patrons re-shelved books themselves. Amber pulled her cellphone from her pocket and swore under her breath. How was it already seven o'clock?
“Hey, Dad!” she said cheerfully.
“You ready, kiddo?” he asked, “I've been waiting out here for fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute,” Amber said, pushing herself to her feet with the book tucked carefully under her arm.
“You're not checking out more library books are you?” he asked, “I told you no more until you finish the ones you've already checked out!”
“No, Dad, I just lost track of time while I was doing my homework and I need to pee before I leave,” Amber lied.
“Okay, kiddo,” he laughed and ended the call.
The librarian gave her a knowing smile as she scanned Amber's library card, adding the spell book to her account.
“It's due on the fourth, enjoy!” the librarian said.
“That's only four days!” Amber objected.
“The check-out period for more popular books is always shorter, Amber, you know that,” she said and walked away.
Amber carefully tucked the book inside of her backpack and headed outside. She didn't much care for this new librarian. She was unlike any other librarian Amber had ever met. The lady was helpful. She just seemed to know too much about everything and that made Amber nervous. If she stayed on at the library full time, Amber's overdue book fines would bankrupt her father.
Chapter Two
Amber wasn't sure if morning came early or she had woken up late. It was hard to tell with all the commotion happening on the other side of her bedroom door. Her dad banged on her bedroom door startling her from a dream in which she had finally managed to obtain Joshua Nelson's attention. They were on their first date and Amber had worn her favorite sundress, a darker green one that reminded her of the one her mother had worn at the ice cream shop.
Joshua had just told a funny joke (that upon waking Amber couldn't remember). She was reaching out to touch his dimples, after years of waiting, when she startled awake. The dream faded quickly leaving behind an empty feeling in Amber's stomach.
“Up, kiddo! You've missed the bus!” her dad called through the door, “You have exactly five minutes to get your lazy butt into the truck or you're walking to school.”
“I'll call Tamara and have her mom pick me up,” Amber called back, as she tried and failed at suppressing a yawn.
“That's a no-go, kiddo,” her dad called back, “School started fifteen minutes ago!”
“Why didn't you wake me up sooner?” Amber called back, sitting up trying to see the red digital numbers on the clock across the room. It was useless the world wouldn't come into full focus until her contacts were in place.
“Because I thought you already left!” he called back, “I didn't know you were still here until the school called to ask about you.”
“Ugh!!” Amber sighed, “I've got to get into the shower and stuff.”
“Hurry, kiddo!” her dad called, “I have to be at the office in less than an hour! I have a meeting with a V.I.C.!”
“V.I.C.?” Amber asked.
She opened the closet door feeling around, grabbing the first pair of jeans her hands touched. Next she looked at the blur of colors that were her t-shirts and chose a green one that said 'Go green for ice cream!”
“Very important client, duh!” he laughed through the door.
“Quit trying to be cool, Dad,” she said as she exited her bedroom and headed for the bathroom, “You're failing at it epically.”
“Am not,” he laughed, “You're just not awesome enough to understand my brand of cool.”
“Ugh,” Amber rolled her eyes and shut the bathroom door.
Amber washed and dressed quickly, leaving ample time to insert her contacts, do her makeup, and try to tame her hair. She moved slowly, despite her dad yelling for her to hurry. Her math homework sat unfinished in her backpack, meaning Mr. O'Bannon was going to throw her in detention for sure. This was the second time this week she hadn't finished her assignment.
“Maybe I can play sick,” she thought to herself,
There was no way her dad was going to let her stay home today. He didn't like leaving her home alone and it didn't sound like his meeting could be canceled. If she told him she was sick, he might cancel it. She'd spend the whole day feeling like a selfish twit.
“Hurry up, Amber, please!” he called again, “I have less than twenty minutes to drop you off and get to work!”
“I'm almost ready,” Amber said, opening the bathroom door, “I just have to put my shoes on and grab my stuff. I don't have time to pack my lunch, though. Can you give me some money so I can get something from the caf?”
“Sure, just hurry up, sweetheart,” her dad said, straightening his tie.
Amber missed her first period history class, which was her favorite class. She didn't mind missing out on it today, because it meant that she could polish her report to perfection over the weekend.
She had just slid into her seat when the bell rang and Mr. O'Bannon gave the order to pass up their homework assignments. Amber turned in her seat and waited for the students behind her to pass their assignments up and handed them to Mr. O'Bannon.
“Why does this stack of assignments only contain six worksheets instead of seven, Miss Atkins?” he asked.
“Because mine isn't there,” Amber said, trying not to roll her eyes.
Why did he have to make a spectacle over homework?
“And why isn't yours here, Miss Atkins?” Mr. O'Bannon asked, arching a dark greasy brow.
“I didn't do it,” Amber admitted.
Amber ignored the guy across the room who winked at her and looked up at Mr. O'Bannon, awaiting her sentence.
“See me after class, Miss. Atkins,” he said.
“Okay,” she nodded.
“Not okay, Miss Atkins. It's yes, sir!” he said.
“Okay, sir,” Amber said, not wanting to look spineless in front of the whole class.
Mr. O'Bannon didn't sentence her to detention. Instead, he threatened to schedule a parent-teacher conference if she didn't catch up on the homework. He had given her until Monday to have it completed and on his desk. It would make her schedule tight and she'd definitely lose sleep. It would be worth it to keep her dad from worrying. Whenever Amber had a problem at school her dad immediately blamed himself.
The extra homework put a damper on Amber's usual Friday sense of freedom. Extra math homework, drama vocabulary words, a history report to polish up, shopping with Tamara, and trying out the spell. The book was due on Monday and Amber was willing to bet money that the librarian wouldn't allow her to renew it. Amber had decided against writing the spell down. Having the book in the house for the weekend was risky enough. She didn't even want to think what her dad would have to say if he found the book in her possession.
The spell book was still safely inside her backpack, because Amber didn't trust her dad not t
o come home from work and search her room while she was gone. He had taken to doing random room checks, which annoyed her, because what had she ever done to give him a reason to distrust her? She planned to do the spell this evening when her dad was playing his normal round of golf with his cronies from the office.
“What's with you today?” Tamara asked her while they waited for their parents to arrive.
“I forgot my math homework again,” Amber frowned.
“Forgot it where?” she asked.
“Forgot it, as in, I didn't do it,” Amber sighed.
“O'Bannon stick you in the stockades?” Tamara asked, arching a penciled on brow.
“Nah, he's giving me the weekend to finish it up,” Amber admitted, “I'm just thinking about stuff.”
“What stuff?” Tamara asked, “You're not trying to back out of our Saturday shopping trip are you, girl?”
“What?” Amber blinked and shook her head, “No! Never! Nothing is going to keep me from going shopping with you tomorrow! I need the retail therapy.”
“Then what's eatin' at you?” Tamara asked.
“I don't know Joshua Nelson's favorite color,” Amber admitted, telling a half-lie-half-truth.
“I don't know why you care so much. If you want to know so badly just take your skinny butt over there and ask him!” Tamara said, trying to give Amber a shove in the direction of the basketball team and their girlfriends.
“No!” Amber said and pushed back against Tamara's hands, “I can't. I just can't!”
“How are you supposed to ever date the guy, if you won't even talk to him?” Tamara rolled her brown eyes.
“Will you ask him for me, please, Tamara? Please?” Amber begged.
“Quit begging! You're not a dog!” Tamara rolled her eyes and stalked off into the group of basketball players.
She returned a few minutes later shaking her head.
“So did you ask him?” Amber asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Yes, and he's just as dense as I thought,” Tamara sighed.
“What did he say?” Amber asked, taking a hold of Tamara by her shoulders, “I have to know what he said.”
“Calm down, girl, he's not worth going all 'fan-girl' over,” Tamara rolled her eyes, “Next thing I know you're going to be one of those girls who fall in love with fictional characters from all those books your read.”
Amber had already fallen in love with more than one book character, though she wasn't about to tell Tamara about it. Her BFF would never let her live it down. Tamara already gave her enough grief over her school-career of a crush on Joshua Nelson.
“No! What did he say though? What's his favorite color?” Amber demanded.
“Well, he said it was black and green!” Tamara rolled her eyes.
“Green is my favorite color! What's wrong with black and green?” Amber asked.
“Nothing, it was just a pretty lame answer, as it's our school colors, Amber,” Tamara sighed.
“So loyal to his basketball, team!” Amber sighed.
“I have bad news too,” Tamara frowned, “He plans on asking Sandra to the dance.”
“I don't think he will,” Amber shook her head.
“You are delusional, girl. I love ya anyway,” Tamara sighed, “There's my mom, see you tomorrow!”
“See you tomorrow.” Amber sighed and leaned back against a stone pillar.
“Make sure you're up on time, because you know how much Mom hates to be kept waiting and I'm sure there's a Saturday sale going on somewhere tomorrow,” Tamara laughed, sliding into the car.
“I'll be ready on time,” Amber laughed.
Tamara was her BFF, but the girl was crazy. Since when did having school spirit make you dense? Amber thought Joshua's dedication to the basketball team was sexy. Who wanted a guy that couldn't commit?
Amber smiled as her dad pulled up and she slid into the truck.
“Hey, Dad, can you drop me off at the library? I can walk home when I'm done, because I know you're going to play golf this evening,” Amber said without giving her father a chance to say hello.
“Slow down, kiddo,” her father laughed, “Yes, I'll take you back to the library. Do you have any books to return?”
“Yeah, I have three in my bag,” Amber said.
“Good, so how's things going with Joshua?” he asked, drawing out Joshua's name, making the word high-pitched and mocking.
“Not so well,” Amber admitted, “Tamara said, that she heard, that Joshua is going to ask Sandra Holisn to the dance.”
“Which one is Sandra?” he asked.
“You haven't heard about her. She's an average cheerleader: Perky, peppy, and annoying. Sandra wasn't a threat. Well, at least not until this afternoon,” Amber sighed.
“Aren't there any other guys at your school? I mean I think I've seen other guys. I could be wrong, though,” he shrugged.
“Of course, there's other guys at school, Dad,” Amber sighed, “they're just not Joshua Nelson.”
“What's so great about this Nelson kid? I know he's a decent basketball player. What else makes him so great?” he asked.
“Dad, if you have to ask, then you'll never know,” Amber sighed as she got out of the truck and walked into the library.
Amber turned back towards the truck remembering she hadn't asked about her dad's meeting.
“How did the meeting with the VIC go?” she asked.
“See my slingo is catching on!” he laughed.
“It's slang, not slingo, Dad,” Amber rolled her eyes with a smile.
“It went well, we're meeting again on Monday. Though I'm pretty sure I've nailed this contract for the next two years,” he grinned.
“That's freakin' awesome!” Amber grinned.
“I'll be doing new logos and maybe even the voice-over for their commercial for prime time television,” he laughed.
“They have voice actors for that, Dad, stick to the design and advertising,” Amber giggled, “I'll see you at home.”
“Be careful walking home, kiddo,” he called as she walked away.
“I will, Dad, promise,” she called back over her shoulder.
She didn't take her usual scenic route, which allowed her to look through her favorite book shelves. Amber headed straight for the study area to work on her math homework. Something kept drawing her attention away from her work and she it unnerved her, mostly because she couldn't figure out what it was. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and Amber gripped her pencil tightly, snapping it into two pieces and splinters.
“Have you brought the book back yet?” the librarian asked.
“No!” Amber shouted, because the older woman had startled her.
“No need to shout in the library, dear,” the older woman chuckled.
“Then don't startle me when I'm trying to do my math homework, okay?” Amber said and slammed the book shut before tucking it under her arm and storming away.
“Sorry, dear,” the librarian called after her.
Amber had only managed to finish half her math work and she knew that she would never be able to concentrate with the creepy librarian standing over her like she was going to shove books down her pants and make a mad dash for the door.
On the way home Amber stopped by the discount and bought two candles. The woman at the register looked at her oddly when she scanned the bar code of the black one.
“It's for a friend,” Amber said, telling another half-lie-half-truth, “It's his favorite color.”
“Goth kid?” the cashier asked.
“Not really, black and green are the colors of his basketball jersey,” Amber said.
“Oh,” the cashier said, “Eight sixty two is your total.”
Amber cringed at the price of just two candles, because it cut into her clothes money. She handed over the money quickly before she could lose her nerve.
“Here's your receipt, Have a great evening,” the cashier said.
“You too,” Amber said, hurrying
out of the store.
Amber's heart raced as she walked the familiar route home. She feared that she would arrive home to find her father's truck parked in the driveway and she wouldn't be able to cast the spell.
“What will I do then?” she asked herself, “Maybe I could do it in the bathroom and tell him I'm soaking in the tub? Would he smell the candles burning? Is it okay to cast spells in the bathroom? Should I do it outside? No, I can't do it outside! What would the neighbors think? Mrs. Harrison would see the tiny flames and call the fire department.”
Amber let out a long sigh of relief when she found the driveway empty. She ran up the steps and quickly unlocked the door. Fifteen minutes later she sat on her bedroom floor with the candles, matches she snatched from her dad's collection, and a pen. She took a deep breath and took the book out of her bag.
She opened the book to page one hundred seven.
“The candle that represents you must be closer to you than the one that represents the object of your desire.” Amber read, “The candles should be approximately six inches apart. Before setting your candles up, inscribe your first name into the candle of your color choice and the name of the other party onto the candle that represents their favorite color. The writing utensil comes in handy for this part.”
Amber uncapped her ballpoint pen and carved her name into the green candle. She carved it deep and deliberately before turning her attention to the black candle and carving the letters slower and more deeply. She didn't want to know what would happen if she messed up a letter. All the warnings in the book…
J O S H U A
Amber's hand was cramping when she completed the task.
“Set up your candle and then place the other six inches away from it. Carefully light the candle inscribed with your name FIRST. Next light the other candle. For best results light both candles with the same match.”
Amber carefully struck the match against the rough patch on the pack and nearly dropped it when the flame danced too close to her fingers. She quickly lit the green candle and then the black one and blew out the match.