by J. L. Weil
His sapphire eyes held mine. “I watched you walk down the boardwalk. I needed to make sure you were safe,” he defended.
I exhaled and warmth spread in my chest. He’d been able to find me within in minutes or even seconds. He cared for me, but I wanted more than friendship.
“You got a spell for ditching school?” I teased.
“Don’t worry I took care of it,” Gavin assured me, which I assumed he did some kind spell to excuse me from school for the day. Regardless, I was grateful.
I looked out over the vast ocean. “I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what I was thinking. You did the right thing by leaving,” I admitted. “It’s for the best that my aunt didn’t find out.” It never even occurred to me that his family might have been wondering where he was all night. I hope that I hadn’t gotten him into any trouble.
“We need to talk. There’s something that I think you need know,” he stated serious, surprising me. I knew that this wasn’t just a friendly chat. What other secrets could he possibly have bigger than wielding magic? My mind spun trying to figure what this was about. The events of today seemed to somehow have triggered this talk. And that frightened me.
“Okay,” I said tentatively, not really sure what was going on or what to expect.
“Since we have the day off… What do you say we go to my house?” he suggested grinning.
“Your parents won’t care?” I asked thinking that his mom was usually home painting.
“Nah but Sophie is going to be pissed when she finds out that I did this without her.”
I gave him a blank look.
Chapter 22
I FOLLOWED HIM IN MY car to his house. Thankfully he kept it to a reasonable speed for my slow chugging mustang. By the time we arrived my stomached had wound itself into a thousand pretzel knots.
“Gavin?” his mom questioned when we walked in the house. She didn’t appear as angry or upset as I pictured. If anything she looked startled and baffled with a brush in hand and paint splattered on her hands and apron. I envisioned this situation if it was reversed and we had walked into my house. My aunt would already be taking my head off about not being at school. The Mason’s defiantly had a different policy about attendance than my family.
“Bri and I had an alteration at school this morning,” He began.
That was an understand statement. I shifted my feet feeling uncomfortable.
“Which led to a little bit of unexplainable magic, I covered my tracks but I thought it would be best if I had that talk with Bri now,” he explained like it was the naturalist thing in the world.
The mention of our fight this morning caused my cheeks to bloom red. I wasn’t proud of what happened and had hoped we’d keep it between us – guess not.
“Hmm I see. I wondered when you would get to this,” she stated, wiping her paint stained hands on the front of her apron.
The fact that she knew what was going on and I was clueless unnerved me to say the least. I felt like I was walking blind into a busy highway.
“I don’t have much choice. She needs to know,” he said.
“She does,” Lily agreed and looked over at me. “Brianna, remember that if you need anyone to talk to I am a great listener.”
I nodded my head confused more than ever and followed Gavin to the backyard of his house. The yard was fenced beautifully with decorative framing and offered privacy between the house and the beach. I could hear the water spraying over the rocky shores, infusing the air with salty surf.
He turned around and faced me. Biting the bottom of his lip, his sapphire eyes searched mine. “When I first met you I recognized something of myself in you. It’s what drew me to you. I spent the first few weeks waiting for you to acknowledge it. And when you didn’t it puzzled me. I thought maybe you were playing a game. I couldn’t figure you out. It was my mom who brought it to my attention that you didn’t know. And I thought how does she not know? Truthfully I still don’t know how it came to be that you weren’t told, but if I had to guess it has something to do with losing both your parents.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and exhaled. “I want to show you something first. Give me your hands,” he instructed.
I eyed him with hesitancy and interest, my heart thumping wildly in my ears. Nothing he said made sense and was probably written on my face. Regardless, if there was anything I knew about Gavin it was that I trusted him. Placing both of my hands on top of his, palms up, I tried to ignore the spark that ignited at contact.
Keeping his eyes locked on mine he said, “Relax.”
Easier said than done, my brain was on overdrive. Taking a deep breath I inhaled the moist air and try to calm my anxiety. The feel of his hands under mine was encouraging.
“I want you to think about the warmth and glow of a light, any kind of light. Envision it inside your head,” he advised in his husky voice, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.
Not questioning what he said, I just did what he asked. I thought about the yellow shining of starlight. How the beams surround the star, lighting up the sky, how each give off their own natural light. I linked their burning glow to that of a flame – intense heat.
“Now keep that image and think inside your head Luminescence. Repeat it.”
My gaze was locked on to his and I felt sort of detached from the rest of my body. An underlining hum buzzed along my arms, traveling through my veins like when you got an IV. I could feel it mixing with the heat of my blood – like an elixir.
Luminescence, luminescence, I repeated, my eyes never wavering from his, my body singing with an intoxicating high, the taste of something pivotal on the tip of my tongue.
Like a gust of flames my hands erupted with a soft glow of dazzling light. A gasp slipped from my mouth as I watched the light prance over my hands, memorized. The flames didn’t burn like a natural fire but tickled. My hands tingled where I could feel the magic fluttering. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before – illuminating, invigorating and freeing.
Looking through the luster I smiled at Gavin watching my reaction. “It’s beautiful,” I said.
“This is one of the most basic spells. To make light,” he explained. “Can you feel the energy feeding the magic?” He asked.
I didn’t know exactly was I looking for. I mean there was that zing I got when we touched, but more prominent now was a buzzing pulse. “Yeah I think I can feel it,” I admitted.
We grinned at each other. What he could do was breathtaking and I admired his gift. “This is amazing,” I told him.
Taking a step back, he moved slowly away. “Don’t move. Just stay where you are,” he advised. He carefully removed his hands from underneath mine as he backed away.
“You can share magic?” I asked confused when he dropped his hands to his side.
He shook his head. “No, I can’t. This –” he indicated with his arms. “Is all you.”
“What – t,” I stammered, eyes wide. The light in my hands flickered.
“It’s your magic,” he said softly.
Shaking my head in denial at his words, “That can’t be. I don’t have magic,” I refused. The glow dropped from my palms and the humming with it.
“You’re wrong,” he stated. “I‘ve been aware of the power in you the second we met. What took me awhile to understand was that you didn’t know. It stumped me that you didn’t recognize what I was.”
I was still shaking my head in denial. Refusing to believe anything he said. “What are you saying?” my voice bordering frantic.
“You know what I’m saying and you know I’m right. Witches can always identify another witch – the energy they wield.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked trying to keep the disbelief and anguish from my voice.
“Because it’s the truth. I thought it would be easier to show you,” he reasoned.
“Easier,” I shrieked.
“I’m trying to help you Bri.”
I believed that he thought he was. It hurt nonetheless. “I’m not a witch,” I argued.
He looked exasperated with my stubborn refusal that he so honestly believed. “You used magic earlier today to get out of the school parking lot. I was shocked that you were able to overpower my spell without really knowing that you could. And that is not all,” he added when he saw that his argument wasn’t breaking through. “Have you ever noticed how the weather can mirror your moods? You can weathercast. I saw it the day we meet, Halloween night when you were scared and today, the storm. Indirectly you’ve been using your magic.”
Everything he said sort of made sense, however I didn’t think it was proof that I was a witch. How much of it could be considered coincidence? He might have started to put doubt in my mind but I wasn’t admitting to nothing.
He saw the uncertainty begin to ease its way into my eyes. “You are not only a witch, but there is something different with your energy, something unique, extra. I’ve been trying to pinpoint it. I just don’t know what it is.”
Freaking great. Was that supposed to make me feel better? Not only was I supposed to be a witch, I was some super mutant witch on steroids.
“I know you think I’m a witch, but I’m not,” I retorted even though I was beginning to discredit everything I thought I was or knew about myself, it began to wiggle its way in. The anger that got of control, the welts I’d left on Rianne’s arm and a gazillion other little things I was beginning to remember that I’d always brushed off. How could I be a witch and not know?
“I’m not the only one,” he stated. “My whole family knows you’re a witch. I told you that we can recognize one another.”
I had forgotten about Lily, Sophie and the rest of his family. My whole world felt like it had just tumbled down on top of me like a nuclear bomb, the damage irreparable.
“Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but I want you to know that I am here for you and I want to help,” he said closing the space between us.
I took a step in retreat and watched as his eyes flickered. The only thing I wanted right then was to get out the hell out of there. I didn’t want to be bombarded with questions, sympathy looks or even admit what they all believed. The Mason’s might be ready to call me a witch, but I was far from ready or eager.
“I’ve got to go,” I said and turned walking towards the gate, away from the one guy I thought got me, away from a family I admired, away from possible the truth. I looked over at him, before I opened the iron door. “And don’t follow me… please,” I pleaded. His eyes fell, causing an ache in my chest. It didn’t stop me from walking out the door and getting into my car.
Chapter 23
ONCE I REACHED THE PROTECTIVE barrier of my car, I laid my head on the steering wheel and gave up trying to sort all the scrambling thoughts. By the time I managed to pull up my driveway I felt like the walking dead. My entire body was numb and detached from my brain. I couldn’t feel anything. Letting myself into the house, I tossed my keys on the entry table and zombie-walked to my room. Shutting the door behind me, I climbed into bed fully clothed and wrapped the covers around me. My eyes affixed on the ceiling above. Each time I closed them I saw myself in different forms all depicted me as a witch.
In a black dress whipping around me in violence, me in another variation of the same dress in red standing at the edge of cliff with my hands thrown in the air. No matter what I did it was always the same and always with an underlying of evil. It got to the point where I didn’t close my eyes anymore. I laid there clutching the moonstone and amethyst necklace. Praying it would chase away the visions.
Sometime later that night my phone vibrated on the nightstand. Ignoring everything around me, I continued to stare at the ceiling, falling in and out of reality. There was no concept of time, no sense of the room around, no desire to move, just the numbness I came to depend on – to shut out the truth. When my aunt came home and opened my door to check on me, she assumed I was sick – in a way I was. The bowl of chicken noodle soup she fixed me before going to bed, still sat on the nightstand beside the bed untouched and cold.
By morning I laid in the same position, in the same trance-like emotionless state. Before my aunt left to open the shop she knocked on my door. “Brianna?” she called cracking the door and peering inside. All the lights were off and the blinds closed, darkness consuming me I was still tucked in bed. My eyes were opened, looking nowhere in particular. She came and sat on the edge of my bed beside me. Pushing the hair back from my face, she eyed me warily. Her floral perfume hit the room and soaked into my soul, breaking it a little. I was afraid she was about to open the floodgates I’d been numbly holding back.
“Hey honey, still not feeling good?” she asked.
“No not really,” I managed for her sake. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation as my throat started closing up with overwhelming emotion.
“Okay, I’ll call the school and check on you later. If you need anything call me at the shop.” She picked up the uneaten soup bowl as she left and paused at the door. “You should really try and eat something,” she advised concern touching her voice.
The tears poured as the garaged door shut. Huge, sob-racking tears tore from deep inside me. The kind that made gave me hiccups in an effort to breathe and cry at once. I curled the blanket around me and hugged myself in a ball. The windowpanes in my room pounded with giant raindrops which made me cry all the more. A justification of my uncontrollable magic I didn’t want. My blanket was soaked with my sobbing and my chest heaved irrepressibly. The crying jag was long overdue. Locking away my feelings was never good for me or apparently the weather either. Now with the knowledge that I could somehow cause storms, I didn’t know what to do.
I knew the moment school started, the vibrating of my phone filled the room. Turning over I drowned out the noise. And so my day went. My body felt achy and weak when I finally tore myself from bed. It never occurred to me before how lost and alone a person could feel. I’d never be so unsure of anything in my life. There were two options here. I either accepted that I was, a witch like Gavin claimed or I went on and resumed my life being blissfully ignorant. Neither sounded like a viable solution.
Downstairs I nibbled on some crackers, trying to settle my empty stomach. I thought about the results of ignoring the possibility I was a witch. I could potential harm others by not being able to control my magic. I could disappoint those who cared for me. Most of all I could lose Gavin. It all boiled down to being scared. Scared to be a witch, scared at failing, scared to lose the guy I was probably in love with, scared to lose my friends and potential my aunt. I wasn’t sure I could risk all that.
I spent the remaining of the day going over and over the same questions with no answers. When night fell I was in bed again before my aunt got home. Much like the previous night she came in to check on me. This time I forced myself to eat a little of the soup she brought and wished that I could open up to her about what was eating me inside.
Laying the necklace on the nightstand after my aunt left, I knew of only one person whom I could talk. Whose opinion wouldn’t matter – he was a figment of my imagination. And true to the properties of the necklace I wore lately, I hadn’t had a single dream of him.
Lukas. I thought his name as I drifted off to sleep. My eyes fluttered as I slowly went under. His name whispered from my lips.
As I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was the lilac frost of my bedroom walls. Hell, I thought it didn’t work. Frustrated I tossed the covers aside and turned on my bedside lamp. Tousling my unwashed hair, I made mental note to shower tomorrow. Just because my life was falling apart didn’t mean my hair had to suffer.
I sat up in the bed and yelped at the figure sitting at my desk chair. His grin was one I knew well.
Lukas.
“Holy crap you scared me to death,” I cried.
“You look like hell,” he replied grinning from ear-to-ear. He ducked the pillow I tossed at his head and laughed.
Rolling my eyes I asked, “What are you doing here?” Here as in my bedroom.
“What do you mean, you brought me here like always,” he answered looking at me like I lost my mind. Maybe I had.
“I’m dreaming?” This was a first. I’ve never dreamed of my own life, nothing this personal and certainly not my bedroom. And again why does my subconscious continue to make me look like I just rolled out of bed. If I was a witch, at least I should be able to spell myself hot.
“Pretty sure,” he commented. “Nice room.” His smile was infectious. “I always wondered what it would look like.”
He got up from his seat, the college t-shirt he wore spanned his chest and strolled around the room, looking at the most intimate part of my life. There was a slight sting in my chest at having another guy in my room, even if it was in a dream. He came across the necklace on the table beside me.
“So this is why I haven’t seen you lately,” he said, trailing a finger over the moonstone and amethyst gems.
“How do you know that?” I wondered aloud.
He shrugged and sat down on the bed next to me. The mattress shifted under his weight and his blue jeans rubbed against my bare leg. “My mom taught me,” he replied.
We never really talked about his parents before and it made me wonder about them. I always figured that my dreams didn’t have a world outside me. I guess I could dream up parents.
“Remember the new guy, the witch I told you about…” I started getting right to why I had really wanted to see him. His emerald eyes held mine waiting for me to go on. “He told me that I’m a witch. Can you believe that?” I asked expecting him to express the same outrage I’d felt.
“And you don’t believe him?”
“Should I?” I retorted baffled.