by Ben Reeder
“You need something to wipe your eyes with?” I asked Wanda as we headed for the doors.
She smiled at me. “It's a look, Chance. I want to show that I'm grieving, so…” she pointed at her eyes, “the mask of tragedy. Besides…it makes it easier when I really do cry.”
I nodded and put an arm around her. It was a thing I'd seen people do when they were trying to offer comfort, and in spite of how awkward I felt, Wanda put her head on my shoulder for a second.
I looked up to see a wall of purple and gold in front of me. I was standing face to face with Brad and the varsity football team, with a reluctant-looking Alexis held against his left side. Wanda and Lucas took a step back, and a testosterone-soaked semi-circle formed around me.
“Hey, freak boy,” Duncan sneered. Up close, he looked as bad as I thought he should have the other night, minus the freaky fast healing. His right hand was purple and swollen again, and his face was bruised worse than I remembered.
“Did you come for some more of what I gave you Tuesday night, Brad?” I asked casually.
He glowered at me for a moment before he pressed on. “I tried being nice to you, and you had to go and jump me. Now it’s your ass, freak. I’m gonna catch you alone in a dark alley and beat the crap out of you!” He poked his left hand at me, but pulled up short before he actually touched me.
I looked down at it, then shifted my eyes back up to his slowly and gave him a grim, I’m-going-to-eat-you smile. I leaned in close: close enough that I could smell his cologne.
“You had me alone in a dark alley,” I said softly enough that only he could hear me clearly, “and all your extra strength and speed wasn’t enough to take me. I know the source of your strength, Brad, and I know how to take it away from you.”
I was bluffing big time, but I knew that if it was just a matter of beating me up, he really would wait to catch me alone and off-guard to jump me. I wasn’t sure he’d stop at a beating. If he thought I could do more than beat him up, maybe he’d steer clear of me for good and all. Besides, if his injuries had reappeared, I was betting that whatever he’d used to fix them was something temporary, like a poorly done potion or charm. Those, I really could undo, and from a distance.
“Mess with me again, and I’ll leave you weak as a kitten.”
His eyes narrowed and he stepped back a little, almost leaving Alexis behind. She went with him, but her eyes were on me for the first few steps as she followed him.
“What did you say to him?” Lucas asked from behind me as I headed inside. I didn’t answer. I was almost late to class already. He caught up to me and leaned against the locker next to mine. “Seriously, Chance, what did you say?”
“Nothing important.”
“Come on, man. Brad Duncan has been the bane of my existence for years, and nothing I do seems to get him off my back. You’re here for three days and you made him run like a little girl just by whispering to him. I gotta know what you said!” He was practically hopping up and down in his eagerness, and I looked at him with a grim smile.
“It wouldn’t work for you like it did for me. It’s all about the leverage, Lucas. I’ve got plenty on him.” I closed my locker door and turned to go to history.
“Oh,” he only paused a beat before he spoke again. “Hey, see you at lunch! We’re over in the corner by the back door. Just look for all the Goths!” I smiled as I hurried to class, inordinately pleased to be invited to the Goth table.
No one talked to me all morning. Mr. Strickland took great pains to avoid looking at me, aside from an initial glare when I walked into class. There were whispers and the occasional snicker behind my back, but no one got in my way between classes, and I got chosen last for softball in PE. I didn't mind that, I hated swinging a bat at a ball, and since I was at the end of the batting lineup, I didn’t have to. I didn't even sweat, so I didn't bother with showering. By the time I got to the Goth table with something that was loosely based on food on my tray, I was feeling pretty lonely.
The double row of pale and tragically pretty faces that looked up at me when I stopped at the end of the table had the same mix of fear and apprehension I’d seen all day. I was just about to give up and go find an empty spot somewhere else when Lucas stood up at the far end of the table and waved at me, calling me over. Dead silence reigned on my left as I walked beside the table to the seat he pulled out for me. When my butt hit the plastic, a buzz of relieved whispers erupted from my left, as the whole table started talking again.
“You know, word is going around about you like wildfire,” Lucas said conspiratorially.
“Yeah, everybody knows you kicked Brad Duncan’s ass,” Wanda chimed in with a vengeful glee. “Chrissy Barlowe’s brother is on the junior varsity team, and he told her that Duncan is out until at least the end of the week. He says Coach Brenner is pissed. He wants your butt in a sling, Chance.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Now I have the head coach after my ass, too.”
“Well, he can’t make too big of a deal out of it, unless he wants to admit that you beat the crap out of his starting quarterback. Brenner’s not one to let something like that get out,” Lucas said.
“Never underestimate how bad an adult can screw up your life,” I replied.
“Spoken like a Jedi Master,” Lucas laughed.
“A what-I master?”
“A Jedi, you know, from Star Wars?” Lucas asked off my blank look. I shook my head.
“Still,” Wanda said through a mouthful of something that looked like meatloaf, “you’re getting a reputation as something of a bad boy around here. Word is, two of the unattached cheerleaders are looking to score with you at least once. For that matter, one of the attached cheerleaders is gunning for you, too.”
“Well, you can spread the word early and beat the Christmas rush. I don’t dig polyester skirts and pom-poms. Besides, I thought they all hated me. Why would they want to date me all of a sudden?”
“They don’t want to date you, dummy, they just want to screw you! You know, get a little danger between their legs.”
“Well, I don’t want to screw a cheerleader, either. Just because a girl can do sideways splits doesn’t mean she’s good in bed. Besides,” I said, thinking back to some of the things Dulka had subjected me to, “I don’t do casual sex.” That pretty much killed that line of conversation, and Lucas leaned closer.
“Dude, don’t look now, but Officer Friendly over there has been eyeballing you since you walked in,” he said quietly. I followed his glance to see Collins standing near the teacher’s table, with Strickland bending his ear.
“Kelly Logan says he’s been asking around about you all day, and Sarah said he was reading your file this morning when she got to second period! Mr. Strickland’s been bugging him all day, trying to tell him what an ‘unsavory type’ you are.” Wanda stopped as she noticed Lucas and I staring at her. “What?”
“Where do you get this stuff? You’re better than the FBI, girl! Where were you when JFK was shot? Or when Jimmy Hoffa disappeared?” Lucas asked.
“I just listen, that’s all.”
“When?” I asked, and barely blocked a chunk of meat product covered in mystery sauce. The bell for fifth period was like a kick to the stomach for me, and I saw Wanda’s face go tight, too. Before yesterday, it meant class with Mr. Chomsky. Today, it meant meeting the person who was his replacement, at least temporarily. That, more than anything, would be what killed him for me. We trudged to the classroom with heavy hearts, only to find a sign on the door saying class was moved to the botany lab downstairs. We exchanged looks, and I could see in Wanda’s eyes that she was at least as grateful as I was not to have to spend an hour in the room Mr. Chomsky had been dismembered in.
We headed downstairs to the botany lab, which was just a big greenhouse that had been built next to the school building. We stepped inside to find a wooded wonderland. Deep greens laid themselves out as a backdrop for an explosion of color in the form of flower petals in every shade und
er the rainbow. On either wall, tiers of plants ran up at an angle to well over the head of the tallest person in the room. A long work bench ran along the bottom of either row, with a similar setup in the middle of the room, though there, the plants were laid flat on the table four or five pots across. There were stools set up at the workbenches, and they were almost all filled. By the time Wanda and I came in, only the two closest to the front were open. Our butts had barely hit the seats when a man in dark robes strode into the room, and headed to the front of the class.
“There will be no inane flailing about with wands in this class, no arcane muttering of silly incantations,” he said with a bad English accent.
I recognized the line from one of the books Dee had given me, and I didn’t catch the laugh in time. A few snickers came from behind me, though I didn’t know if they were at my expense or at the new guy’s performance. I looked, and almost everyone was smiling, and a few people were hiding laughter.
“I’m glad to see that at least one of you reads something other than Cosmopolitan or Auto Weekly,” the new guy said with a smile and a more Midwestern accent. He shrugged his way out of the robe to reveal a dark green polo shirt and tan slacks. Brown hair hung down to his shoulders, and a neat goatee hid his chin. He scanned the room with intense hazel eyes.
“I’m Dr. Corwin, your replacement science teacher. I’ll be teaching Mr. Chomsky’s classes until the end of the semester. Sydney Chomsky was twice the teacher I could ever hope to be. That being said, don’t get the idea that I don’t know what I’m talking about. The “Doctor” in front of my name is not just for decoration. And, don’t make the mistake of thinking that because I’m new, I don’t know that you’re texting to one of your friends in another classroom, young lady. The phone, please?” He gestured to one of Alexis’ friends with one hand and stepped up to her. The girl handed the phone over with ill grace.
“Thank you. You will get this back at the end of the day.”
“Legally, you have to give that back to me before I leave your class,” the girl said in a superior tone.
“According to the school district's attorney, I don’t have to give it back at all,” Dr. Corwin said as he dropped it into his briefcase, “and until you get your degree in jurisprudence, I would hesitate to give out legal advice.” Wanda and I shared a laugh at her expense as he turned back to the class.
He started taking roll, and when he came to my name, he stopped. “Mr. Fortunato, sometime this semester, I would like to have you test for advanced placement classes. Mr. Chomsky had noted a certain aptitude after your first day. You would honor his memory if you made the attempt.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly too tight to speak.
“Now, given the recent events, I thought it would be rather therapeutic to begin with the introduction to botany a little early. A little life to balance the scales a bit.” I had to admit, I liked this guy. He understood dirt therapy.
The bell for sixth period came too early for me. Wanda looked like she was having more fun getting her hands dirty than I would have thought. We put our seedlings on the shelf with our table’s number on it and headed for the door.
I stopped when a gentle touch fell on my shoulder. I knew who it was before I turned around. I found myself staring into a pair of searching, green eyes: eyes that drew me in and tried to see into my soul. There was a jarring moment as my mental barriers kicked in, as if she was trying to get inside my mind with her gaze, but then I blinked, and she was just a girl staring into my eyes.
“Can I talk to you?” Alexis asked. She asked it like she was asking for more than a minute of my time. I just didn’t have a clue what it was. So, I did what any fifteen-year-old warlock would do when the girl who was dating his magickally augmented rival came up and asked if she could bare her soul to him.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll catch up to you after school, Wanda.”
“Suuuure you will,” Wanda drawled over her shoulder. Alexis took me by the arm and pulled me behind a wall of ferns. I could feel her touch tingling on my skin, and the scent of cinnamon hit my nose like a velvet sledgehammer. When we got behind the ferns, she looked around for a second, then turned to me with her head down.
“Did you mean what you said this morning? About what gives Brad his…strength?” She looked up at me through her bangs, her green eyes soft with an expression I couldn’t fight.
I’d give her any answer, just so I could keep seeing that look. “What do you mean?” I managed.
“Can you really take it away?” Her voice was almost timid, hopeful, like the battered girls who used make deals with Dulka to get rid of abusive boyfriends or parents. She kept her arms crossed in front of her. Her scent was driving me crazy with her so close. She tilted her head and intensified the look, and I felt my resolve weaken a little more.
“Yeah, but, why do you want to know?” Instead of answering me, she smiled and ducked her head as she hurried past me. Before I could catch up to her, she was lost in the swirl of students in the hallway, and I was running late to French.
Through sixth and seventh period, only one thing was on my mind. Alexis knew. She knew where Brad’s strength came from, and she thought I could do something about it. She believed that I could do something about it. She was subject to that strength, and that gave me more than a moment’s pause. It seemed that we had more than a little in common, if the way she was acting was any clue. I sure as hell had to find out if I was right about that. By the time the bell rang for the end of seventh period, my head was pounding, and I was ready to go home. After I grabbed my homework books from my locker, I headed to the front doors, and came up on Wanda and Lucas already deep in conversation.
“I’m just saying it’s weird, that’s all,” Lucas was saying as he shook his head. “I mean, it hasn’t even been two days since Mr. Chomsky was killed, and they already have someone in for the rest of the semester. That’s a little too quick, if you ask me.”
“Sarah told me this guy flew in from Houston yesterday, said he went to the same college as Mr. Chomsky or something. He's got like six degrees!” Wanda’s voice dropped into the singsong rhythm I was starting to recognize as her gossip voice. It made her sound about half as smart as she did the rest of the time.
“So, he’s more than a little qualified?” I asked from behind them.
Lucas jumped. “Gods, man,” he exclaimed in a bad British accent, “I hate it when you do that!”
“Sorry,” I lied.
“Yeah, right. Dude, we were just waiting for you. We’re heading over to Dante’s. You want to come and hang out for a while?”
“My mom’s expecting me home. I’d have to call her or something,” I said, feeling like I was seven again. It didn’t bug me as much as I figured it should, but I still felt a little dorky saying it out loud, especially with my bad boy image.
Like magic, Wanda’s cell phone was out and open. I gave her my number, and she handed it to me with the phone already ringing. A minute later, Mom had my promise to be home by seven and get my homework done, and fifteen minutes after that, we were piled into the Falcon with my bike stuffed into the hatchback, on our way to Dante’s.
“So, Chance,” Lucas asked as we turned onto the road, “are you going to go über-geek on us and take the advanced placement te…HOLY SHIT!” The car lurched as Lucas swerved and hit the brakes, throwing me up against the window on the passenger side. Tires squealed along with Wanda, as she splayed her hands across the dash. I caught a glimpse of a shiny black blur as it streaked by my window with a howling sound. More high-pitched howls followed six more black sport bikes as they swerved around us with uncanny precision.
I levered myself up to look out the back window at the bikes and their riders, and saw a pair of green eyes and a red ponytail on one of the passengers as she looked me in the eye. I could almost feel the distance from her gaze growing, then it felt like a connection broke between us. Her eyes closed, and she slowly turned her head and laid her helmet against the ride
r’s back. The movement reminded me of someone and I struggled to recall who it was, as I realized that what had taken a split second felt like an hour. In a flash, my memory filled in the blanks.
In the front seat, Lucas was busy asking Wanda if she was okay and cursing at the motorcycles with every other word. I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, realizing that this was my chance to find out if I was right about my suspicions about Alexis, Brad and their whole clique.
“Dude, we have to follow them!” I exclaimed. Lucas gave me a blank look, and I shook his shoulder quickly. “That was Alexis Cooper and Brad Duncan on the lead bike!”
He gave Wanda a quick look, and she gave him a nod. He reached for the stick shift, and suddenly, I was almost in the front seat. This time, the squealing tires were intentional. The Falcon jumped backward, then whipped around as he hit the brakes and shifted gears on the fly, and we were facing the right way on the other side of the road. I got slammed back into the seat as he stomped on the gas and burned rubber after them.
We saw them make a left turn, and Lucas slammed on the brakes again as the light changed ahead of us, and the intersection filled with cars. By the time the light changed again, they were nowhere in sight, though we could hear the scream of their engines in the distance as they sped away.
Lucas shook his head resignedly as he pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store and turned to face Wanda and me. “Sorry, dude, they had too much of a head start.”
“It's okay,” I reassured him. “That was some awesome driving.”
“Thanks. YouTube driving tutorials.”
“He still can't parallel park,” Wanda offered.
“So, what do you think they’re up to? And why do you think that was Brad and Alexis?” Lucas asked.