Spark of Knowledge
The Magic Catalyst Chronicles – Book 2
Jacie Douglass
Spark of Knowledge Copyright © 2019, J.C. Douglass. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations in book reviews.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Emily’s Playlist
Sunday, August 30th
Monday, August 31st
Tuesday, September 1st
Wednesday, September 2nd
Friday, September 4th
Saturday, September 5th (Samil’s Birthday)
Friday, September 18th
Friday, September 25th
Saturday, September 26th
Tuesday, October 6th
Saturday, October 10th
Ian
Samil
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Emily’s Playlist
Not Meant For Me – Wayne Static of Static X
Forsaken – David Draiman of Disturbed
System – Chester Bennington of Linkin Park
Change (In the House of Flies) – Def Tones
Redeemer – Marilyn Manson
Dead Cell – Papa Roach
Penetrate – Godhead
Slept So Long – Jay Gordan
Down With The Sickness – Disturbed
Cold – Static X
Headstrong – Earshot
Body Crumbles – Dry Cell
Excess – Tricky
Before I’m Dead – KidneyThieves
Counting Bodies Like Sheep To the Rhythm of the War Drums – A Perfect Circle
One Step Closer – Linkin Park
The Hand That Feeds – Nine Inch Nails
Army of Me [Sucker Punch Remix] – Björk featuring Skunk Anansie
Emily’s Bonus Tracks
Change (In the House of Flies) [Acoustic] – Def Tones
The Hand That Feeds [Dub Mix by Photek] – Nine Inch Nails
Emilienne
Sunday, August 30th
∞
My phone chimes and I roll over and grab it from the night stand. It’s Sebastian, of course; he’s one of the few people that have my number.
Angel Sebastian: Hey Sprite. You still hanging in there?
Me: I’m good, still processing. I’m sure I’ll have a million questions for you tomorrow.
Angel Sebastian: Lemme add you to our group text. You can always text your questions.
Me: Group Chat?
A new text window pops up, and I switch over to it.
Angel Sebastian: Adding Sprite to our group text
425-7430: Sorry Emmy, I should have set everything up for you while we were at the beach.
843-3204: Sounds good Bast
513-9419: Awesome!
Me: Except I have idea who’s number is who’s :P
425-7431: You’ll figure it out eventually ;)
Me: …
Me: Wow … That was so helpful :P Turning off my phone now. Nighters!
513-9419: Nite Trouble
425-7430: Good night Emmy
Angel Sebastian: Night Sprite! Hehehe it’s rhyme time!
425-7431: Gah Really Bast? Night
843-3204: Night Em.
Thinking about it, the smart ass was right. I’m pretty sure I know which numbers belong to Clayton and the Nerd, based on the nicknames they used, so I go ahead and add them to my contacts with the appropriate descriptions. I’m going to assume the smart ass was Jared, since his number is one off from the Nerd’s. Which leaves the unidentified number as the Rock Star’s. I’ll have to ask Sebastian to tell me their names again, so I don’t look like a total airhead.
Monday, August 31st
∞
Why is the alarm going off when it feels like I just closed my eyes? I try to find the snooze button, but it’s too late. I made the mistake of opening my eyes, and the Barbie pink walls have killed any chance I had of falling back to sleep. Ugh, I’m wide awake now. Might as well get ready for school. I still can’t believe I lost an entire day and a half. It doesn’t feel like I had a weekend at all. What was up with that…? Maybe I’ll talk to the psychiatrist about it tomorrow. Or maybe not. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.
I crawl out of bed and head to the bathroom. Thank goodness I’ve finally figured out the controls for the crazy complicated shower. I turn the water on super-hot and let the room steam up before stripping off my PJs. It’s a waste of water, but I’d rather not look at the spiral of scars on my abdomen and back. I hate the permanent reminder of the “incident”.
After a quick shower, I go into the closet and get dressed. I end up with a floor length A-line black jersey dress and my Doc Martens. It’s easy and I’m too tired to worry about what to wear today. I put on just enough eyeliner and mascara to highlight the lavender-blue of my eyes, and go with a red long wear lipstick. Hooray for lipstick that doesn’t have to be reapplied over and over throughout the day. I leave my long bangs down and pull the rest of my long hair up into two pigtails. With my hair up this way, I look like a rainbow streaked version of Harley Quinn from the ‘Suicide Squad’ movie. Minus the face tattoo, that is. Damn, I still need to make that hair appointment to touch up the colors. So much for the ‘To Do’ list on my phone keeping me on track. I add an alarm to go off at 3pm to remind me to make the appointment.
Tucking my phone in my bag, I do a quick inventory.
Phone – check
School books – check
Wallet – check
Keys – check
Ok, should be good to go. I jog downstairs, making a detour to the kitchen to fix some coffee. There’s a note and some cash on the counter.
Emilienne,
I’ve got to go to the mainland this morning and then I’ll be at the Country Club with Mrs. Morgan for the rest of the day. I’ve left you some money for dinner. Text me and let me know when you get home from school.
Mom
Oh Jesus. Just what Mom needs, yet another social group to join.
While the coffee finishes brewing, I grab my faux motorcycle jacket from the hall and slip it on. I fix a super sugary iced coffee in my travel mug, and then pour the rest of the black coffee into a thermos. Tucking the thermos in my bag, I shove the money in my jacket pocket and head out.
My car is in the driveway, thank God. I hadn’t even thought to ask Sebastian about it yesterday. Dumb move Emily. Thank goodness he took care of it. I make good time on the drive to school, pulling into the parking lot and grabbing the closest empty spot. Taking a few deep breaths, I imagine myself surrounded by a golden shield of energy. I feel the familiar sense of peace settle around me. It seemed to take less effort every time I do it. Of course, as long as it continues to hold back the other students’ emotions, it is worth it. Regardless of how long it takes. But faster is better. Grabbing my bag, I head towards the building.
Even with the extra time in my car, I still beat Sebastian to class. I pull out my novel and pick up where I left off on Friday. I found that reading helped me shut down my brain and clear out the random thoughts in my head. A nice trick when my brain wanted to dwell on things I didn’t want to think about. Like what I’d heard about the “incident”. That was stuff I really didn’t want running through my brain on repeat. Luckily, I’d gotten good at pushing the “incident” out of my brain while in the hospital. But talking about it yesterday and sharing the details of what that bastard did; the scars he left me with, the twelve people that didn’t make it out, had brought it back to the surface. Fuck, I need to stop thinking about this.
“Good morning Sprite!” Sebastian’s voice brings me back to the present. Closing my book, I look up and flash him a smile. I freeze in shocked silence at the brilliant yellow light that surrounds him, bright orange and red flames flickering across the surface. It’s beautiful, but… Wow. Maybe I should go see an eye doctor about the colors. They are just getting progressively worse… Mmm… but then again, what will a doctor do for me? They certainly haven’t solved my memory issue yet.
Nope, going to the doctor is a bad idea. I’ve spent enough hours with doctors to last me a lifetime. No, what I’ll do is see what I can find on my own. After all, I figured out how to shield myself. Surely if the colors are related to the emotions I feel leaking from people, one of my books has to have something about them. After what feels like forever, the colors fade and I realize Sebastian is snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“Earth to Sprite,” he says, and I blink repeatedly trying to regain my balance. He looks even more like an angel today that usual, in his body hugging white turtleneck sweater and white cargo pants. I would never wear that much white; I’d be a spill magnet for sure. His sun kissed golden hair is tousled, like he couldn’t be bothered to style it after pulling on the turtleneck. Those emerald green eyes watch me with concern and I reign in my wandering mind.
“Hey,” I manage a weak smile, feeling the blush creeping up my cheeks. “Sorry about that, was lost in thought. I wanted to thank you for getting my car home. It didn’t occur to me to ask you about it on Sunday.”
His full lips curve into a smile, but his eyes are watchful. “Nothing to thank me for Sprite. That’s what friends do. If Clayton and I hadn’t been able to get it home for you, I’d have picked you up for school today. I considered doing it anyways,” he winks, his grin widening. “Just seems silly for both of us to drive to school, when we live right next door.”
I shake my head and laugh, relieved that his serious mood was already lifting. “I’ll think about it,” I reply with a smile. “I kind of like the feeling of freedom, knowing the car is out in the parking lot waiting for me. I could use your help with something else though.”
“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow and settles in his seat across from me.
“Yup,” I blush, hating having to ask for help. “I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out which text came from which of the guys… But…” I start to explain, but his laughter interrupts.
“But you need my help with the names don’t you, Sprite? Those boys really need to step up their game if they want to be as memorable as I am,” he grins and gives me a wink, holding his hand out for my phone.
“Oh no!” I gasp, pulling my bag against my chest. There is no way I want him to see my silly naming convention. Laughing, he drops his hand to the table.
“I just need you to tell me a couple names. I can finish saving them myself.”
“Sure thing, Sprite. Whose names dontcha ya know?” Sebastian grins.
I fish my phone out of my bag, keeping it close to my chest. “Umm… Jared’s brother? I don’t think we’ve ever been officially introduced.”
“It’s Ian,” Sebastian tells me, laughing. “And I wasn’t aware formal introductions were required. I’ll fix that the next time we bump into him. Ian can be hard to pin down.” I flash him a smile, and quickly update the Nerd’s number with Ian.
“And then your friend with the piercings and memorable hair. I know you introduced him at lunch last week, but… well, you know… names…” I shrug helplessly.
“That’s Samil. But lemme spell it for you,” Sebastian says, and I look up at him curiously. “It’s S A M I L. It’s a little different than the regular spelling. The pronunciation isn’t quite the same either, but he doesn’t make a big deal about it.”
“Ahh, gotcha,” I say, fixing the Rock Star’s contact with the correct spelling. “Different is cool. Does it have a special meaning with that spelling?”
Sebastian shakes his head, grinning. “Sorry Sprite, that’s a question for Samil, not me.”
Pouting, I’m about to object when the bell rings. Rolling my eyes, I stick my tongue out at him.
“Fine, I’ll ask him,” I reply, pulling out my sketch pad and pencils. “Eventually.” I add under my breath. I push the conversation to the back of my mind and turn my attention to Ms. Moore and this week’s assignment.
When class ends, I give Sebastian a wave and head to chorus. I can feel the attention of the other students as I make my way through the hall, but I choose to ignore them. I still think it’s weird that no one has approached me, but that’s a mystery for another time. I should ask the guys about it at lunch, assuming I remember.
I make it to chorus just as the warning bell rings, the earliest I’ve been so far. Go me! I grab my usual chair next to Shy Girl. Giving her a quick smile, I pull out the Winter Concert Music and set it on the music stand.
“Happy Monday,” I whisper to her. “Did you have a good weekend?”
“It was alright,” she whispers back, pushing up her glasses. “I spent most of the weekend working.”
“Really? What do you do?” I ask, curious what kind of work was available for teenagers on the island.
“Nothing exciting,” she replies dismissively, hiding behind her auburn curls as she digs in her backpack. “I clean rooms at the Arcas Island Inn on the weekends. It’s not much, but every little bit helps. I want to move off the island and go to college after graduation, but it is expensive.”
“That’s really cool. What are you going to study?” I grin at her, and she turns towards me with a smile. The bell rings, but since the teacher’s nowhere in sight, I motion for her to answer.
“It will depend on if I can get a scholarship or not,” she confides, blushing bright red. “I really want to be a marine biologist. Hopefully, I can return to the island to work with the Arcas Island Conservation Society. But we’ll see.”
Just then, the teacher pops out of his office, wearing a green and yellow plaid shirt under his red blazer. Wow… just wow.
“Good morning class,” he says, taking his place behind the podium.
“Good morning Mr. Morison,” the class greets him in response. Morison, his name is Mr. Morison. I wish he’d put it up on the board so I could remember it. Grabbing my pen and a post-it note, I write down his name and stick it in the back of my Winter Concert music. That should help. Shy Girl gives me a confused look and I wink back at her.
“Now that the placement tests have been completed, everyone grab your things and come to the front of the room.” There’s a chorus of groans from the room. Shoving my music back in my bag, I wait for Shy Girl before moving to the empty area at the front of the room.
“What’s with the sticky note?” She whispers, as the rest of the class slowly joins us.
“I’m really bad with names,” I quietly reply. “I keep forgetting the teacher’s name, so I made myself a reminder.” She surprises me with a giggle, and I grin back at her.
“Does that mean you forgot my name too?” She asks, still giggling.
Giving her a rueful smile, I nod. “I’m afraid so, I probably should have taken notes on people’s names that first day, but I was so distracted by all the new… Well, it didn’t occur to me till it was too late.” Most of the class has made it up front now, and I t
ry to hide a shiver as I feel the distinctive calm of Rock Star’s energy brush against my back. I’m tempted to turn and talk to him, but without Sebastian here to serve as a buffer, his intensity is intimidating. Thankfully Shy Girl’s laughter draws my attention back to her.
“Well my name is Amy,” she snickers. “Maybe you should add it to your note about Mr. Morison.”
I laugh and nod. “You’re probably right. Remind me once we’re seated,” I tell her. “I’ll probably forget it again if this takes too long.”
“Alright class,” Mr. Morison says, clapping his hands, until the chattering dies out. Grabbing a piece of paper off the podium, he looks around the room. “Now that I have your attention, I’ll be assigning your seats for the remainder of the year. These will be your seats for both class and the concerts, so pay attention and make sure you sit in the correct seat.”
“Just like last year, we’ll start at the back and work our way forward. When I call your name, head up the left side and move all the way down the row. You’ll sit in the first empty seat you reach. No changing seats, you need to stay in the order I call your name. Any questions?” He pauses for a moment, before continuing.
“Perfect, let’s get started. Back row. Mark, Jennifer, David, Julia, Andi, Matthew and Trina.”
Wow, this is going to take the entire class time at this rate. It is clear people are purposely dragging their feet to waste as much time as possible. Once everyone in the back row finally gets seated, Mr. Morison clears his throat and taps on the podium.
“Next, we’ve got our third row. Grace, Luis, Jimmy, Mary, Michael, and Christopher.”
After what feels like forever, the third row people get themselves situated. Mr. Morison nods approvingly, before looking back at his list.
“Second row. Bryce, Alexis, Josh, Samil, Isabella, Tyler, and Haley,” the second row student shuffle into place, and I can’t help but notice the Rock Star amongst them. His exotic features can’t help but catch the eye, especially with his pierced eyebrow and nose. He’s back to his all black look today, a black Henley under his leather jacket, paired with black jeans. His bright magenta hair hangs forward, in a messy casual style. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d never guess he had the sides of his head shaved and tattooed. He catches me staring and winks. Silver light with twists of purples flares to life around him. Flustered, I look away.
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