Frivolous Magic

by Kimbra Swain

  “Why is your hair white?” he asked.

  “Rude,” I replied.

  “It’s beautiful,” he said.

  My jaw dropped because while most people said my hair color was unique, no one had ever dared to call it beautiful.

  “It’s just white. I was born this way,” I said.

  “I love it. It’s so you. I always know when you are around. I can see it across campus like a shining beacon,” he said. “Wow! That sounded lame.”

  I giggled. “Yes, it did.”

  “I just know it’s you, and that makes me happy.”

  “Not as lame.”

  “Thanks. I think that’s why I sat down with you that first day in the student center at the coffee counter,” he said.

  “Because my hair was white?”

  “Because you were different. I was sick already of the rich frat boys and the snobby sorority girls. I decided the best way to get to know someone new was just to introduce myself to a different crowd,” he said.

  “I was it,” I said.

  “I think we all ended up pretty good friends despite our differences,” he said, then yawned.

  “You should get some sleep,” I said.

  “You, too.”

  “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep tonight, plus I still have a Geology test tomorrow.”

  “Cheat off Dakota’s paper. I’m sure he will let you.”

  “You spoke to him earlier?”

  “Yeah, he was worried about you. I told him you were fine and that I was looking after you.”

  “I can look after myself.”

  “Phew. That takes all the responsibility off me.”

  I picked up my shoe and threw it at him. He dodged and it hit the wall behind him with a loud thud.

  “You are a pig.”

  “Oink.” Brax always made me laugh with his silliness. For a stuck-up rich kid, he knew how to turn on the charm, but he also knew how to laugh. I’d never once considered him to be anything other than a friend, but I could see his value and what he would bring to a relationship. “Are you still in love with him?”

  “What? Who?” I asked, hoping to the heavens he wasn’t talking about Kota.

  “Fane.” Shit.

  “No.”

  “But you were together without telling all of us?”

  I sighed. No sense in hiding it now. I had one big secret to keep, and I didn’t want any others gnawing away at me.

  “Yes, for a little bit, but it didn’t work out.”

  “Please tell me you dumped him.”

  “No,” I replied quietly.

  “What the hell is wrong with him?”

  “I’m not sure, but he had other things going with his family that took up his time. It was kinda sudden,” I explained. I’d never talked to anyone about it, but felt some comradery with the recently single handsome guy sitting across from me.

  “He’s an idiot.”

  I lowered my face to the ground and made circles with my finger on the hardwood floor. One of the planks had a knot right in front of me. I swirled my finger around it several times before a shadow crept over it. Braxton had moved up to the edge of my door again, but this time he was on his knees.

  “I mean it, Lacey. Any guy that was lucky enough to hold your heart would be a fool to let it go,” he said. The intensity of his eyes struck me, and I looked away from him.

  “I’m nothing special.”

  “Don’t make me come in there. I meant what I said. Get some sleep,” he said, rising to his feet. I looked up at him as he smiled down at me. I saw the hurt and pain in his eyes from what his family had done to him, but I saw that touch of humor, too. And maybe something else I’d only ever seen once. I didn’t want to see it again, but there it was.

  “Goodnight,” I whispered.

  Eventually, I convinced myself that I could study tomorrow, and I climbed back in bed. Exhaustion struck me like a freight train. Unable to fight my eyelids, I gave myself up to sleep.

  I strolled into Economics with just a moment to spare. Looking across the room, I noticed that Dakota had taken a new seat closer to the front than our normal seat near the door. Easing into the desk closest to me, I waited to see if he would turn and look at me, but he didn’t. My heart sunk. No matter what happened between us, I still liked him. He had called it off leaving my emotions tethered to him. He still felt something, too. I had to have some self-respect like when he waltzed into the hospital thinking he could just kiss me.

  It had taken me forever to get up and get moving this morning. My whole body felt sluggish and sore. Braxton was still snoozing on the couch when I slipped out to catch the bus to the college. My plans for studying would have to wait until after Art History. I’d have an hour or so to grab a bite to eat and study.

  I’d decided to avoid our normal morning coffee meet-up. With Brax and Shawnna broken up, with Dakota avoiding me, and who knew what Marley did all night, I decided that I didn’t need the drama today. It was time to buckle down and get ready for mid-terms.

  Econ, Psych, and Geology would be multiple-choice tests, which I hated because I’d convince myself that my first instinct was wrong, when actually it was right. English would be an essay, and Art History would be a project. I hadn’t worked on my symbol project, but considering I had another couple of days, I figured I’d squeeze it in somewhere. Even more reason for me to skip the group’s coffee time.

  I zoned out during Econ thinking about the events of the weekend. Ajax stayed on my mind. His boss didn’t like him interfering with me, but he seemed to be open to answering some questions. Then it hit me again. I killed someone. Granted, he had been trying to take me. But I caused his death in protecting myself. An instinct inside of me knew it would be him or me. I survived, but I felt shocked that I could do such a thing.

  “Miss Ashcraft.”

  “Huh?” I jolted out of my musings.

  “Can you answer the question?” Professor Patel asked.

  “Can you repeat the question?” I asked.

  “Perhaps you should stop daydreaming and pay attention,” he replied smartly. “In the economic system I’ve drawn on the board, the use of scarce resources is determined by?”

  I quickly looked over the graphs and recognized the system. “In a market-based system, the use of scarce resources is determined by consumer demand,” I said.

  He furrowed his brow and replied, “Correct. The consumer determines most of a market-based system including pricing and demand.”

  His voice droned on, and I forced myself to pay attention. I hated economics. In fact, any class that made me “math” I generally disliked. I wasn’t an artist either. I liked to read, but the analyzing required in English was boring and washed any enjoyment out of reading the text. The truth was, I didn’t like any of my classes. I had no idea what I was going to do with myself. It was my last semester at Stonehill. I’d have to go to the University next year if I intended on finishing my degree. So far, nothing appealed to me.

  My childhood dreams of professions included ninja, dragon rider, and pirate. Thanks to my parents’ love of books, I grew up with a vivid imagination.

  When class dismissed, I tucked my notebook into my backpack and caught Dakota looking at me. He made a move to approach me, so I darted out the door. I practically ran to the nearest stairwell, but with all the classes letting out, I couldn’t put the distance between us that I wanted. I decided that instead of going out the front door, I’d keep going down a level and exit through the back of the building on the basement level.

  Once I got outside, I took a deep breath to allow my heart to stop pounding. I waited for a moment to see if he had followed me, but I resigned that I must be paranoid. I snuck around the side of the building then quickly across the street to the art building.

  I dipped inside and found a bench outside of my classroom to sit down and wait for my next class. When I pulled out my phone, I had two messages.

  BRAXTON: Why aren’t you at th
e student union for coffee?

  I flipped to the second message.

  KOTA: If you don’t want to talk to me, Lacey, just say it. You don’t have to run off.

  I decided to respond. I’d end this now.

  ME: I’m not the one that moved across the room like a child who doesn’t want to face their problems. I’m convinced that you are the biggest chicken on this campus. Whatever your issue was, we could have worked on it together. Instead, you ran. You moved. Not me. Don’t ever blame this on me. And to let you know, no, I don’t care to speak to you. Don’t you dare kiss me again. Ever.

  My breath hitched as I stared at my words. I couldn’t send it.

  “There you are,” Braxton said from down the hallway. He had two cups of coffee. He sat down next to me offering one to me.

  I turned my screen off instead of sending the text. It would be better off if I just let him stew in it. I wouldn’t lower myself to respond to him.

  “Thank you, Brax.”

  “Well, it occurred to me that you might not want to meet up with everyone after what happened. Don’t worry, Shawnna won’t be back, but Marley was worried about you. I told her I’d find you. You should message her,” he said.

  “I will,” I said looking down at my coffee.

  “Dakota?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Tell him to fuck off,” Braxton said. I laughed and thought about the unsent message on my phone. “Unless you don’t want to do that, and I completely understand.”

  “I don’t know what I want, Brax. I don’t even know what I’m going to do next year. If, and that’s a big if, I pass my classes…”

  “You will pass your classes.”

  “Well, if I do, then what? What’s next?”

  “Whatever you want,” he replied. “Don’t stress it. You will figure it out when you are ready. Look at me. I have no clue what I’m going to do. I suppose I’m not going into the publishing business anymore.” He nudged my knee with his.

  I smiled. “I guess not.”

  “We have time to figure it out,” he said.

  I leaned over on him, and he wrapped his arm around my back. He pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. Something sparked my attention over his shoulder, but when I looked nothing was there.

  “I better get to class,” I said.

  “I’ll be here when you get out,” he replied.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said.

  “I don’t have class. I’m gonna sit here and study for my statistics test this afternoon,” he said. “I’d rather do it here where it is quiet than over at the student union.”

  “Okay,” I said gathering my backpack. Just as I stepped into Mrs. Fleming’s class, I looked back at Brax. He smiled and nodded. I returned the smile, then slipped into class.

  When I sat down in my seat, I looked up to the board where Mrs. Fleming was putting the final touches on an arcane circle. One that looked exactly like mine.

  Mrs. Fleming talked about symbols and how they were combined to create language and art. She flashed slides of many different combinations of symbols, but of all things for her to draw on the board. She drew an arcane circle. My circle.

  “Does anyone have any questions?” she asked.

  I decided to find out about this circle. Raising my hand, I gathered my courage to ask. She nodded at me.

  “Mrs. Fleming, the circle you drew on the board, it has the same symbols you posted in the last class. Where did you find the reference for that circle?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure exactly. You can search the library for arcane circles. You will find many of them in different shapes and forms. Are you interested in this circle?” she asked.

  “I just think it looks cool,” I said playing it off. “Could you find something like that on the internet?”

  “Possibly, but you have to be careful with internet searches. They do not separate the truth from fiction,” she explained. “Your midterm project is due on Monday. I will be out of town on Friday so we won’t have class. See you next week.”

  A cheerful murmur flowed through the class as people started to exit.

  “Miss Ashcraft,” Mrs. Fleming called out to me.

  Shit. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “I’ll look at my records and if I find the reference for the circle, I’ll email you,” she said.

  “Um, thanks. No need. I just thought it might make a cool project,” I said.

  “It would, but you need to find one to make your own. Remember this is art history. Don’t merely copy what someone else has done, be your own history,” she said.

  “Right,” I said, shying away from her inspirational speech. I slipped out the door before she started again. Without thinking, I headed for the steps.

  “You gonna leave me here?” Braxton asked.

  “Brax! I’m so sorry.”

  “Where are we headed now?” he asked.

  “We?”

  “Yeah, we,” he replied.

  “I’m going to the library to do some research for my art project for midterm. Then I have geology later,” I said.

  “How about I take you to lunch, then we go to the library?” he suggested.

  “Brax, you don’t have to do that,” I said, knowing he’d been cut off from his father’s money.

  “Nonsense. Let’s go,” he said, holding his hand out to me. My stomach growled giving me away. “What’s that I hear? Oh, it’s Lacey’s stomach. It says it’s been neglected.”

  I giggled. “Alright,” I said, taking his hand.

  We walked out into the courtyard behind the building and down the sidewalk. He never let go of my hand.

  “My car is in the lot behind the student union,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “What’s your art project about?” he asked.

  “Symbols that are art or can be used as art,” I said.

  “Interesting. Any idea what you are going to do?” he asked.

  “I thought something witchy or occult-like. Spooky and weird,” I said.

  He snorted. “Okay. You aren’t summoning demons, are you?” he asked.

  “No, silly. It’s not real. Just have to make it look artsy,” I said.

  “I wish I could help you on that one, but I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said, as we walked along, but he suddenly stopped. I followed his gaze to see Shawnna half in a young man’s lap whispering in his ear.

  “Is that the other guy?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he responded.

  “Well, go punch his lights out and take her back,” I said.

  He broke his stare. “I don’t want that,” he said. “It just caught me off guard.”

  “You are walking through campus holding my hand. I’m sure people were looking at that. Everyone knows you,” I said.

  Gently he unthreaded his fingers from mine. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.”

  “I didn’t protest,” I said. I couldn’t believe I said it, but I did.

  He smiled. “Maybe if we cut through the student union, we won’t have to deal with her.”

  “Or we could walk right past her like we didn’t care,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, but she won’t come after me. She will go after you, then I might punch her.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “No. But I would want to.”

  “I’m ready for anything. I’m not avoiding her just because she’s a bitch. I’m pretty sure I could match her on that.”

  “Lacey, no, you couldn’t. You are too kind and you’ve got a heart. She’s cold and mean. You could never be like that,” Braxton said.

  “Still. I’m not changing lanes for her,” I said.

  He took a deep breath. “Alright. Forgive me now for anything I might say to her,” he said.

  “Just keep walking,” I said. So, we did. We walked down the short steps to the main patio around the student center. It stretched across the space to a fountain, then on the other side, th
e administration building sat. He didn’t take my hand back, but I suspected he did that to keep me out of the limelight.

  We were almost past her when she spoke up.

  “ So now you like sloppy seconds?” Shawnna asked.

  “Leave her alone, Shawn,” Brax growled back at her.

  “I wasn’t talking about her. I was asking you. It was obvious that she and Fane were banging it there for a while. I bet he is good in bed. Grab ahold of that hair and ride,” she teased.

  I should have known that people noticed. The guys probably didn’t, but Shawnna did.

  “You are a bitch, Shawn,” he said, as he grabbed my hand. I stood frozen, waiting for the tongue lashing she was about to give us both.

  Instead, her man stood up. “You won’t speak to my woman like that,” the large man with deep brown skin said. “Do you hear me?”

  I knew him now that he stood there. His name was Jamarcus Cleary, and he was a fantastic basketball player. He was being recruited by some of the big- name schools like Duke and Kentucky. He stood several inches taller than Braxton, which meant he towered over me.

  “Come on, Brax. We don’t need this,” I said.

  Braxton stiffed at my words, as he blocked me from Jamarcus and Shawnna.

  “You should apologize to her or I’m going to make you apologize,” he said.

  “Look, we don’t want a fight,” I said, but Braxton kept me behind him.

  “You are gonna have one little Miss, if your boyfriend doesn’t apologize,” Jamarcus said, taking another step toward us.

  “You would have more than you could handle,” a voice said to my right. Isaac Denton stood there with Grant Camden who dropped his bookbag like he was ready to fight. Grant was a scrawny guy, but I bet he could scrap it up in a fight.

  “This isn’t your concern, Denton,” Jamarcus said.

  “Well, see, that’s the problem. Those two are my friends, and I won’t stand by when someone is picking a fight,” Isaac said. He managed to wink at me during the threat. Such a flirt.

  “They aren’t worth it, Jamarcus,” Shawnna said, realizing that they were outnumbered.