Do You Believe in Magic?

Prologue
There's magic when we hold hands
When you slip your fingers into mine
The memory always lingers

Magic always does happen
Within the feel of your palm

There's magic when we stare at each other
With no words spoken at all
The fire always burns

Magic always does happen
When I'm lost, staring at you

There's magic whenever we kiss
When your lips feather mine
I thirst for more of you

Magic always does happen
As my throat constricts

There's magic when we make love
On cloud nine to the skies above
I yearn for more of you

Magic always does happen
When you send shivers through me

I'm your tricky wand
And you're my magician
Please wield magic with me always

-Emmanuel Emesakoru

Chapter 1- Excitement
"It was amazing!" I told my best friend Trinity as I slammed my locker shut.
"Ohmigawd, you are probably the single luckiest girl on earth Faith. AHHH!!!!" she practically screeched with the biggest smile on her face.
"I swear, he is the hottest guy on earth," she squealed. Of course she was referring to my boyfriend Ryan. And she was completely right.
"And here he comes now," she whispered. She waved and ran quickly to her next class. I swear, you could never meet a girl with more energy than Trinity. We'd been friends ever since daycare, when she shoved me off a swing and broke my arm. I don't know how, but we became the best of friends. Now we were seniors in high school, and she has the same sparkly blue eyes and blonde hair with a lime green strip she added in sixth grade.
My heart accelerated and a smile spread across my lips when I saw absolute perfection coming towards me. He smiled in automatic response to me and closed the space between us.
"Hello beautiful," he said as he stroked my cheek. I looked up at his beautiful brown eyes and couldn't help but smile again. He had dark brown hair and tan skin with brown eyes. He was perfect in every way, and he was mine.
He took my hand and we walked slowly to our last class of the day, English. We entered the classroom and took our usual seats among the popular. Everyone loved and adored us, and we felt like king and queen of the school.
I heard the familiar chorus of "Hey Faith, Ryan," they said smiling. Of course we were probably the biggest piece of gossip in the school, so I just smile.
Ryan and I stared at each other for a second when our stupid teacher walked into the room. He was like an army sergeant mixed with a duck, because he always yells, he's fat, and walks like a duck.
"ALRIGHT CLASS, TAKE A SEAT!" he practically screams through his teeth. "RYAN, FAITH, SAVE IT FOR AFTER CLASS," he adds as I blush. The class lets out a chorus of 'ooooooo' as I sank into my seat.
"NOW," he screams, spitting on the people in the front row, "PAY ATTENTION TO THE LECTURE!"
I, along with most of the class, roll my eyes and pretend to take notes.

When the bell finally rings, I jump up and grab my stuff, and head for the door. I can't wait to me out of my own personal torture.
Trinity and I get in my car, I turn on the engine, and we speed away. "How was your day?" I ask Trinity, humming along to the song on the radio. "Pathetic, like every day," she sighs. Even though she was popular like me, she couldn't get a guy.
"C'mon, life is NOT torture if you don't have a guy!" I half yelled, half joked.
"Says you!" she jokes, smiling at me. We reach her house and she jumps out the door and waves.
I sigh, shaking my head at her absolute energy, and drive. I reach my house, a pale blue beach house along the Florida shore, and park my car. I head inside where my mom was cleaning, and we exchange a smile.
I head up to my room and blast my IPod as high as it will go while I quickly tried to finish my homework.

When I'm about done, my phone buzzes and it's a text from Ryan. 'I have to show you something, I'll be at your house at eight. Love you.'
I wondered what he could possibly be showing me now, considering last time it was a stray kitten, and the time before a field of flowers, so I sighed, going with it.
About an hour and five hundred texts to and from Trinity later, my mom knocks on my door and calls me down for dinner. I get up, brush through my straight brown hair, and run down the stairs.
My brother in sixth grade is already there, making some random shape that resembled nothing I've ever seen out of mashed potatoes. I sit down and grab a roll, chewing on it slowly from excitement.
My mom asked us the usual questions, how was your day, did you do anything special, and all that stuff.