The Boy Witch

Chapter 3

The next day at school was easier for Samuel. It had not taken long for him to find a place to fit in. In the morning, he sat next to a couple of his new teammates, named Mason and Steven, in class. When he sat down, the boys greeted him readily and engaged him in conversation, like he had been one of them forever.

When the history teacher arrived, he quietened down the class remarkably fast. His students seemed to be a little intimidated by the bulky, well-dressed man. He looked like he could be a sports coach, too.

As the teacher began class, a tardy student came in. Sam’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the intriguing short, blond student. They seemed frazzled, like they had run a few kilometers.

“Sorry, I’m late,” the student said meekly, still catching their breath.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Miles,” the teacher warned him sternly, but with an underlying compassion. It seemed like the teacher struggled to be mad.

Miles… Now, Sam had a name.

“Yes, sir,” Miles replied. He scurried away to his seat at the back of the class, under the comments and snickers of students, as well as Sam’s curious gaze.

“Quiet,” the teacher stated, irritated. Quickly, the class fell silent. Sam turned around to face the teacher, who continued class without further ado.

While he tried to listen to the teacher’s lecture, Sam’s mind was elsewhere. Confused, he wondered just why Miles attracted his attention so much. He could admit that the blond boy was pretty, in a puzzling sort of way. And the boy had a melancholy on his face that was mysterious, like he had a story to tell.

Sam barely managed to focus on the class, which was, he had to admit, quite interesting. The teacher had a way of telling history that made it rather fascinating, like you were watching a movie. The students were engaged, answering the teacher’s questions and laughing whenever he cracked a joke.

After class was over, students packed up their belonging and headed out of class. As the students made their way out, Mason, snickering under his breath, tripped Miles, who stumbled to the ground, dropping his books he had been holding close to his chest. The basketball player and his friends chuckled openly. Samuel wanted to help Miles up, but he failed to, not daring to drop his cover in front of his new friends. But he did not laugh with them.

“Guys, come on,” the history teacher lamented, stepping up to his student on the ground.

“What?” Mason asked, faking incredulousness. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, he’s just clumsy,” Steven added, standing up for his friend. “Right, Miles?”

Miles looked up as he was gathering his supplies and nodded abashedly. He finally picked up his books, with the help of his teacher, and scurried away as the boys offered more laughs. Steven turned to Sam to see if he was amused too, and Sam forced an obviously unimpressed laugh.

Sam was used to this, the jock friends he made being bullies or generally unpleasant people. Sam could only be thankful he was not the target of their teasing. He usually managed not to get wrapped up in their bullying, staying to the side, but he never protested either. He felt guilty sometimes for not being a voice of reason, for not making a difference for the tormented. But Sam was out for himself, and himself only.

With Miles though, things were different. Sam wanted to say something, he wanted to stand up for him, he wanted to save him. Maybe soon he would find his voice.

***

At lunch, Sam sat with Devon and his friends again, but his good humor had left him, after the morning incident with Miles. He still tried to take part in the boys’ conversation, in their banter, faking it as best as he could. The basketball players seemed unfazed by Sam’s demeanor. Sam was a better actor than he thought.