The Boy Witch

Chapter 10

“Did you get groceries?” She asked.

“Yes, Mother, I did,” Miles replied. He knew what was coming.

“Did you get me something to drink?”

“I’m a minor, Mother, I can’t buy alcohol,” he tried to explain.

“You could have swiped it,” Mallory criticized. Her tone was angry and resentful.

“I’m not going to steal liquor for you,” Miles continued. He held back a sigh, trying to contain her anger.

“You better hope I have some left,” Mallory growled. If she had no liquor left, she had plenty of empty bottles to throw at Miles.

***

Miles and Sam met at their tree a couple of times a week, at night, when their families had gone to bed. As he continued to practice with Sam’s help, Miles had much fewer nose bleeds, and could bind objects easily. They began, too, to practice levitating objects. Sam often brought a basketball along as a target for Miles to practice on.

“How about this?” Sam started one night, holding up his basketball. “I throw the ball at you, and you stop it in mid-air.”

“Okay, let’s try,” Miles responded.

The boys stood a few feet apart. Miles adopted a ready stance to receive the ball. Sam threw the ball straight at his friend, who simply caught it in his open hands.

“The ball is too fast,” Miles commented. “I’m not fast enough to stop it.”

“Try focusing on the ball before I throw it,” Sam suggested. “I’ll throw the ball in an arch, so you have a bit more time.”

“Sounds good,” Miles smiled. He threw the ball back at Sam who caught it with ease, though Miles was not a very good thrower.

Sam prepared himself, bending his knees a little bit. As Miles focused, Sam threw the ball up as if shooting it at a basket. Miles raised his hands, but was unable to stop the ball, which instead landed right on his face, before falling and rolling on the ground. Miles reached for his face and held onto it.

“Ouch,” he let out.

“Are you okay?” Sam stepped up to his friend, catching the ball on the way.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Miles answered, before letting out a laugh.

Sam laughed, too. “That didn’t work.”

“I need a break. Can we sit down?” Miles asked, suddenly tired.

“Of course.”

The boys walked up to a tree and sat down at its base. Sam held on the basketball as he sat. They were quiet for a moment, just enjoying each other’s company. They had grown much more comfortable with each other since Sam first discovered Miles’ secret. They were turning into good friends.

“How’s your sister?” Miles asked, a question he frequently asked since the bus accident.

“She’s doing well,” Sam replied. “She’s seeing a therapist regularly to deal with the trauma of the accident. She’s a tough cookie. I’m confident she’ll be alright.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Miles continued.

“How’s your mother?” Sam asked in turn. He worried a lot about his friend and his home life.

“Same old, same old. She hasn’t thrown a bottle a me in a while, so that’s nice.” Miles tried to chuckle, to lighten the situation. But Sam wasn’t laughing.