"Oh, don't look so worried, Lexie. You're going to be fine," Jeanie said as she pulled up behind a queue of cars dropping off students.
"You really can't be okay with me putting all of my classmates in danger?" I asked, for probably the fifth time since we'd left the house. "I set my bedroom on fire, Jeanie."
"Last night, you were taken off guard. Now, you're all right. Look," she reached across the car and took my hand, "no magic here."
I retracted my hand and stared at my fingertips. "Yeah, but what if—"
"Lexie, you're one of the most brilliant kids I know," Jeanie said, and I was too shocked at the rare praise to respond. "Magic is simply another part of you, and it always has been. Just like you can use that brain of yours to remember all those useless facts and quotes, you can use your mind to control your magic. If you want to control it, you will."
"Thanks," I said, although I didn't quite understand what she was saying. If I had no idea what I was supposed to control, or how to control it, I wasn't sure how effective my will was going to be.
Jeanie pulled up in front of the school and turned to me. "Before you go, I have two ground rules with your magic. The first is you are not allowed to use your magic on anyone. Not your sister, not students, anyone."
I nodded.
"Second, which should go without saying, is that you aren't allowed to do magic at school. And until you get a handle on it, you are not allowed to use it unsupervised."
Again, I nodded, although I wanted to argue that I hadn't actually willfully done any magic since I'd received it.
"Are you picking me up later?"
"Unfortunately, you'll have to ride with Marie this afternoon. I've got a few meetings I can't get out of. But later tonight, we'll go out to dinner for your birthday, all right?"
"Okay," I said, cracking open the door. My stomach was a mess of nerves, but I took some solace in Jeanie's lack of concern. If she thought I wasn't a disaster waiting to happen, then maybe I wasn't.
Still, I stood on the curb for a moment, clutching the straps of my bag and gathering strength of mind and will. Behind me, another car pulled up, and two freshmen popped out, ignoring the driver and each other in favor of their phones. They didn't even acknowledge me as they brushed past my shoulder.
I waited for something to happen—what, I didn't know, but something.
The girls finally noticed me staring at them and gave me a look. "What?"
"N-nothing," I squeaked, taking a step back and waiting for their faces to melt off.
The girls looked at each other, giggled, and walked away. Another car pulled up behind me. Standing outside, staring at the school probably wasn't the best idea, so I adjusted my backpack again and marched inside.
The halls were already filled with students, all of whom paid me no attention. But then again, why would they? Outwardly, I was just another kid. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I wouldn't royally screw things up. Maybe Jeanie was right and if I wanted to control my magic, I could.
A sliver of calm made its way into the raging storm in my head, and I relaxed the tension in my shoulders as I repeated my new mantra. If I wanted to control my magic, I could.
I approached my locker and all serenity went out the window as Callista and Joel stood in the way, making ga-ga eyes at each other. I stepped forward, hoping they'd see me and they needed to move.
Nope. They continued staring longingly into each other's eyes, and I rolled mine. Get a damned room.
"Excuse me," I said.
Callista giggled loudly and made some comment on Joel's sports-ball performance.
"Excuse me," I said, a little louder.
Joel said something about Callista's car being a mess.
"Excuse m—" My words died on my tongue as a purple glow caught my attention. I stuffed my hands into my pockets before anyone saw them.
"Oh, sorry, Lexie," Callista said, finally noticing me standing there. She and Joel scooted a few inches to the left to grant me access to my locker.
"Uh, never mind!" I said, spinning on my heel and rushing to the bathroom.
There were already girls lined up against the sink, smearing on lip gloss and checking their eye makeup, so I dashed into one of the stalls. Carefully, I pulled out my hands, which resembled Fourth of July sparklers.
"If I want to control my magic, I can," I whispered to myself, willing my sizable reasoning abilities to overpower the panic.
I closed my eyes and whispered the words over and over again, not caring if anyone heard me. After my heartbeat returned to normal, I chanced an eye open.
My fingers had stopped sparkling.
Brrrring!
And I was late for class.
The benefit of having a schedule full of AP and dual enrollment classes was that I barely even remembered I had magic in the first place because I was too busy trying to absorb the waterfall of information. My rotating schedule had Chemistry as the first period of the day, where I struggled to understand the solubility of fluoride salts of alkaline earth metals. Second period was math; there, at least, I understood the concept behind the binomial expansion and Pascal's triangle. In third period English, I was just glad to I escape notice because I definitely didn't remember anything I'd read in To Kill a Mockingbird. And I spent three-quarters of my graphic design class staring at a blank white screen in Photoshop.
By the time lunch rolled around, my brain felt about as gelatinous as Nicole's silver potion. As usual, I headed outside to eat lunch. There were already other students outside as well, but they didn't pay me much attention. I picked the farthest picnic table away from the rest of them and sat down to eat.
I looked at my hands, thankful that other than a little sparking this morning, they had remained un-ignited. I groaned and took a huge bite of my sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. A gust of wind blew the clouds away from the sun, and I was bathed in warm, bright sunlight. After spending all day inside, I was squinting, and wished I'd had my sunglasses—
Before the thought even left my head, my sunglasses appeared next to my hand in a puff of purple smoke.
I almost choked on my sandwich, glancing both ways to make sure no one had seen it. Fingers trembling, I touched the sunglasses to confirm they were, in fact, real before slipping them onto my face.
"Huh," I said.
I sat back and took another thoughtful bite of my sandwich. Accepting that magic was real opened the door to a different thought process.
I had magic.
Which meant...well, I supposed I could summon sunglasses. I could do probably anything I wanted to. I had no idea what the limits of my newfound powers were—or anything about them, really. But if I could summon sunglasses, I began to wonder what else I could conjure with the snap of my fingers.
My turkey sandwich on white bread was suddenly unappetizing. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching me, I considered what I really wanted to eat for my birthday lunch. I envisioned a thick, juicy steak and a baked potato with sour cream and butter and flicked my wrists like I'd seen Jeanie do.
But nothing appeared.
"Well, damn," I said, sitting back.
Okay, so apparently there were limits to what I could do, and conjuring a steak was one of them. Huffing to myself, I reached for the sandwich again. Two bites in, I remembered my magical spell book. If I could summon my sunglasses, maybe I could summon the book, too.
"Uh...bring the book!" I said, flinging my wrists out.
This time, it appeared in that same cloud of purple magic.
I heard laughing, and my heart stopped in my chest. Had anyone just seen what I'd done?
After a few moments, I spotted the source of the laughter. A group of juniors was hanging around one of the tables. They noticed me staring at them and I quickly looked away. I didn't think they'd seen anything, but I wasn't eager to attract their attention.
But now I had the book, and at least a few minutes to read it. I quickly flipped to the first chapter to pick up on where I'd left off the night before.
THE BASICS OF SPELLWORK
Spells are distinguished by their outcome and the object with which the magic has been applied.
A SUMMONING SPELL, then, will present object to the summoner without use of the physical movement;
A CHARMING SPELL will animate an object as if it were alive;
An ATTACK SPELL will cause physical harm to another magical user;
Et cetera.
A Magical's best tool for spell work is a well-crafted mind. Magic is but an extension of the Human Will, and it is as powerful as the mind it inhibits.
While there are certain birth-given limits to the Mind of a Magical, a good Master will improve upon these limits as a sword on whetstone. Daily reading of Latin and classical works, Magical History and Theory, as well as daily practice in arithmetic will sharpen the Mind for more effective spellmaking.
I chuckled to myself; perhaps this book had never taken an AP class because my brain was mush after a full day of "mind-sharpening."
The first chapter seemed as dull as the preface—more talk about the importance of a basic education. Then again, based on the age of the book, it was probably written in such a time when primary education wasn't a given.
A few things struck me as I continued reading the book. First, as Jeanie and Nicole had alluded to, magic was controlled by willpower and mind more than anything else. Which, I supposed, made sense. Second, the book mentioned several times that innate ability was the groundwork, but with practice and discipline, a magical without much power could stand toe-to-toe with someone who had a lot of power but didn't practice.
The one thing I wasn't getting was the concept of a Master. The book referenced it often as a teacher of sorts, but I also got the impression a Master was a parent or a guardian, especially as the book discussed the best foods a Master should feed their apprentice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Just as I finished the first chapter, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. My own meal was left forgotten, and the book in my hand was too big to hide in my backpack.
"Okay, go home," I said to it. It didn't move from my hands. "Go home," I repeated, more forcefully. A particular tingling feeling emanated from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I closed my eyes and let the new feeling wash over me.
The warmth of the sun was gone, and I cracked open an eye. Everything was dark—I was also still wearing my sunglasses. I pulled them off, hoping when I did, I'd be at school and not...
Nope, I'd somehow magicked not only my spell book but also myself all the way back home to my bedroom.
"Crap!" I said, throwing the book onto my bed and trying not to panic. I could handle this. I could get myself back to school.
"Okay...go back to school!" I said loudly.
I waited for the tingling feeling, but felt nothing. My hands weren't even glowing.
"Go back to school!"
Nothing. My heart began to thud against my ribcage. I was skipping school, and I might've had a test in French this period. A test, of course, I'd barely studied for, so was going to fail anyway.
"Not helping!"
I willed myself to go again. And again, nothing happened.
Over and over again, I tried to take myself back to school, but I remained in my bedroom. As the minutes passed, the panic escalated until I was nearly hyperventilating and was now wondering if I'd magicked away my magic.
Was that even possible? I buried my head in my hands. Not only was I skipping school and missing a quiz, but I'd somehow ruined my own gift not even twenty-four hours after receiving it.
I took a deep breath, in the feeble attempt to get a grip. I couldn't have lost my magic. That made no sense.
And yet, I can't even make my fingers glow.
I shook away that thought. Okay. If this had happened before I'd had magic, how would I have resolved the problem? My inner voice taunted me—I never would've been in this predicament before because I didn't believe magic existed.
I'd have to call somebody. But who?
Jeanie would probably yell at me.
Marie would laugh, tell all her friends, and hang up.
Nicole! Nicole would understand.
I rushed to the phone and dialed the familiar number, praying she would pick up.
"Hello?" Nicole said.
"Hey," I whispered. "It's me."
"Lexie, what are you... Why are you calling me from home? Is everything all right?"
"No, I'm...I'm home," I said, feeling the tears well in my eyes. "And I don't know how I got here!"
Nicole was silent on the other end of the line, and I started to feel stupid.
"What do you mean, you don't know how you got there?" Nicole asked.
"I was sitting at lunch," I said, my voice gradually growing higher. "And the bell rang, and I...just...appeared at home. And I think I lost my magic."
"Lexie, really," Nicole said, sounding annoyed.
"Can you come drive me to school?" I said. "I don't know how I can—"
"Are you kidding me? You want me to drive forty-five minutes to get you so I can drive you three miles to school? Are your legs broken, too?"
"What?"
"I know you've got magic now, but just because you can't figure out how to transport yourself back to school doesn't mean I have to drop everything and come get you. Why don't you just walk?"
"W-walk?" I said, the concept foreign to me.
"Yes, like you did before you got magic," Nicole snapped before hanging up the phone.
Walking—that made sense. Why didn't I think of that? Stupidly, I shouldered my backpack and rushed to school, hoping I could make it before the test was over.