First Magic, Raven Steele [sight word books txt] 📗

“Please, just let me go. Please?” I tried wriggling free, but my limbs felt too heavy. So did Tek.

Jared stumbled toward us, still hunched over. “Who has the paint?”

Big-kid reached inside his jacket and pulled out a can of black spray paint.

Jared tore it from his hand. “How ‘bout that school spirit, pretty?”

He bent over and spray-painted my forehead. I turned my head to the side to keep it from getting into my eyes.

“Don’t get her hair!” Big-kid cried.

“Quit being such a jack—” but Jared didn’t finish his statement. His body flew over me, stopping only when it crashed into the wall.

Tek looked behind him just in time to get punched in the face. He toppled to my side but not without his elbow cracking the top of my head first. My vision exploded with bright stars.

“Get out of here before I call the police,” a familiar accent said.

My eyes fell upon an angry-looking Mr. Steele, his face blurred with the ones around me. Footsteps ran away until I heard the crashing of a door, but the sounds were muffled, as if they were being filtered through a foam pad.

Mr. Steele leaned over me. “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

Did I? I quickly assessed my body. Besides a mind-numbing headache and a fat lip, I was otherwise unharmed. But my nerves felt like they had been ground up in a blender. I mumbled something incoherent but felt my head shake “no.” No more attention. I just wanted to go home.

“You don’t look well. Let me help you up.” His arm slipped behind my shoulders, and, as if I were a piece of cotton, he lifted me into a standing position.

Everything spun, and my whole body weakened. I leaned into him and dropped my head to his chest. His breathing tightened, and his hands came to my waist and gripped me tightly. My skin buzzed where his fingers met my skin.

My own breathing became labored. I lifted my hand to his stomach and ran my fingers over his chiseled abdomen. I wasn’t sure why. It’s like an invisible pressure had curled around us and squeezed us together.

Or maybe I’d hit my head much harder than I thought. I lowered my hand.

“I want you to know,” he breathed into my ear. “I will make sure those kids are severely punished.”

“Llona?”

I heard the muffled sound of my name but couldn’t tell from which direction.

Mr. Steele stepped away from me. The cool air rushing between us brought some clarity to my mind. I looked up at him, then followed his line of sight down the hall.

Christian rushed toward us wearing his full football uniform, parts of it green with grass stains. His sweaty brown hair was matted to his head. “Llona? What happened to you?”

“Some boys from the other school were too rough in their celebration,” Mr. Steele said, his tone hard.

Every part of Christian tensed, and he glanced around, growling, “Where are they?”

“That’s none of your concern. I will make sure they are properly disciplined.”

Christian reached up with his hand and carefully touched my lip. I flinched. He kept his focus on me while asking Mr. Steele, “The police. Have you called them?”

“I was just about to when you showed up.”

Police? I rubbed at my aching head with the palm of my hand. I’d had to deal with them enough. “Can I go home?”

Mr. Steele stared down at me. I felt myself getting lost in his dark, intense gaze. “You may, but be prepared to make a statement if they require one.”

“I’ll take you home.” Christian held out his hand to me, waiting for me to take it.

“Are you comfortable with that?” Mr. Steele asked me.

I nodded slowly and tentatively slid my trembling palm into Christian’s.

“Go ahead, Christian,” Mr. Steele said to him, “but I’ll be calling Llona to check up.” He turned to me. “Is that okay with you?”

My lips parted, and I whispered, “Sure.”

Christian gently pulled me along, keeping a warm, steady hand on my back. That pressure, though gentle, also felt full of tension and anger. Even when we walked outside, he craned his neck to look around as if searching for my attackers.

Once outside, I inhaled deeply and let my mind clear. The realization of what had just happened to me came crashing down, and my whole body began to shake, my pulse racing. I had never wished for a full moon more than in that moment. I needed its strength.

Christian drew me into his arms and held me tightly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Take in slow, deep breaths.”

I obeyed and sucked in a long breath. Think of something else. Christian’s body pressed against mine did the trick. My pulse slowly returned to normal.

When he felt my body relax against his, he pulled back. “Are you all right?”

“I think so. I got conked pretty good.” I touched my head where a goose egg was beginning to form. “I think it messed with me.”

Christian moved my hand away to inspect the bump. "What were you doing in there?"

“I went into the school to get my trig book but ran into some guys from the other school.” I shivered, remembering the way they had touched me. How helpless I had felt.

Christian glanced over my shoulder. “What did they look like?”

I moaned. “I should go find May. She can take me home instead.”

He didn’t seem to hear me. “This could have been a lot more serious.”

“But it wasn’t.”

He let out a sigh through his nose and flexed his jaw. After a long pause, he asked, “Why were you alone?”

“It’s a school. Why would I ever think I couldn’t go into one alone?”

“That’s not what I meant. You’re weak. You shouldn’t be by yourself.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I stepped away from him. “What did you say?”

“I mean you look sick,” he said, a little too quickly.

“Get away from me, Christian.” I continued moving back. Of all the strange things he’d said to me, this one scared me the most. It hit too close to home.