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

“Every living thing will fight for its place on earth,” Mr. Yazzie, my science teacher, said. He stood in front of the class, chalk dust smeared on the front of his blue polo shirt. The blackboard behind him contrasted with the yellow walls, but his polyester pants matched the mustard color perfectly.

I leaned forward, chewing on my pen while he continued. “But if their environment changes and they don’t learn to adapt, then they will inevitably die. Nothing can save them.”

I lowered my gaze to the desk, wondering if I’d done enough to adapt. I hoped so because I was sick of moving. Since my father’s funeral five years ago, my Uncle Jake and I had moved four times, finally settling in Wildemoor.

I liked Wildemoor. It had a rural feeling to it and lots of tall, mountainous trees, but at the same time had all the amenities of a big city. I couldn’t complain about the weather, either. Wildemoor wasn’t as cold as Coast City. Gratefully, I only had to endure the cold of Coast City for a few months before I decided it was time to move again.

A bell sounded, interrupting my biology teacher just as he was about to reveal who he thought would win in a cage fight—protozoa or flagella. His face fell when students jumped up and rushed the door.

“Don’t forget about the assembly,” he called after them.

I let the classroom empty before I stood to relieve my stiff joints. Because of my delay, I caught Mr. Yazzie contorting his body into what looked like a dance position—elbows bent, hands outstretched. He shuffled his feet a few times before he finally thrust his hips forward and left the room. I felt confident he wouldn’t have done such an uncharacteristic move if he had realized I was still in the room, but alas, I often went unnoticed. Being invisible is, after all, my priority.

I gathered my books and followed Mr. Yazzie out the door. He didn’t attempt the awkward jig again, but I had to wonder what caused this sudden break of character. Perhaps he had a hot date tonight, a lady friend he had met on the Internet.

Walking in front of me, Mr. Yazzie reached behind his back and tugged at invisible material stuck deep inside his butt crack. Okay, so maybe not a hot date. Maybe it was the season premiere of some new sci-fi series involving flagella and protozoa battling one another to the death. This theory made much more sense.

I veered to the left and down a long hallway to my locker, where I dropped off my books. I considered skipping the morning assembly. It was just a mini pep rally put on by the principal to get us excited for the new school year.

Behind me, other seniors had the same idea, but they bravely acted upon their desire and disappeared out a nearby door. I decided not to follow in case someone saw me. I might be considered “cool” if caught and thereby labeled. I was comfortable with my current label of “weird-girl” or “who?”, and I didn’t want that to change.

I followed the sounds of noisy students down the hall and toward the gym. Highland High was like every other school I’d been to: light tan brick exterior, white interior walls, and short-weave blue-speckled carpet. The schools even smelled the same: sweat and chemicals, masked occasionally by a squirt of fruity perfume.

I moved into the gym and was about to cross to the other side when I heard, “Llona! Up here!”

May was sitting at the top of the bleachers holding a bag of chips. Today she sat with the stoners. Even though I knew she didn’t get high, she blended in with them well. She wore a baggy, black sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. Her dark, shoulder-length black hair may have been combed earlier, but now looked a mess. Her whole appearance looked unnatural, masking her true beauty.

I maneuvered my way up to her, careful to avoid stepping on anyone. About halfway, two freshman guys began wrestling. One of them bumped into me and knocked me off balance.

Afraid to reach out, I fell forward toward a girl with red hair. She had a metal clip of a grasshopper or a dragonfly—I couldn’t be sure—sticking out of her hair. I closed my eyes and waited to feel the bug’s sting when arms encircled my waist and pulled me back up.

The grip was strong, the motion skilled. I sucked in a breath and turned to thank my hero, but when I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t speak. They were the color of the sky after a spring thunderstorm and were filled with as much calm.

“It’s Llona, right?” the boy asked, smiling.

I flinched when he said my name. How did he know it? As far as I knew only one person knew my name—May. I immediately prickled, brought up walls with mental ten-inch spikes. “How do you know my name?”

He frowned, legit lines creasing his forehead. “Doesn’t everyone?”

I searched his blue eyes, wondering what he meant. His tone wasn’t insulting and yet, how else would he and others know my name unless word spread of how strange I was? It couldn’t have been anything else. I wasn’t popular, that much I was certain.

I gurgled something unintelligible, making his frown deepen. The expression looked wrong on him, unlike his smile. I wished I could’ve told him so, but I suddenly became aware of his hands still touching my waist. The heat from his touch burned into me, made my heart pound in ways it never had before.

“Hey, Llona! You coming up here or what?” May barked from above.

I looked past my hero. Behind him, May stood, hands on hips. “Gotta go."

I slid past him and took the next step up the bleachers, barely finding room for my big foot between two students. Finally, I sat next to May, my head down. I didn’t dare look up for fear of meeting the strange boy’s eyes again.

“What was that all about?” May asked.

“I almost fell. That guy saved me.”

“Who is he?”

“Is he looking?”

“He’s way good looking.”

I elbowed her. “Is he looking at me?”

“Um . . . nope. Who is he?”

“I don’t know.”

“Give me to the end of the day. I’ll find out everything there is to know about him.” May sucked a chip into her mouth.

I risked a glance upward. As if he could feel my eyes on him, he turned and stared at me with those intense blue eyes. Knowledge lurked beyond those glossy orbs, the kind that frightened me. A cold chill walked its way up my spine and exploded on my arms in the form of goosebumps.

May noticed. “You good?”

I averted my gaze and rubbed at my arms. “Cold is all.”

From the center of the gym floor, the principal, Mr. Wilcox, bellowed into a microphone. “Welcome students. Thank you for coming to this exciting assembly this morning. We have a great program today and a wonderful speaker who will share her valuable experiences with us.”

He pulled up his pants—his signature move. He had an oddly large belly resting on top of exceptionally small legs. This odd combination must’ve made wearing pants extremely difficult.

Mr. Wilcox opened his mouth to speak again, but a sound to his left distracted him. On the far end of the bleachers, two boys argued, their voices growing louder with each passing second. A few teachers hurried over to break it up, but before they could, the taller of the two boys shoved the other into a group of nearby students. One of them shoved back, and soon everyone was pushing and fighting.

May stood, taking me with her. “Sweet. A fight. We should totally join.”

Teachers swarmed the area to take control of the situation, but because of all the students, they couldn’t get up the bleachers. All they could do was yell, which was as