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

May shoved her books into her locker. “Do you want to go out for lunch or eat here?”

“I don’t care.”

“Let’s leave then. I hate school food.” She eyed my backpack. “Do you want to put your bag up?”

“I’m good.”

I was lucky to have a friend like May. I wouldn’t call her a best friend because both of us had an unspoken agreement that we couldn’t get too close—to anyone. Where I masked my desire for anonymity by being anti-social, she did it by being everyone’s friend. She knew everybody in the school, but not one person could call her their best friend. And though she did spend more of her time with me, it still wasn’t enough to make someone think we were close.

Our connection was a strange one, but made more sense to me than most people’s relationships. When I’d first moved here last year, May had been my lab partner. We’d only known each other for a few weeks before that day when we both realized the other was different.

The school day was almost over. May, who always smiled, was sitting unusually quiet and somber. I noticed right away, but because we weren’t really friends, I did nothing beyond asking her how she was doing. If I’d been my mother, I would have pulled her aside and found a way to help her. But I wasn’t. Not even close.

When Mr. Allen handed out our experiment involving a liquid-filled beaker, I passed it to May while I read over our assignment. I became vaguely aware that the beaker in May’s hand had begun to boil on its own. I quickly glanced around the room to see if that was what was supposed to happen, but all other beakers remained still. I looked back at May who was staring out the window with a serious, almost sad expression, oblivious to the boiling solvent.

I leaned over to get May's attention, when the beaker suddenly exploded into a round ball of fire. My long hair immediately lit up, followed by shocked screams from everyone in the room. I slapped at my head to extinguish the fire, ignoring searing pain as flames licked my palms.

The teacher rushed to help, but through all the commotion I couldn’t tear my eyes away from May. She was staring at her hands in pure horror, and I had no doubts that, somehow, she had caused that beaker to explode.

When the teacher began to escort me to the nurse’s office, May snapped out of her trance and insisted on following us. I jerked away from her when she reached for my hand. Not in anger, but because I had to keep my hands on my head to prevent anyone from seeing what I knew was about to happen. Even as I moved away from her, I could feel the hair beneath my hands growing.

Of all the strange things about me, this one was the most difficult to explain. For no matter what happened to my hair, it always grew back and always remained the same shocking blonde. I had tried everything from dying my hair to shaving it off but nothing worked. My mid-back-length, crazy hair refused to be anything else.

Once inside the nurse’s office, I convinced Mr. Allen to return to class, but couldn't get May to leave too. When the nurse came in and asked me to put my hands down, I did so hesitantly. From under my hands my long hair spilled down past my shoulders, completely unscathed.

May gasped. “How is that possible? Your hair was on fire!”

I shook my head, hiding my burnt palms in my lap. “Nope, I’m fine. It just looked like it.”

The nurse examined my head. “Nothing wrong here. I don’t know what all the fuss is about. Do you feel all right?”

“Actually, I have a massive headache. Can I go home?”

The nurse glanced at a clock on the wall. There was only twenty minutes left of school. “I guess it will be all right. Will you be able to drive?”

“I’ll take her home,” May offered.

My eyes flashed to hers, and I could tell she hadn’t bought my story.

On the way to her car, she grabbed my burned hands and turned them over. Angry burn marks had already blistered them.

“I knew I wasn’t crazy!” She stopped. “So why does your hair look fine now?”

I looked her square in the eyes and asked, “How did that fire start?”

She looked away, and I continued walking toward the parking lot. She caught up to me a moment later. “My car is over here.”

We didn’t say a word to each other the entire way home, but the next day I suddenly had a new friend, a strange one, but a friend nevertheless. We never spoke about that day again, but that bizarre occurrence had bonded us.

I was about to hop inside the passenger seat of May’s beat-up car when I heard a whistle. Passing directly in front of us, drove Adam and Mike in a sporty-looking red car. The new kid who had helped me earlier sat in the back.

May waved. “Hey, Adam!”

Adam waved his hand out the open window. Adam and his gang were jocks. May occasionally hung out with them, too.

“By the way,” May said after starting the car. “I found out who the new kid is. His name is Christian Stockett. He moved here from Portland. Apparently, he was the star quarterback there. Coach is really excited, but Alex is super pissed. It means he’ll have to be second string, and he hates not being the center of attention. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to be interested. I hadn’t grown up with these guys, so I didn’t know them like May, but I didn’t point that out.

“The new guy’s pretty cute. I bet Erica makes him her boyfriend within a week. She thinks just because she’s a cheerleader she can get whoever she wants.”

“Isn’t Erica your friend?” I asked, knowing May spent time with her.

“Not really. We had a class together is all. She’s too fake for me. Know what I mean?”

I shook my head no, but May kept talking. “Leah asked me if you were trying out for the basketball team this year.”

This got my attention. I liked Leah. She was in my P.E. class and one of the few people who talked to me. “Nah, I’m good.”

“I don’t know why you don’t. You’re amazing at sports.”

Which would put me in the spotlight, I wanted to answer. Make people notice me.

But it wasn’t just about that. I wanted to play sports. I think my body would love the exercise, the competition—for most of the month anyway. But when the moon disappeared, I could barely walk, let alone play basketball. How could I explain my “condition” to a coach? To teammates? They would never understand.

March 12th. That’s when it happened. I was barely fourteen. I thought that was kind of late; my mother had been twelve. I wish I were talking about my period. That would’ve been so much easier to deal with. Other girls knew nothing about real change. Sure their boobs might grow, and their tummies cramp, but whooptie-stinkin-doo. So they’ve become a woman. They knew nothing about transforming. But I did, and believe me it went well beyond a few cramps and perky boobs.

The day of my transformation, I’d never felt so alive and full of energy. I was on point, on fire; I could do no wrong. We’d played soccer during P.E., and I swore the ball and I were one. I scored nine goals, surprising everyone in my class, including the teacher who happened to be the varsity soccer coach. She begged me to try out, insisting she’d never seen anything like the way I played. Neither had I. It just came so easy. My body moved faster than ever before, and my movements were precise. It was an incredible feeling.

Because of my sudden, amazing soccer skills, some of the older girls invited me to a movie that night. Feeling on top of the world, I accepted without question, something I normally didn’t do. But on that day I didn’t analyze. I embraced my decision even to the point of suggesting we go rock climbing before the movie. They seemed surprised as I’m sure they thought me a weak, shy freshman who bent at the slightest breeze. Not that day, though. Like I said, I was on fire.

At the community rec center, I schooled the girls on rock climbing and afterwards engaged in a conversation with a much older boy. I could see awe in the eyes of the girls. I wasn’t used to being looked at with admiration. It was a good feeling. During the movie, I couldn’t sit still. My body refused to be motionless. Without saying goodbye, I rushed from the theater and away from my new friends. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I ran.

I felt the full moon rise behind me. Its light tingled my skin, but I didn’t stop to wonder how that was possible. Instead, I ran harder and faster, my eyes on the forest ahead. The muscles in my body vibrated and pulsed with new life. It was the life my mother had told me to prepare for: the day I became one with Light, the First Magic.

But I wish she would have told me how much the moon would affect my body. When the moon was full, it wreaked havoc on my muscles and only exercise helped relieve the painful sensation. Of course, the vast amount of energy and heightened abilities came with a price. After the full moon disappeared, my body was useless.

“Please consider trying out,” May pressed, glancing at me as she maneuvered her car into a parking lot. “Basketball tryouts are in a few weeks.”

“You know how I am though, right?” When she didn’t answer, I added, “Most of the time I play well, but then there’s my off days … “

She glanced at me sideways. “I heard you get sick a