Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1) (17 page)

BOOK: Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1)
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CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT

    

We
went back to my house in silence. The return of our own faces seemed to bring
back the awkwardness. I wish I knew what Joe was thinking, but Joe wasn’t good
at communicating his emotions. His fingers kept twitching as if he were drawing
Ash’s rune.

At
six-thirteen, we were inside my house, sitting down at the kitchen table. The
box of pizza was still on the table, the pizza inside going stale. It is a true
testament to the seriousness of the situation that my OCD and I didn’t put that
darn box away.

Joe
flicked his fingers against the table, and I opened my notebook to the page of
my newest rune. He leaned in close to me, our shoulders brushing together as we
both looked at the rune.

“You
know what it reminds me of,” Joe said a few moments later.

“What?”

“It
reminds me of the rune on the SUV that crashed into Fake-Erica.”

“Hmm…”
I flipped back to the first few pages of my notebook. Joe was right; at the
center was a mark for…
confusion
,
compulsion
… Except the rune Ash
left on Ms. P. was very different around the outside. It wasn’t a closed rune,
so it was a working rune, but…

“Test
it on me.” Joe suggested.

“Are
you kidding?”

“It
obviously didn’t hurt my mom, test it out.”

I
sighed. “Alright, but if this kills you…”

“Don’t
be so melodramatic,” he said.

I
drew the rune for
who-knows-what
on Joe’s arm, and then we both watched
to see if the runelight would start to fade.

“Well,
that’s a dumb rune,” Joe said. “That didn’t really do anything.”

The
runelight didn’t even fade.

“That’s
so weird.” I said. “Why would Ash come all this way to put a rune on your mom,
and it not do anything?”

“Who
knows?” Joe said. “You know, I don’t know what to think about him. I’ve hated
him my whole life, but now...” Joe looked at me with those sunflower eyes,
“I’ve never seen my mom that happy.”

His
fingers started shifting in his hand, but I didn’t think much of it.

“Did
you know he was the one who kidnapped me?” I said. “He was the first one who
hit me.”

Joe
was silent. His fingers kept shifting, but I was too angry to care. I turned
away. Joe put his hand on my arm, his face angry. “I’m sorry, Riz.”

He
kept his fingers brushed against my arm.

I
laughed bitterly. “Remember how we thought he was going to save us?”

Joe
smiled, but it was a deadly brand of smile. His fingers twitched against my
arm.

Brilliant
red runelight followed his fingers as he drew the rune Ash had drawn on his
mom’s neck against my forearm. He looked at me with panicked eyes, the warmth
of his eyes burning the skin on my face.

The
Instinct level rune cast, and a fire hose flow of
love
poured through
me. Before I knew what I was doing, I climbed on Joe’s lap, my fingers running
through his hair. My lips moved against his, and the burning, the burning fire
of his magic just consumed me. Joe put his hands on my back, and he started kissing
me back, his fingers against my bare skin adding more heat to the fire that
threatened to burn me up.

As
soon as I realized what I was doing, I pulled back. My lips felt raw.

“Take
it off.” I whispered, and the flow of
love
poured through me stronger,
forcing my lips to his. I pulled back with all my strength.

“What,
my shirt?” he said.

I
hit his shoulder with the back of my hand. At least part of me was still
functioning. I started to giggle. He was the funniest person I had ever met,
the most brilliant, handsome, wonderful… My lips found his again and my mouth
opened.

What
am I doing?
I thought.

I
pulled myself back. Joe was not that funny.

I
kissed his cheek, “The runelight,” his neck, “You…” his lips again, “Idiot.” I
said between kisses.

Joe
put his hand against my arm, and clumsily he wiped the runelight away. The flow
of need released me, but my own need still sat me there, gasping for air. My
hands entangled in his hair, my heartbeat still pounding, my heart still
wanting him.

I
climbed off the chair, walked to the kitchen sink, and turned on the faucet.
The
promise
rune that hid on my hand started to burn. I fought the
impulse to pick up the phone to call Giara and turn Joe in for drawing a rune.
I stuck my head in the sink, and the cool water stung as it fell against the
burning on my cheeks and my mouth.

When
I stood up, the side of my hair was wet, and a splash of water fell against the
counter. I turned and dared myself to look at Joe.

He
was completely still. His hair stuck up vertically, and his sunflower eyes were
filled with fear, confusion, and most clearly to me, hunger.

It
was the
love
rune I had drawn on him; it was still active. I sighed and
walked to Joe, and he followed my every step with his eyes burning against my
skin. I wiped the runelight from his arm, so he could think clearly, but the
hunger never left his face.

I
sat back down in my chair, just across the room from the phone. The skin on my
hand burned. Maybe I should send him home, so I could call Giara.

What?
No. I wouldn’t betray my… Joe.

“You
promised,” I whispered when I could speak again. “You promised me you wouldn’t
do a rune.”

Tears
fell down my cheek, and Joe caught them with the side of his palm.

“I’m
sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” He started to pull his hand back, but then
bravely, he bit his lip and then left his hand against my cheek. “So that was a
love
rune?”

I
tried to look away from his sunflower eyes, but I couldn’t.

“Yeah,”
I said.

“No
wonder it didn’t work for me.”

I
sucked in the muscles on my stomach and looked down. “Oh.” I said, heartbroken.

“No.
No, Larissa, the rune you did on me didn’t work, because it didn’t have to. I’m
already there.”

“What?”
I asked.

Joe
smiled, tears glistening in his eyes. I couldn’t help but smile back. The
warmth on my face was receding; it didn’t feel like fire, not anymore, but more
like fresh sunshine. Like sunshine from a perfect day, filling every inch of
this moment.

Joe
blinked several times, took his hand from my cheek, and held it against the
side of his head.

“Larissa,”
he said my name with tenderness. “I… My head.”

I
took in the look of pain as it filled his face, and then held him, under his
arms as he started to fall off the chair.

“Joe!”
I shouted as he collapsed into me.

Best
as I could, I lay him down gently on my cold tile floor. I just stared at this
big hulking man who loved me as he lay dead asleep at my feet.

It
was bitter, this joy I felt. It was like a light so bright, it burned my eyes
to look at it. I ran the fingers of my left hand through his hair, against his
lips, as all along my right hand a line of gold appeared through my skin,
freezing every inch of flesh the runelight touched.

I
glanced up at the phone.

No.
No, I wouldn’t. I tried to wipe away the runelight, but it wouldn’t budge. Flecks
of my own color code enwrapped with Giara’s in a twisted line of runelight. It
was too strong for me to remove alone. I needed someone to help me.

Maybe
if I called Giara, she could help me.

No.

I
was in a fight again, but the fight was against my own mind. I couldn’t do
this. I had to leave. I stood up and walked past the phone, a part of me
stronger than I thought possible threatened to strangle me with the need to
fulfill my promise. To keep my word. My mother would have wanted me to call…

No.

I
walked past the phone and walked out the back door. Fresh snow was falling in
sheets of misery. I left Joe behind, and was that wrong? Maybe I should go back
in there…

NO.

I
tried to leave my house, but I couldn’t go far before the
promise
rune
bound me to the ground. I had an idea. In my backyard, we had a tornado
shelter. I walked to it, unlatched the rusted lock with the rune for
open
,
and then climbed down the musky stairs.

The
first thing I saw was Fee’s pink and purple bike, and then my dad’s golf clubs.
This wasn’t only the place we went when storms were raging; it was also where
we stored everything we weren’t using. In one corner, underneath a pile of
blankets, was my mom’s abandoned exercise bike. I don’t know why she bought it;
she could have just used a
transformation
rune if she wasn’t happy with
the way she looked.

I
pulled the blankets off the bike, sat down on it, and started pedaling. I rode
that bike until the heat of my body was stronger than the freezing pain on my
hand, until my heartbeat pounded out my fear, and until I was too tired to
think anymore. I rode for miles, for hours, running away as best I could, but
not actually going anywhere. Because I couldn’t leave, as much as I wanted too,
I couldn’t.

When
my body was too tired to keep going, I stopped pedaling. My feet kept spinning
without any assistance until slowly the turning ceased. I got off the bike and
walked up the stairs. Each step I took felt as if my legs were giving up, but I
think I stood by sheer force of will. It felt like the ground beneath me was
still moving, moving faster than I could keep up with, and my head was
swimming.

The
stars were out when I walked out into the snow, and the snowflakes had stopped
falling. The frozen ground crunched as I made fresh tracks through the yard and
into my house. I didn’t kick the snow off my feet, and I left behind trails of
wet that clung to the carpet, as if trying to slow me down by my OCD.

Joe
still lay on the floor. The pizza box lay askew across the table. The phone
still lay on the charger.

I
glanced at the clock. It was one thirty in the morning. I hoped it wasn’t too
late to call Giara.

And
then, with my back to Joe’s unconscious body, I dialed.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE

 

Henry
Jarbonie died last night. He killed himself. In some ways, it breaks my heart,
although we hadn’t ever spoken more than five words to each other since I got
here. I wonder if I had talked to him, if he would still be here. I’m spending
so much time writing this story so that you, invisible reader, will have a
chance to read it. There are real people around me. Why does your life mean
more to me than those I can actually see? I could have told Henry this story.
He wouldn’t have thought I was crazy.

I
couldn’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone anymore. I’m seventeen years old, yet
I feel like I’m carrying around this massive gulf of regret and guilt. I’ve
done things wrong, and I can’t find a way to fix it.

We
are almost to the bad part in my story, when things went wrong, when I ended up
here. I don’t want to get to the end. I don’t want it to be true.

So
today, I’m taking the day off. Yeah, maybe I am avoiding the ending, but for
this day, Henry Jarbonie will mean more to me than you do. Even if I didn’t
trust him.

For
this one day, I will slurp my Jell-O, just for him. For this one day, I’ll look
around and try not to hate everyone who shares this life with me. For this one
day, I’ll try to be who I remember I once was.

For
this one day, I’ll take my pills.

CHAPTER FORTY

 

When
I pushed the green button on my phone so I could make the call, there were
these three beeps indicating there was another message on the phone. Part of me
was curious who had called while I was on the bike, but that part was
exhausted, and the part of me that was rune-controlled held the phone. I dialed
Giara’s phone number, and she woke up groggy.

“What?”
she snapped.

“It’s
Larissa.”

“What’s
wrong?” Giara said, her voice suddenly alert.

Everything.
“Was my mom a Grandmother?”

I
could hear Giara sigh into the phone. “Larissa…”

“She
didn’t die from a car crash did she,” I said not asking the question, just
telling her what I knew. Giara was silent. “An Instinct named Michael whose
talent was
death
killed my whole family.”

“How
do you…” Giara whispered.

“Did
you know that Leo’s healings feel like honey, and when he hits you, you want
him too, just so you can feel it again?”

“Larissa…”
I could hear the concern in her voice.

“Why
did you send Joe to Plymouth?” I asked. “Was it just so I’d spy on him for
you?”

“I
didn’t send Joe to Plymouth,” she said. “Your mother did. She thought a teenage
Mage might just make you more interested in magic, and do you know what the
saddest thing is? It worked. Thousands of years of Witches are rolling in their
graves right now.”

“Wait.
My mom… mom set us up.” I laughed. It was a miracle, not a manipulation. That’s
amazing. I think…

“Joe
did a rune.” The words just fell out of my mouth while I was processing a
miracle. I wanted to draw them back in, deny them, pretend they never existed.

I
could hear Giara’s intake of breath. “He did a rune. Did he hurt anyone?”

“No,”
I said emphatically. “No one got hurt, no property was damaged, and he didn’t
mean to do it.”

“This
is his second time accidentally doing a rune,” she said. “What happens the next
time? We don’t give third chances. We don’t usually give second chances.”

“Why
did you then?” I asked.

Giara
was silent for a moment. “Because I’m not as hard as your mother was.”

I
couldn’t respond.

“But
I don’t have that option now,” she said. “The law is clear on this one.”

“If
you hurt him…” I said.

“I
don’t have a choice.” Giara sighed again.

There’s
always a choice, I thought. My mom was the one who taught me that. I held my
tongue.

“Look,
Larissa,” she said, ”he’ll be weakened after doing the rune, and there’s a limited
time to stop him. I’ll be there soon, and we can talk about anything you want
to, okay? Afterwards.”

I
closed my eyes.

“Give
me three hours, alright?” she said. “Three hours.”

I
hung up the phone without saying goodbye. I stood there in the kitchen,
watching Joe’s chest rise and fall with every labored breath. The phone rang in
my hand. Giara.

“What.”
I said.

“Larissa,
thank heavens you answered,” Ms. P. said. “Have you seen Joe? He didn’t come
home tonight.”

I
glanced at Joe’s sleeping body. Giara would be here soon. I had to hide him; I
had to keep him safe.

“He
called me an hour ago,” I lied. “He was mad about something, and decided to go
for a drive. He borrowed my car.”

Ms.
P. took a deep breath. “Did he sound okay?”

“Yeah,”
I said. “He’s gonna be fine, Ms. P. Don’t worry.”

She
let out a breath. “That’s a mother’s job, Larissa, to worry for their
children.”

“And
sometimes the kids take it upon themselves to worry about their mothers.”

“What
are you talking about?”

“Be
careful with this Ash guy, Ms. P.” I said. “He’s not who he says he is.”

I
could hear a male voice through the phone. Ash was still there at Joe’s house.

“Why...”
she started.

“Be
careful, Ms. P.” I corrected myself. “Maggie, please be careful.”

I
hung up again, because apparently today was the day for hanging up on grownups.

I
sat down on the ground next to Joe, and the runelight on my hand sprinkled
away. I put his head in my lap, and then started playing with his hair, waiting
for Giara to come and kill him.

No.

I
had done my part of the bargain, but that was over now. I would protect Joe no
matter what. That meant it was time for us to go. I wasn’t on the Grandmothers’
side, but I wasn’t on the Grandfathers’ side either. It was their war, not
mine. Not Joe’s. We weren’t their pawns, their weapons, or their tools.

We
were on our own side. If that meant we were at war with both the Grandmothers
and the Grandfathers... heck, with every person in this entire world who could
use magic... then so be it. Let them bring their worst. We were ready for them.

If
only Joe would wake up.

BOOK: Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1)
3.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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