Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1) (12 page)

I
started with the yearbook for Ms. P.’s junior year. Inside on clean white paper
were people’s autographs and messages. I read the first one expecting to read
the ‘smile’ and ‘have a good summer’ that I always wrote. Instead, there were
several handwritten messages that called Maggie horrible names. There were a
couple from people who said they were there for her, and explaining the
benefits of adoption. A few were helpful, but most were condescending and
condemning. No wonder Maggie moved so far away.

I
looked through the juniors, scanning the page for the right Ash. There weren’t
any, it wasn’t a popular name. I started to doubt if this possibility, this
chance to find this mystery person was just…

About
eight pages in there was one picture scribbled out with a black sharpie. I
stood, got my notebook from my bag, and then sat down by Joe, looking quickly
through it. There. I found the rune for
clean
.

Joe
looked over my shoulder, “Dang, Riz, how’d you get so many runes?”

I
closed the notebook, and slid it under me. “Giara taught me a few.”

“How
many is a few?” he asked.

I
sighed, “A hundred and thirty seven.”

“And
what did that cost?” he asked.

I
didn’t want to think about that. “Joe, the less you know about runes the
better, so don’t look, and I’m not gonna talk about it.”

He
looked at me as if he had more he wanted to say, but I was firm on that, and he
backed down.

The
rune for
clean
is a quick one, just three lines and a dash. When I drew
it all the marker and pen marks on the page erased.

There
he was, Ashford Zabriskie. He had the same take-over-his-face smile that Joe
did... the same full eyebrows. They weren’t exactly alike but you could tell
they were related. They could be brothers.

Joe
was silent, staring at this face. I can’t even begin to understand what he was
feeling. He took a deep breath and when his shoulders rested, they were taller
than they were before, his posture better, and he smiled.

“Google?”
I suggested.

Joe
stood and offered his hand to help me up. “I can do better than that.”

We
cleaned up a little bit (not that you could tell) and then we went inside. Ms.
P. was in the kitchen. Joe must have felt conflicted or angry toward his mom;
I’m not sure, but he walked past her without even acknowledging her presence. I
had no such qualms. I smiled at her, walked to her, and gave her a quick hug.

When
I got in the computer room, Joe was already on it. The screen was different
than I expected, full of https and comp…

“Wha…”

“It’s
all just patterns, Rizzio.” He clicked on something, again, I don’t know what,
and an FBI database opened up.

“Joe.”
I said, my mouth hanging open.

He
looked at me and smiled.

“I
may be on a few FBI watch lists,” he whispered, “but don’t worry. We’ll be
quick.”

He
typed in his father’s name and age and a blurb popped up. Joe copied down the
address, exited the database, and cleared the search history.

His
mom popped her head into the room. “You staying for dinner with us, Riz?”

Joe
put his elbow over the scribbled address. He still didn’t look at his mom.

“Sure,
Ms. P.” I turned and smiled at her. She smiled back and then left the room.

Joe
had Google maps up before I turned back around. Joe’s dad lived off a small
road in Salem, Pennsylvania. Joe zoomed in with street view. There was his
father’s house. It was a small flat board house, and there was a rune for
protection
on the front door.

Six
hours and thirty-one minutes. It would take six hours and thirty-one minutes to
be on that front step and knock on that rune-protected door. I think technology
is better than magic sometimes.

“You
up for a road trip?” I whispered.

Joe
leaned back in the ancient leather computer chair, making it creak. He nodded.

“Okay,
so six and a half hours,” I said. “We could leave tomorrow at three in the
morning; is three too early for you?”

Joe
rolled his eyes.

“I
guess that was kind of a stupid question,” I said.

If
Joe didn’t use his magic enough, it built up in him, and he wasn’t able to
sleep because he’d have too much energy.

“So
if we leave at three,” I continued, “we could get there about nine in the morning,
maybe stay until about noon, and then be home before dinner.”

Joe
and his mom always ate dinner late.

Late.
I glanced at the clock on the bottom of the computer screen.

“Crap.”
I said. Joe turned. “I’m supposed to be on a date with Ryan right now.”

I
think since I knew Fee’s birthday would be a rough one for me, I wanted to feel
my family close to me. That’s why earlier that morning I had put on my mom’s
clothes. So, that’s my excuse for wearing a pair of mom jeans and an
embarrassingly loose tee shirt with a picture of a black cat sewn on the front.
The clothes were too big for me to put my
thin
rune on, but only Joe saw
me, so I didn’t get all girly and shallow and care what I looked like.

I
applied the rune for my hair as I ran to my car, but there wasn’t anything I
could do to alter the look of the clothes. Giara didn’t teach me how to
transform
inanimate objects. You wouldn’t think it would be that different, but take it
from a person who has spent hours trying to change an ugly dress into something
fashionable: it doesn’t work. The magic necessary was so strong, only an
Instinct whose talent was
transformation
could transform inanimate
objects. Like how Fake Erica could transform her clothes into the cheerleading
outfit.

Joe
drove my car to Ryan’s house because we needed him to fill up the tank so we
would be ready to leave tomorrow morning. That early schedule seemed to loom
over me as the boy I happened to love dropped me off at the house of the boy he
was trying to pawn me off onto.

Ryan’s
house was just like him. Perfect to the extreme. It made my OCD happy to see
his perfectly symmetrical house sitting on the top of a hill, looking more like
a Christmas decoration, really, than a house. I walked up the manicured path
lined with Christmas lights and up to the front door. The engine to my car
revved, but I refused to look at Joe as I lifted my hand to ring the bell.

The
bell chime was one of those cutesy ones that played music. Jingle Bells echoed
throughout the house as I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from shivering.
I left my jacket in Joe’s garage, so that black kitten was out for everyone to
see.

Ryan’s
mom answered the door. She was this plump blonde woman who was the PTA
president in elementary school. She wore a Christmas sweater, so my
embarrassment over my kitten shirt diminished. There was a chance she had this
same tee shirt in her closet; it was probably a close thing that I didn’t show
up and find we wore the same thing.

“Larissa,
you must be freezing. Where’s your coat?” she asked.

I
then proceeded to tell this brilliant lie about going Christmas shopping at the
mall and falling into a fountain, then borrowing my mom’s clothes so I wouldn’t
freeze, and then… well you get the idea. I don’t usually lie (my mom taught me
not to) but in a pinch, I find I’m pretty good at it.

When
Ryan turned the corner to see me, I could tell he was confused by the way I
looked. He accepted my story as his mom retold it, and then showed me his
living room where we would watch the movie. He glanced at me again, and again I
could see his disappointment in the way I dressed.

 This
bugged me. Joe never cared what I looked like. He treated me the same when I
looked my best, or when I looked like a slob. Of course, he treated me like his
sister, so that wasn’t exactly helpful.

I
sat down on the plush microfiber couch, and folded my arms to try to hide the
kitten. And my stomach, if I’m being honest. Ryan put a shiny silver disk in
the player and his mom and dad, (a shirt-with-a-collar-and-khakis kind of a
dad) went upstairs to give us some privacy.

Ryan
sat down right next to me, and I didn’t even notice how close he was sitting.
With Joe, it sometimes felt like the side of my leg was next to a heater when
he sat down close to me. As I sat, the heaviness of the day’s events caught up
with me. It was one of those emotionally exhausting days with too much packed
into it, and that three in the morning alarm loomed over my head. I didn’t mean
to, but I kind of, sort of, fell asleep.

Not
for long, I mean I wasn’t asleep for that long. I know Duck Soup, and it had to
be… maybe ten minutes. Ryan noticed though. When I woke up, he was sitting
about a foot away from me.

Oh
man, I felt bad. If Meg was right, and Ryan had liked me since elementary
school, and if boys were like girls (which again I have no idea if they are or
not) then Ryan had probably pictured what this date would be like a bunch of
times. I was disappointed in the date, and I hadn’t thought about it at all.
Ryan’s expectations were probably much higher than mine were.

He
dropped me off before ten, walking me all the way to my front porch. I felt
bad, so I leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, but Ryan must have
misinterpreted my intentions, because he turned his face and kissed me on the
lips.

Nothing.
When his lips touched mine, I honestly didn’t feel anything. It was as if he
touched my lips with any other part of his body, like his feet or something.
That’s how much I felt. Well, no, if he touched me with his feet, I would have
felt disgusted, and that’s actually something. I felt nothing.

He
leaned back, looked at me as if he was thinking ‘Is this the girl I’ve liked
forever?’ and then, without saying ‘goodbye’ or ‘thanks for the awkward date,’
he walked back to his car.

But
I wasn’t the girl he liked forever. He liked the runes, not me. I think he
liked the idea of me, but the actual me… no, not so much.

It
was hard not to take that to heart.

The
next morning… No, three in the morning is too early to be called morning, so...

In
the middle of the night, Joe woke me up by poking my arm. Repeatedly. I pushed
him, and he fell off the side of my bed, landing with a groan.

I
sat up in my bed and then leaned over the side. Joe’s feet were still on the
bed, but his body lay on my carpet.

“There
are rules, Joe,” I reminded him.

He
winked. The sad thing was that just one wink from Joe put more butterflies in
my stomach than a kiss did from Ryan.

Speaking
of which, “So how was the date?” Joe asked. His face seemed a bit too eager for
news.

I
growled at him, walked to my door, and waited for Joe to leave. He moved his
feet and then sat back against the side of my bed, his face looking eager for
details.

“It
was hot,” I said flatly, “So hot. He ravished me repeatedly.”

Joe
smiled, “Really?”

“No!”
I exclaimed, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “It was…” I couldn’t think of
a word to explain it, not that… “It was none of your business, that’s what it
was. Get out of my room so I can get ready. And don’t you dare poke your head
in. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

Joe
left, and I got dressed, feeling remarkably ugly. I armed myself with my runes.
Giara taught me about
transformation
runes. See, inside the pattern of
every
transformation
rune is this shape, a simple four lined rune that
means
transformation
. Then, dashes or lines in different places and
different lengths and shapes changed the details of what I could be transformed
into. I put all three runes on, the thinness, the hair, and the clear skin, all
with one simple rune. It was much cleaner, and more professional, I guess.

I
dressed in a blue polka dot skirt, a lace cami, and a red velvet jacket with
the sleeves rolled up. It didn’t super work, so I threw a teeny black belt over
the jacket, and my favorite vintage gloves.

Downstairs,
Joe was raiding all my cupboards. When I was all cleaned out of snack food and
Joe thought he had enough (it wasn’t by the way, we had to stop at a couple gas
stations for churros and red vines) we went outside. Joe ran to my car and slid
across the hood. I locked my door, both with my keys and with the rune for
stay.

The
air outside was clear and cold. Everywhere was silent, and there wasn’t any
movement, although I kept expecting someone to jump out from behind the tree in
my front yard. The streetlights reflected against the ragged footstep-marred
snow, and the reflected light blocked out all but the brightest of the stars in
the sky.

I
got in the car.

“I
see why you like this time of night,” I said. “It’s so still, so peaceful.”

It
reminded me of why I liked to sleep outside when I was younger and didn’t fear…
well, anything.

“Maybe
I’ll have to wake you up more often,” he said.

“No,
thank you,” I said, smiling.

The
trip started out pretty well; we only had a couple of arguments, mainly because
Joe didn’t find Carole King as brilliant as I do. He preferred angry music that
traded peaceful melodies for a strong beat and screaming. Ulgh. I think I might
have killed him if I had to listen to six hours of Joe’s music, and no judge
would convict me. We settled on music that neither of us liked very well. But
about the time we crossed the Indiana border, we turned the radio off and spent
the time just talking.

As
we got closer to Pennsylvania, Joe stopped talking the way he normally does:
funny, insightful, and, of course, obnoxious. His answers to my questions
shortened, and he stopped asking questions, which for Joe was completely
unheard of. When we crossed the sign that read ‘Welcome to Pennsylvania,’ Joe
put in a CD of his music, and I didn’t complain as it blared so loud I couldn’t
hear myself think, which was the reason Joe liked it so much. After a minute of
torture, I drew the rune for
silence
on Joe’s hand, and another on the
radio. Blissful quiet fell.

Joe
gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and turned the volume of his music
up. I lowered my seat back one notch and lay back on my side. Joe stared at the
road, the light from the fresh sunrise delineating the bones on his face and
the arch of his nose. His lips moved along with the music, as if he was singing
along. His hair was combed carefully to the side, and for the first time I
noticed his clothes. He wore the button up shirt with a collar that his mom had
bought him and he never wore because, well, Joe never wore collars. His jeans
were clean and free of wrinkles. I saw his foot resting against my gas pedal,
his leather shoes freshly polished.

His
face turned toward mine, and I closed my eyes so he wouldn’t see me staring. I
stayed like that for a while, and then the silence inside the car, the gentle
purring of the engine, and Joe’s presence lulled me off to a dreamless sleep.

I
woke up when the
silence
rune ended a few minutes later. Joe was
screaming along to some music. Or should I say “music”.

Joe
looked at me and then turned the radio off, and we both pretended as if it
never happened. We sat in the car in silence, both of us aware of the tension
that was building up inside of Joe.

When
we got to this town called Greenville, we pulled into an older gas station.
Joe’s leg was bouncing up and down. I put my hand on his knee.

“Don’t
worry, Joe,” I said, “we got this.”

He
reached for my fingers and held them in his right hand. He didn’t let my hand
go the whole time we were at Ash’s house.

Not
that I was paying any attention…

Shut
up.