Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1)

by Sheena Boekweg

  She smiled when she saw me. “Ms. Alvarez, how can I help you?”

  I looked over to the house number. The white truck was in the driveway, and I knew this was where I dropped Joe off.

  “I’m looking for Joe.”

  Her smile fell when I said Joe’s name, “He’s in his room, but he isn’t feeling well enough for visitors today.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Okay.”

  I started walking out to my car when I heard Joe’s voice inside. “Mom, I think my fever broke. I feel just fine.”

  I tucked my hair behind my ears and held my hand on the car door handle.

  “Riz, wait,” he called out to me.

  I turned. “What’d you call me?”

  “Riz. I made it up. Larissa is kind of a mouthful--you know what I mean--to say. You like it?”

  Riz. It sounded like a tough girl name, not like the sissy pearl-wearing Larissa I had been pretending to be. It felt like kind of a fresh start, a new name for a new beginning.

  “I like it,” I said.

  Joe stood in his doorway in a loose pair of cotton pajama pants and a plain white shirt. His disheveled hair reminded me of the way Fee’s hair always looked like in the morning. Short, but kind of all over the place.

  He smiled at me, and I smiled back. It was so comfortable, being with the boy who would destroy my life.

  “I gotta go.” I said gesturing toward my car.

  “You just got here. Come on in.” He nodded his head gesturing toward the door, “Hey mom, we got any food? I’m starving.”

  He turned into his house and left the door open. I just stood there wondering if I should go in. If Joe could do runes, then I should avoid him or report him. That would have been the smart thing to do.

  Being smart, though, meant I’d have to go home and be all by myself. I looked down at the ground and walked after him.

  The house smelled like paint. Every room was a different vibrant color: the front room a cobalt blue, the kitchen a screaming red. The little green sitting room held the family’s computer and bookcases full of books. Half full cardboard boxes perched in the corners of almost every room. The house looked like chaos and felt like home.

  Ms. Penrod was in the kitchen making peanut butter sandwiches. She made one for me without asking. There was something so comforting about eating food that you or fast food workers didn’t make. It’d been a while for me since that had happened.

  “Hey, you want a tour?” Joe asked.

  He was abnormally proud of this old house as he showed me the kitchen, the front room, and the tiny sitting room. A warm yellow covered the walls of his mother’s room, and a gold and red bedspread covered the queen bed.

  We stood for a moment in front of the final door. It was Joe’s room. He looked at me for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should let me in. Just when I was ready to go back to the front room, he opened his door.

  His room was white, except for one wall. It seemed like every color of paint used in the entire house made up this crushing wave of a mural. The bulk of the color was the cobalt blue, but the red and the green took space in the wave. It made me feel like I was watching the ocean, and hidden in the random waves were various runes painted in perfect patterns. I walked to the wall and ran my fingers about an inch away from the paint. Sparks flew from my fingers as if the entire wall was magic.

  It was amazing. I looked over at Joe.

  “It’s not done yet.” He looked embarrassed.

  “It’s magical.” I said stating the obvious. He looked at me and smiled, and I was glad I came. “Where were you today?”

  “It was the weirdest thing, after second yesterday I just came down with something, so I came home and slept for like fifteen hours. I could barely move when I woke up this morning.”

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I feel fine now,” he said.

  “The water, was that you?”

  Joe cleared his throat, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The rune,” My voice felt too loud when I remembered his mom didn’t know about the magic and was only a wall away.

  I stepped closer to Joe and lowered my voice. “Did you draw the rune for water?”

  “I… Look, I was mad because… My mom was raped when she was sixteen. That’s how she had me. The fact that my… sperm donor… had magic was just a little much to take, you know?”

  I nodded and he continued. “So I went to the guy’s bathroom. Whenever I’m agitated, my fingers kind of draw one of those three shapes, those runes I carried around with me since I was little. Anyway, so I put my hands against the mirror, and without knowing what I’m doing, my fingers just drew the rune for water. This burst of runelight came out my fingers and the sink just exploded with water. It was amazing. I’ve never felt so powerful.” A chill ran up my back when he said this. “I grabbed my bag and ran home, because I didn’t want to get in trouble again. By time I got home, I was ready to pass out.”

  “Joe,” I whispered. I started again with a stronger voice. “Don’t… ever… whatever you do, don’t do runes. Instincts aren’t supposed to do runes. Please, promise me you will never do a rune ever again.”

  “Why?”

  “Promise me, and I’ll tell you, dumbie.” I said.

  “Okay, I promise, Riz. Why should I not do this horrible thing?”

  I took a deep breath. “The kind of magic Instincts can do, like you walking through walls, is way beyond the strength of magic a Rune can do. When an Instinct does runes, the magic doesn’t come out like ink from a pen, it’s more like a fire hose. That much energy exploding out… You could have died, Joe. Worse than that, there are people in our history that are both Instinct and Rune, and they have done terrible things. Keep-you-up-at-night things. That’s one of the reasons the Grandmothers exist. To protect us, from… people like you. If they find out you can do runes, they will kill you and punish anyone around you. Your mom. Me. My mom always told me that if I ever saw an Instinct that could do runes, I should hide. It wasn’t just that Instinct that she wanted me to hide from.”

  Joe looked somewhat green. I looked down at his carpet.

  After a minute, he looked at me, pulled my chin so my face was across from his and he spoke, “I promise, Larissa.” I stared deep into his eyes and he was serious.

  “I won’t.” I knew he meant it, that he would never let them hurt me.

  His mom coughed and pushed Joe’s door wide open. I stepped away from Joe and brushed my hair behind my ears.

  “Your sandwiches are going stale.” Ms. P. said with a slight smile, and then she turned away from Joe’s door. Joe followed behind her. I took one last look at the mural, and then left Joe’s room.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sometimes I wonder if I actually am crazy. These memories, they don’t seem possible, like it’s not right…. It’s as if I’m starting to believe what the good doctor says. What if I’m really…?

  Who cares. These memories are too real. They’re vivid and confusing. I think those last few months just happened so fast that I didn’t have a chance to put them all in order, to make what happened mean the truth. Does that make sense?

  I’m going to keep writing. Real or fake, it’s real in my head, and I don’t think my memories will leave me alone until I get to the end of the story.

  So… here goes.

  For a while afterwards, I tried not to think about the Witch whom I had seen die, or that my mom’s color code somehow ended up on the rune that killed Fake Erica. Because that would mean that my mom was either alive, or there was a way someone could have faked a color code… I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to think about it either way. I even tried not to think about the fact that Joe could do runes, or what could, and did, happen to me because of it.

  Instead, I tried to fill the space those stressful thoughts would have taken up in my head with equally stressful thoughts about a certain teenage boy.

  From that afternoon on, we ent
ered a kind of golden era. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we would hang out at Joe’s house after school, doing homework while his mother looked on. Tuesday, Thursday, and most Saturdays or Sundays, we would hang out at my house analyzing runes, talking about magic’s history, or speculating on what males with magic called themselves. I didn’t know, and we searched my house. But we couldn’t find a single clue about the Grandfathers, or the male fellowship. It was almost as if my dad had never lived there.

  Anyway, I thought because my team was the Fellowship for Female Witches that the dudes must be Male Witches, but Joe didn’t buy that. We both thought the terms wizards and warlocks seemed a bit too ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ to really fit how awesome it was to use magic.

  In that time on our own, it was as if we fit together, as if we were members of the same club consisting of just him and me.

  At school though, it always seemed different between us. He sometimes pretended as if he didn’t even know who I was.

  You know how there are those books where the hero loves his leading lady and treats her as if she’s special?

  Yeah… this isn’t one of those books.

  Take, for example, lunch. Now the school did have a cafeteria with tables, and most people sat in there, but I never did. My friends and I all hung out in the commons area.

  It’s not like we were a gang, or that you had to be a member of the group in order to sit with us. We weren’t the popular kids; we just didn’t care so much about the whole high school class system, and therefore found our place outside of it. There were only a few friends who stuck with me after my parents died, when I was going through such a hard time and couldn’t tell anyone. Most everybody else thought I was a depressed shell, but my real friends stood by me, even when I didn’t talk back to them.

  Anyway, you’ll find out which ones are important as we go along, so don’t worry too much about remembering names.

  So the four days after I met Joe, I was at lunch sitting by Julia and Meg. Julia was talking about tryouts for the school musical, and was trying to get Meg and me to audition with her. Now if you have ever heard me sing you know how hilarious the prospect of that is. And Meg, the boisterous burping contest queen, has a major dose of stage fright.

  Julia, on the other hand, was born to be on stage. She had curly hair, dark skin, and her voice naturally carried across any room.

  Meg was tiny, not even five feet tall, with hair so blonde it was almost white and skin so pale that it didn’t even freckle, it just went straight to sunburn. Most people thought she was younger than she was. Whenever anyone asked if she were like nine or something, she would let out a string of swear words that seemed hilarious coming from such an angelic face. She was the funniest, most loyal girl.

  I miss them all so much.

  Anyway, I was sitting in the commons area trying to avoid Julia’s line of sight, because she was more persuasive than I thought possible given how untalented I was.

  “Larissa, it will be fun,” she said, “You wouldn’t have to say anything or even sing. They always need people to stand in the back and look gorgeous in costumes…”

  Chris leaned down from the step above us he was sitting on and put his arm around my shoulder. “You’d be perfect to stand there and look pretty.”

  I hit him, because that’s kind of my go to move when I feel embarrassed. I don’t hit hard. I’m not abusive; it just makes people look away from me so I can regain composure and not jump up and down and say, “I’m pretty, I’m pretty.”

  Oh man, I’m a dork. When Chris started in on us, I was almost ready to say ‘sure, I guess I’ll humiliate myself just for you.’ Then I saw Joe standing in line for french-fries. I called out his name and waved, and I’m sure he saw me.

  He raised his hand in a half-way wave, stood there looking at me for a second, waved at someone behind me, and then walked away. Chris removed his arm from my shoulder and leaned closer to Julia, who he has been in love with for more than a year. Sweet Julia hasn’t noticed.

  I just sat there looking after where Joe had gone. Meg took one of my fries, and I glanced over at her.

  ‘What was that?’ Meg asked by raising an eyebrow.

  I smiled. Meg and I have always been good at communicating without talking, so I gave her a ‘yes I do like the new kid’ kind of a sigh.

  We didn’t actually say anything, but we’ve been friends so long we didn’t have to. Meg knows I’ve never looked at a guy in a why-don’t-you-come-back-here kind of a way, so she called me on it, that’s all.

  Also, I think most girls are psychic. That has nothing to do with magic, it’s just a general observation.

  I ate another fry and tried to focus on what everyone else was saying. It didn’t work as well as you would think.

  The next day, Ryan invited Joe to sit with us. I don’t know why, they were so different, but Ryan and Joe always got on really well. Ryan was like Superman, kind of. He was spotless. Ryan got a haircut like every three weeks on the dot. Joe... Joe usually had wrinkles of some kind on his clothes, and even right after he got a haircut, he looked like he needed another one. They were both good looking; Joe was hot in a guy way, and Ryan… honestly Ryan was kind of pretty. Anyway, Ryan and Joe got along well together, joking and laughing at dumb things that most the rest of us didn’t understand. They had sixth period gym together, so that’s how they knew each other. I tried not to look surprised when Joe came over and sat with us and then tried to make sure he was comfortable and knew everyone. Along the way if all the girls figured out that I liked him, well that may have happened, but no one said anything. No one needed to.

  Eventually everything simmered down, and after a couple of weeks, things at school felt more natural. I could tell, though, it took some effort on Joe’s part to think of rube-like things to say. So our conversations in front of everyone didn’t flow the way they did at my house when we were alone, or at his house with just his mom nearby.

  I know you’re probably thinking that something romantic started happening between us, but you’d be wrong. Don’t worry. I thought the same thing. Apparently, the only one who didn’t realize that being alone with a cute girl meant you could, I don’t know, hold her hand, or kiss her, was Joe.

  Sigh.

  That dumb, dumb, dumb guy. It was strange, this firm line in the sand from someone without boundaries. It’s as if he knew what kind of touching or flirting actually meant something and then never once crossed the line.

  Still, he knew how to drive me crazy. For example, a couple of weeks into the school year we were sitting on his couch working on algebra. Joe could do algebra in his sleep, so he never studied. I needed to. I was talking aloud as I worked on my homework problems. Joe started fake sleeping, his head tilted to the left, and his ear against my shoulder as he snored. I ignored him and started talking louder.

  “Now if x is equal to twenty-five…” I said.

  He faked snoring again; this time his face fell against my throat, his eyebrows against my neck. I went silent, but I could smell him, his minty breath, his woodsy deodorant, and the honey smell of his magic... My heartbeat sped up, and I swallowed and then elbowed him so he’d scoot away. He sat back and smiled at me, and then pulled some science fiction book from his backpack and started reading. He lay down on the other end of the couch and put his feet on my lap.

  After about a second, I pulled my math book from under his feet and put it down on top of his legs. I went back to work on my math, this time keeping my words to myself.

  I didn’t have any words I could say aloud.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It went like that for a while, the golden age of Joe and I. We played with the runes and tested how to go through walls. It turned out I could go with him through a wall, but only if he was holding me close to him. I didn’t mind testing that one out at all, although when we tried going through walls only holding hands I ended up with a bruise on my forehead that even my transformation runes couldn’t fully cover.

/>   The golden age ended at the Halloween dance. Chris and Ryan convinced Joe to come with us. It was going to be a kind of group thing, and I’ll admit, I had too high expectations for this dance. I really thought that dancing with me would convince Joe to move past this whole ‘just friends’ business.

  All the girls got ready at Julia’s house, because no one could do makeup better than Julia. Julia went as Cinderella in a costume she made herself. Now for anyone else that would mean it looked like a sleeping bag with some glitter, but Julia could sew almost as well as she could sing. She had so much talent in almost every direction, when I met her I thought she was a Witch like me. She wasn’t. Just a freakishly talented rube.

  I’ve always got along with freakish people. It’s the normal ones (like I was pretending to be) I didn’t know how to interact with.

  I went as a Witch in this gorgeous vintage black lace dress, complete with orange and purple striped tights and a tiny pointy hat. I thought it was ironic. I’ve never met a Witch that liked hats.

  It made Joe laugh when I saw him. He was dressed like a Jedi, complete with a light saber the assistant principle confiscated when he walked in.

  I smiled at him.

  He finger combed his hair so it stuck strait up.

  “What?” He lowered his voice, “my mom bought it for me. She’s chaperoning, so I couldn’t not wear it.”

  “No, it looks good.”

  “Don’t say it…” Joe said

  “It’s very ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ of you,” I said with a laugh.

  “…You had to say it.” Joe said, shaking his head and smiling.

  I moved closer and spoke in his ear, “So what do you think? How about the ‘Fellowship for Male Jedis’.”

  Meg “accidentally” bumped into me and pushed me into Joe. My hands went up to brace myself, and my fingers brushed Joe’s stomach, my forehead crashed into his chest. But it was his hands that I noticed; they had phased through the fabric of my dress and rested softly against the skin on my stomach.