Crystal Magic (Clearwater Witches Book 1)

by Madeline Freeman

Excitement courses through me. Is it possible I could get out of going to sixth hour today? I really don’t want to face Crystal and Bridget and their obscure questions and vague accusations again. “We should volunteer.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Yeah?”

  I nod enthusiastically.

  “Okay then.” He raises his hand. It takes a moment for Mrs. Bates to notice him. “If you need some volunteers, Krissa and I would love to help you in the garden today.”

  Mrs. Bates’s eyes light up and she clasps her hands together. “Owen, that would be marvelous. Thank you so much for so selflessly volunteering to help beautify our campus. I’ll make sure to e-mail your sixth hour teachers to excuse you from class today.”

  At this, a handful of other students regain their hearing and utter a chorus of “me too”s. Apparently everyone thinks gardening is a worthwhile endeavor now that they can get out of class to do it. By the time the bell rings, Mrs. Bates is at her desk scribbling down the names of the dozen students she selected to assist her.

  Owen and I head into the hallway together. “So, is gardening a secret passion of yours or something?”

  “Not exactly,” I admit. “Is it terrible that I just kind of wanted to get out of sixth hour?”

  “Nah. I’m actually a little excited to miss sixth hour, too. It’s precalc.” He makes a face. “I’ll probably regret it tomorrow, but I think it’ll be worth it.”

  A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he says the last part and my stomach flip-flops. Based on the look on his face, he means spending the time with me will make missing class worthwhile—but maybe I’m reading into it.

  We reach my third hour Spanish class and Owen pulls me into a brief hug before heading for his own class. The act is so casual, so natural, like we’ve done it a thousand times before. Only we haven’t. As I walk to my seat, I tingle in all the places his body brushed mine.

  When I sit down, West eyes me suspiciously. “What’s up, smiley?”

  I press my lips together. “Am I smiling?”

  West laughs. “Like a lunatic. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” I say automatically. The last thing I want to do is to make a big deal about the hug to West. He’s Owen’s friend and I don’t want him reporting back to Owen about how silly I’m being, especially since Owen probably didn’t mean anything by the hug. I’m sure I’ve seen him hug Lexie or Bria before, even if I can’t call a specific instance to mind. “I’m just in a good mood is all.”

  I’m spared having to answer any more questions by the arrival of Felix, who take his seat behind us. West turns and engages him in conversation as the bell rings and Mrs. Ortiz takes attendance.

  The rest of the day speeds by. Instead of dreading sixth hour, I’m looking forward to it. Not only do I not have to deal with Crystal and Bridget, I get to spend extra time with Owen. So what if it means digging around in the dirt?

  After health fifth hour, Owen and I make our way down to the commons. Lexie walks with us, pouting the entire way about how we couldn’t volunteer her as well.

  “I’ve got gym this hour. Gym.” She emphasizes the word like it’s the worst of all possible fates. “The class is almost entirely freshmen.”

  Owen snorts. “It’s your own fault. You’re the one who failed gym freshman year. I told you you’d regret it.”

  I raise an eyebrow at Lexie. “How do you fail gym?”

  “She never dressed out, barely participated. Even when the teacher refused to let her sit out, she’d just kind of stand in the middle of whatever game we were playing. Got hit in the back of the head with a basketball several times, if I remember correctly.” Owen wiggles a finger at her face and she smacks it away.

  “It was first hour,” Lexie says by way of explanation. “These people can’t honestly expect me to run around and get all sweaty first hour and then go through the rest of the day like a hot mess.”

  Owen shrugs. “I did.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Well, you’re a boy. No one expects you to be clean.”

  When we arrive at the courtyard door, Mrs. Bates is standing in front of it with a clipboard and a harassed look on her face. From what I can tell, several students are hoping to get added to the work detail last minute and Mrs. Bates seems to have finally gotten wise to the real reason so many people in second hour volunteered to help.

  The minute bell sounds overhead.

  “You’d better get going, Lex,” Owen says. “Don’t wanna fail gym again, do you?”

  She makes a scathing noise at him before the two exchange a one-armed hug. She waves at me, pouting, as she heads out of the commons.

  Despite the fact I’ve been trying to explain away Owen’s earlier hug as no big deal, a wave of disappointment overtakes me as he and I approach Mrs. Bates to get checked off her list. Part of me really wanted for him to give Lexie as simple nod of his head or a wave—something to prove that his hug meant he thought of me as more than just a friend. I was silly to get so worked up. Clearly, a quick goodbye hug is just something he does.

  Despite my disappointment, my spirits remain high as we begin our gardening work. Owen and I are assigned to the same task—pulling some annual flowers from a bed along the cafeteria wall—and as much as I try to ignore it, a thrill courses through me each time our hands brush. I know it’s a dangerous road to travel, but I can’t help it that I’m developing a crush on Owen. It’s hard not to—he’s kind, friendly, and attractive. And is it really so crazy to think he might have more-than-friendly feelings for me too?

  We’re nearly done with our task by the time the final bell of the day rings, and while about half of the volunteers disappear through the doors into the swell of students moving through the cafeteria and commons, Owen and I agree to stay and help Mrs. Bates cover the beds with compost. Mrs. Bates gives us each a bag and shows us where and how to spread it.

  As I gather the rich, black material in my hand, the promise, the potential within it is tangible. I cover my assigned area as evenly and thoroughly as I can, imagining the flowers that will grow there in the spring. In that moment, I understand why Jodi spends so much time out in her greenhouse. It’s both relaxing and invigorating to work with the earth.

  By the time Owen and I leave, nearly half an hour later, the hallways are void of students.

  Owen nods toward the bathrooms by the stairs at the far end of the commons. “Let’s get washed up.”

  “Sounds good,” I say and head into the girls’ bathroom. It’s strange to see it empty; during the day, it seems like there’s someone in every bathroom at any given moment. I turn on the tap and fill my hand with soap from the dispenser as I wait for the water to warm. I gaze absently into the mirror over the sink as I lather my hands, picking at the dirt under my nails. When I’m almost done washing, something sparkly catches my eye. I quickly rinse and dry my hands and turn around to locate the source: On the floor of the center stall is a necklace.

  I look around the bathroom again. I know I’m alone, but suddenly it feels like I’m not. I shake my head to dispel the feeling. There’s no one else in the room.

  I move to where the necklace lies. It’s an odd spot, for sure, and I’m positive whoever it belongs to is missing it. I pick it up. A clear crystal shard dangles from a thin silver chain. I know I’ve seen it before, but where?

  I leave the bathroom, and Owen is already standing in the commons, waiting. His eyebrows cinch together when he sees me.

  “What have you got there?” He moves close to me, so close that his shirt brushes against my elbow. I shiver.

  “I don’t know. I just found it in there.” I hold it out toward him. “Does it look familiar to you?”

  “No. Maybe we should take it to the lost and found. Someone’s probably looking for it.”

  I nod, but my eyes don’t leave the pendant. There’s something that’s familiar about it. Not just the way it looks, but the feel of it. I let the crystal settle into the palm of my hand and a shock shoots t
hrough me, like a bolt of electricity. I gasp and close my eyes to collect myself. An image flashes in my mind.

  Green eyes.

  My eyes snap open and I shake my head. There’s something about this necklace. Something strange. I look at Owen, but he doesn’t seem to feel what I’m feeling.

  “This is so weird,” I murmur. “It’s like déjà vu or something.”

  “What? You remember finding this before or something?”

  I shake my head. It’s not that—not exactly. “No. It’s like... It’s like I know this necklace or something. Does that make any sense?”

  He smiles. “Not one bit. Come on, let’s get it to the office.” He starts for the nearest hallway.

  As I walk, I look down at the pendant. Something about it is familiar. “Owen, touch this.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “Do what?”

  I grab his hand and press the pendant into his palm. “Do you feel anything?”

  “Besides this cold rock being shoved into my flesh? No.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s go.”

  I hesitate for a moment. I don’t want to relinquish the necklace. It feels like it’s supposed to be mine—like I used to own it but lost it and forgot about it. I can’t explain the feeling. But I try to shake it off. Owen’s right. The best thing to do is to turn it in to the office. Someone out there is probably actually missing this.

  We enter the front foyer of the school, across from the office. The distinct click of high heels echoes through the open area. From the hallway to the right, Crystal emerges, walking as fast as her shoes will take her, followed closely by Mrs. Cole.

  “You can check the lost and found tomorrow,” Mrs. Cole says, sounding both harassed and tired. “You can’t just wander the halls after school.”

  “I’m not wandering.” Crystal’s voice is equally irritated. “I’m looking.”

  Mrs. Cole sighs. “Are you sure you wore it to school today?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I wear it every day.” Crystal’s eyes zero in on me, a smile playing about her lips. “Look,” she says, pointing in my direction.

  Mrs. Cole closes the distance between us. “Krissa, what’s that in your hand?”

  I look down and, reluctantly, hold the crystal pendant out toward her. “I found it in the commons bathroom.”

  “We were just heading to the office to turn it in to the lost and found,” Owen says, moving to my side.

  An eager look spreads across Crystal’s face. “Can I have it back, please?”

  Mrs. Cole reaches forward and takes the pendant from my hand. When her skin makes contact with the crystal, a gentle shudder passes over her face. It’s so quick, I’m almost sure I imagined it. Except I know exactly how she’s feeling right now—or near enough. There’s something strange about that necklace.

  Mrs. Cole’s eyes go to Crystal, who reaches out to snatch the necklace, her hand closing over the principal’s. Mrs. Cole wrenches her hand from Crystal’s grip. “Where did you get this?”

  “Does it matter? It’s mine.”

  “It’s true,” I say, a memory floating to the surface of my thoughts. The day I met Crystal—the day of the coffee spill—she had been wearing it. “I’ve seen it on her.”

  Crystal looks mildly gratified and reaches for the necklace again.

  Mrs. Cole holds the pendant in a closed fist close to her chest, an odd look crossing her face. “Crystal, will you accompany me to the office, please? I’d like to talk to you for a moment.”

  Crystal crosses her arms over her chest. “Will you give me my necklace back?”

  A spasm crosses Mrs. Cole’s face, and for a moment I think she’s going to tell Crystal no. “Yes,” she murmurs finally, holding the necklace out so she can look down at it. “But first I’d like to talk to you.”

  I glance at Owen, and the look on his face tells me I’m not the only one who thinks Mrs. Cole is acting strange. Why isn’t she just giving Crystal the necklace back and calling it a day? Unless I’m right, and she saw something when she touched the pendant too. Does she know something about the man with green eyes I’ve glimpsed twice now? I want to ask her, but I know how it will sound. And I don’t want Owen to think I sound crazy, to look at me the way the kids at my old school did.

  Mrs. Cole sways on her feet and takes a quick step forward to regain her balance. Owen moves to her side and grabs her by the arm. “Are you okay?”

  She presses the hand holding the necklace to her forehead. “I’m fine. I just… Just a dizzy spell.”

  Owen doesn’t release her. “Let me walk you to your office.”

  Mrs. Cole smiles at him, shaking her head. “That’s not necessary.”

  “I insist,” Owen says. “Ma’am.”

  Mrs. Cole doesn’t refuse him a second time and they begin walking toward the office. Crystal and I follow.

  “It’s a nice necklace,” I say as we walk.

  Crystal appraises me out of the corner of her eye. “Thanks. It was my aunt’s.”

  “The original Crystal.” The words are out of my mouth before I make the conscious decision to say them.

  She arches an eyebrow at me. “Yeah. I never knew her, but wearing it makes me feel close to her.” She shakes her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  My fingers go to my father’s ring hidden under my tee-shirt.

  We arrive at the main office and Owen takes Mrs. Cole inside. Crystal follows, but I linger in the hall until Owen returns.

  “That was weird,” Owen murmurs, placing his hand on the small of my back and pressing gently as we start toward the parking lot.

  “Yeah.” There’s something strange about that crystal pendant. I felt it, and so did Mrs. Cole. I’m not sure why Owen couldn’t sense it.

  I shake my head. Sense it. How silly. I must be imagining things. I saw the necklace on Crystal’s neck the first day of school; that’s why it was so familiar to me.

  Still, that doesn’t explain the fact that it felt like it was mine, like something long forgotten. It doesn’t explain the shock that coursed through my body when I touched it or the vision of green eyes that flashed in my mind.

  Jodi said crystals could sometimes store energy. Maybe I just experienced the release of some kind of stored energy. Or was it something else entirely?

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wake up before my alarm Friday morning and can’t fall back asleep: Tonight is the dance.

  At breakfast, I drum my fingers against the table. It seems to me Jodi is eating in slow motion, savoring each bite of her banana nut muffin and her apple slices, taking painfully tiny sips from her mug of tea.

  “Are you even going to eat?” she asks, surveying me.

  I look down at my own plate, but food doesn’t appeal to me. My stomach is too full of butterflies. “I’m not hungry.”

  She presses her lips together. “At least stick the muffin in your backpack in case you get hungry later.”

  I nod, eager for something to do to work off my nervous energy. I go to the kitchen and try three drawers before I find the one with sandwich bags. As I move to the living room to put it in my backpack, I hum.

  “What’s with you today?” Jodi is standing in the archway between the dining room and the main hallway. “You’re all keyed up about something.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh, I know what it is. You’re really looking forward to the overnight inventory at the shop. I can’t blame you: Eight at night to six in the morning spent counting every single thing in the store makes for a pretty fun night. Devin and I usually order pizza and play music really loud. Around three, we really start getting loopy, and last year, we may or may not have danced on the counter by the register while singing karaoke.”

  I freeze. Inventory? Is this the first time she’s mentioned it? There can’t be inventory tonight—I’m supposed to go to the dance. She knows that. She gave me permission.

  Jodi claps her hands together, laughing. “Oh, my gosh, the look on your face right now is priceles
s. I wish I thought to have my phone ready to take a picture!”

  I gape at her. “You’re not serious about inventory?”

  She shakes her head. “Of course not. Even if I was, do you think I’d be so mean as to make you miss a fun night with your friends to come hang out with me?”

  She laughs again and I’m finally able to take in a deep breath. A second later, I laugh too. “You’re evil.”

  “Eh, maybe a little.”

  At school, the excitement in the air is palpable. In first and second hour, people are buzzing about their plans for the evening. Miss Buchanan and Mrs. Bates even play along, spending the first part of the hour asking girls about their dresses and asking boys if they remembered to buy corsages for their dates.

  But by third hour, something changes. As I try to make sense of the translations Mrs. Ortiz assigned for homework, my attention wanders. The girls sitting behind me are engaged in a whispered conversation and my ears perk up when I hear Mrs. Cole’s name.

  “Yeah, she’s not here today,” says Jayne, a girl with a sheet of black hair that tickles the desktop as she speaks.

  Her friend Haley taps her pencil on her textbook. “That’s weird. Mrs. Cole’s, like, never absent. Especially not when there’s a school event.”

  I bite my lower lip. Mrs. Cole is absent? I saw her just the other day. She seemed fine then.

  But even as the thought enters my mind, a memory floats to the surface to combat it. Mrs. Cole hadn’t been fine when I’d last seen her: She was dizzy. Owen had to walk her to her office. If she’s sick, I wonder if there’s something Jodi could give her to make her feel better.

  When the bell rings to end class, I pull out my cell and tap out a quick text to Jodi to ask just that. When I’m finished at my locker, my phone vibrates.

  Thanks for the info. I’ll check on her. Shouldn’t you be learning or something?

  I smile and fight the urge to tell her it’s lunchtime and I’m not disrupting my learning by texting.

  The cafeteria is more boisterous than usual. Mrs. Cole’s absence is measurable in decibels. When I settle down at the table, West is already there, along with Felix and another guy I recognize but have never formally met. The three pause in their conversation when I sit, regarding me as if determining whether I’m trustworthy. I pass the test and they begin talking again as I pick up a chicken tender.