A Touch of Water (Touch of Magic Book 1)

by C. K. Johnson

  “Tyler. He hasn’t been at school for a few days.”

  “So nothing about Jacob?” Her face lost the amused quality, and her lips fell into a sullen pout.

  “Nothing about Jacob. Should there be?” I grabbed her wrist before she could escape.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed, pulling away from my grasp.

  “Caitlyn, what did you do?”

  “None of your business.” She strode away so fast, I had to trot to keep up.

  “Caitlyn, we need to talk. Tyler left because he healed too fast and the doctors wanted to do some extra tests. He hasn’t been back since.” I tried to weigh my words to convey what I meant.

  “So?” She turned into the girls’ locker room.

  “It’s because of what I did. If they catch on to the fact it’s me and that I did this to someone else, things are going to be bad for all of us. Do you understand? So whatever you did yesterday, I need to know because they are already interested. What did you do?”

  “Nothing.” She didn’t sound quite as sure of herself as she had before.

  I glanced back at the stalls, then squatted down to check for any dangling legs. It thankfully looked like we were alone. “Caitlyn, I know you don’t want to be my friend anymore, but we’re all stuck in this mess. I know you did something—what was it?”

  “They were making fun of me. Drew stood up for me. Then they started making fun of him. They got him in trouble, and now he’s suspended. He can’t take me to prom.” Her voice took on a whining quality that I’d never heard before.

  “Who was making fun of you?” I prodded her when she said no more.

  “The football team. They hurt Drew. And they had to pay.” Her eyes took on a cynical quality that made me shiver.

  “How did you hurt them?” My gut dropped. This couldn’t be happening—I had the water bottle in my closet, but somehow, I knew she’d used it.

  “When I took my bottle, I switched out the stuff inside. I gave you regular water.” She looked away, not meeting my gaze.

  “Do I want to know the rest?” I asked. She didn’t need to say it. Yeah, the football team had its dumb moments, don’t get me wrong, but I had seen how this thing worked. Caitlyn had too, and they didn’t deserve this. It wasn’t right.

  “I figured if it spread out in the water, it wouldn’t be so bad for everyone and they could finally feel what the rest of us feel,” she said so softly I almost couldn’t make out the words.

  “Caitlyn, I don’t know how to fix this. That’s too many people. I don’t even know where to begin. Why couldn’t you have just given them ex-lax or something?”

  “They started it.”

  “Did you just say that? Are you three? I need to go think.” I pushed my way out of the locker room. This was bad. So bad, I needed to find Melissa now. She might have a small clue about how I could get the whole football team together and keep this quiet long enough for me to yank a massive chunk of sorrow out of each of them and do who knows what with it next. I growled and smashed right into Jacob.

  Did his eyes look red? Did he already look paler than he should? Could I yank him into the girls’ locker room and take care of it now?

  “Have you seen, Melissa?” he asked. Well, at least his voice sounded as cheerful as always.

  “I saw her this morning, but not since then. Can I help you?”

  “She’s not answering her phone. Just thought I’d check,” Jacob said, shrugging, but he stayed in front of me.

  “If I see her I’ll let you know,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. I took a side step to get past him so I could head toward my next class even if he wasn’t willing to move.

  “Hey, Lilly?”

  “Yeah?” I asked, debating whether to push him into the locker room. Caitlyn was still in there. We could fix at least one person now, even if I had nowhere to put the water afterward.

  “I’m sorry I took you on that date to make Melissa jealous. I shouldn’t have done it,” he said. “I’m not always the nicest guy, but you didn’t deserve that.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, adding another pat. Were his eyes going redder? Was he tearing up in front of me?

  “See, there you go being nice again, and then I feel like even more of a jerk,” he said, wiping his sleeve across his face.

  “It’s okay, Jacob. It turned out just fine. I met Tyler; we’re dating. Really.” I took his hand. Next step, convince him he could make it up to me by asking him into the locker room without sounding slutty. He half-smiled, but his eyes were still watery.

  Over his shoulder, I spotted Tyler. He was talking to some girl from our chemistry class—I think her name was Becky—and he looked just fine. Why hadn’t the twerp called me back?

  “Jacob, I’ll be right back. Wait here.” I patted his shoulder. By the time we’re done with this, I’ll have patted him more than my dog, Twiggy.

  I hurried across the hall to Tyler. “Are you okay?” I asked, cutting Becky off mid-sentence.

  “I’m fine.” Was he glaring at me when he was the one who hadn’t call me back?

  “Can I speak to you a minute? Sorry, Becky, it’s important,” I tacked on without waiting for her response.

  “Lilly, I’m talking to Becky right now. We can talk later.” His tone came out harsher than I’d ever heard before. I know I was acting weird, but I was trying not to freak out about him less than an hour ago.

  “Tyler,” I started, wishing my voice didn’t sound so needy.

  “Later.” He turned toward Becky.

  “Never mind then.” I turned back toward Jacob, but he had already disappeared. I wasn’t sure what his next class was. If he’d started feeling it, most likely the others had too. I hadn’t lied to Caitlyn when I had told her I had no idea how to fix this. I wish I could talk to Gran and ask her what to do. This just kept getting bigger with each passing moment. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that first night and tell Caitlyn no. What had I been thinking?

  .o0o.

  Okay, one thing at a time. Don’t freak out, I thought as I made myself calm down and head to my next class. I needed to find Melissa and talk this out, and then we could go from there. Maybe the sorrow being in more than one person wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Now that it was watered down, maybe it would be easier to take it out. Maybe was the keyword.

  I checked a few places where I thought I could find Melissa before giving up and going to class. When I couldn’t find her by the end of the day, my panic began to rise. I pulled out my cell phone, ducked into a bathroom, and dialed her. It went straight to voicemail. I hit it again even as I remembered the definition of insanity was repeating the same action over and over and expecting a different result. Answer your stupid phone.

  Voicemail again. “Melissa, I found out what Caitlyn did. I need to talk to you right now,” I snapped before hanging up.

  Behind me, one of the toilets flushed, and I jumped. How could I have been so stupid? What if someone had heard? I hadn’t said anything, had I?

  Ms. Barns opened the door and stepped out of the stall. I flinched and hoped she’d let this drop.

  “Hello, Lilly. What exactly did Caitlyn do?” She turned the water on and ran her hands underneath it before reaching for the soap.

  I did it without thinking, in a moment of panic. Suddenly one of my hands was on hers and the other was under the running water of the sink, and I was pulling this moment from Ms. Barns’ mind as I would a painful memory. But it wasn’t a painful moment. Her curiosity seemed to sparkle as it hit the water and circled the drain. A deeper secret, like a tightly bound thread she held too close for me to see, ran through the middle of the shimmering emotion. It streamed through my hand before I could put my finger on it. I kept tugging, not caring who felt this downstream. Did she already know about me?

  Her eyes got a glazed look as if she were just about to fall asleep and I let go, stumbled backward until I hit the bathroom door, and then snuck out. She was still staring dreamily into the mirror
as the door shut.

  I started for class but couldn’t do it. The mess I had woven was becoming too complicated. With each snarl I untangled, two more cropped up. There had to be a way to make things right across the board, but I was stuck again, with one more thing to worry about. Home, the thought drifted up. I needed to go home. I turned around and started for the parking lot.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was something comforting about walking into my room and finding it exactly how I’d left it. My covers were a half-made mound, my pillow on the floor. I glanced toward the closet that held a useless secret, one broken and one false. Tyler wasn’t talking to me. Melissa wasn’t answering my phone calls. Jacob was starting to feel the beastlike sorrow that I’d barely been able to pull out of Melissa. Caitlyn was no longer my friend, and to top the cake, I had no idea what I’d done to Ms. Barns.

  I lay down on my bed, pulled the covers over my head, and fell asleep, hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

  The sound of the oven shutting woke me up first. The smell of cookies coming from the kitchen tempted me to exit my cocoon. The smell became stronger as my door opened.

  “Honey, what are you doing home from school?” The words sounded far away and muffled. I snuggled further under the warmth and pushed away consciousness.

  “Honey?” My mom rested her cool hand on my forehead. I reached for the covers she’d pulled down and pulled them back up. She stopped the blanket before it went over my head again.

  “It’s been a bad day.” I flipped over so I wouldn’t have to look at her.

  “What happened?” she asked, her tone full of patience. She ran her fingers through my hair. Her touch grounded me in the whirlwind.

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy.” I clutched my hands to my stomach. Tears were escaping as fast as I could wipe them off. I bit my lip. As crazy as Gran.

  “Try to tell me anyway. You’d be surprised at what I can take.” She squeezed my hand and I wanted to tell her, You wouldn’t if you knew what I did.

  “You know how Gran always said we could affect things? And we all thought she was crazy? Well, it’s true.” And from there, it was as if a cork had been removed from a bottle and everything poured out, right up to when I came home.

  I sniffed before whispering, “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  She didn’t answer. In fact, if she wasn’t holding my hand, I would have almost thought she’d left the room, probably to get the phone to call a shrink or something.

  “Mom?” I asked after a few minutes had passed.

  “Honey, I don’t think you’re crazy. I don’t think so because I’ve done it myself. Once, maybe not as big as you, but yes, I’ve done it.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink and this time, I rolled over to stare at her. “You what?” I shook my head as a ton of questions filled my mind.

  “I’ve done it too. It was more of an accident then what you did with Caitlyn, more like what happened with Melissa, but yes, I’ve done it before.”

  “What did you do?” Wow, my mom had been keeping a whopper of a secret my whole life, and I’d had no idea. How many times had we visited Gran and Mom had stayed silent or left the room when Gran began to ramble? How different would my life have been if I believed what Gran said and paid attention? I might know how to fix this. I might not have done it in the first place.

  “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you about it. I’m only telling you now so you’ll know that I understand what you’re going through. So I guess the first step is to decide how to fix the football team?” She smoothed down the hair that had rumpled when I flipped to look at her.

  “I don’t know how and I told you I couldn’t reach Melissa.” My voice came out angrier than I meant it to.

  “Well, what would Melissa do if she was here?”

  Melissa would take control. “Get Jacob to gather up the football team so I could pull it out.”

  “Okay, as I recall, you went on a date with this Jacob fellow once. What if you asked him to help you out?” My mom raised her eyebrows. A smile peeked at the corner of her mouth. The first time she got my date’s name right, and it was while my world was blowing up.

  “I could try.” I pushed the covers even further down and sat up.

  “Then go back and try. The one thing I found with this stuff is the longer you let it work, the harder it is to take it out.”

  I nodded and left the room. “Thanks, Mom.” I didn’t hear her response.

  .o0o.

  “Jacob, can I talk to you a sec?” I said, tapping on his shoulder to get his attention. I had been hovering by the boys’ locker room for the better part of an hour, waiting for him to show up. I hoped he would come. He skin looked ashen like he was sick and his eyes were still red. I swallowed and took a deep breath.

  “Hi, Lilly. Listen, sorry, the team is having a hard time. Can we talk later?” he said as he tried to push a smile on his face. It was so fake, it broke my heart.

  “Well, it’s about that. I heard the team had been having a tough time and I had a really good solution to cheer them up. And it doesn’t even involve hiking.”

  I smiled at my lame attempt at a joke. He just stared at me.

  “Not right now. We’re already struggling, and we’re going against Timp tonight. If we lose, there’ll be nothing left to cheer. Maybe later, okay.” He patted my hand and pushed open the door to the locker room.

  I had one last weapon to throw. I felt sick even letting the words out of my mouth, but this was for the greater good, right? “Jacob, you hurt me when you used me to get to Melissa. You owe me.”

  Jacob hesitated but didn’t turn around. “After the game, Lilly. I’m so sorry.” He sniffed and was around the corner before I could see if I’d made him start crying again. I debated running in after him but I couldn’t remember who all had gone in and how long ago that was. I didn’t want to chance it. I took a seat on the front row of the bleachers and decided to wait until after the game to fix them.

  .o0o.

  I’d never been to one of our football games but none of the football movies my dad liked to watch looked like this.

  The ground shook as the other team ran out onto the field, like an army running into battle. Their orange letters almost appeared red in the stadium lights. Two of their linebackers looked like they should be in college football.

  In contrast, our team looked like they’d barely survived the zombie apocalypse. Did that behemoth on our side even have a shirt on? I cringed at the skull and crossbones painted in dark green on his chest.

  The coached seemed to agree with me because steroid boy trudged back to the locker room before the coin toss.

  Our number 65 seemed to have confused the kickoff with another sport because the ball slammed into an opposing player’s gut, sending the player and ball to the ground with a grunt. The crowd on either side awwwed in sympathy as their number 15 was carted off the field. Number 65 followed the medics to the locker room, passing by me. He kept apologizing to the groaning player. “I’m so sorry, man.”

  The antics continued as their team pushed forward unimpeded.

  “Do something. Will somebody do anything?” Coach Hudson yelled from the sidelines.

  The announcer's voice smothered anything else the coach said. “I think that’s a first, folks. Number twenty, Bronson McKinney, just hugged his opponent to the ground.”

  By the time we got the ball, we were already down 6-0. Our quarterback yelled something, then proceeded to take a knee and didn’t get back up.

  Was he crying? His words were faint, but he seemed to be talking. A woman a couple of people down on the bench stood.

  “What are you doing, Johnny?” she boomed.

  I flinched.

  One of the players from the other team pointed at the quarterback and although I couldn’t make out what he said, his teammates started laughing.

  Skull, now wearing a shirt but no pads, broke position and tackled the joker to the ground. The r
efs blew their whistles as our coach let out a string of curse words and ran onto the field. Another Timp player tried to pull Skull off his buddy, which only seemed to enrage Skull more. I cringed as his knuckles made contact. He ripped the player’s helmet off and landed a solid punch on the guy’s nose, knocking him unconscious.

  Coach Hudson and a ref pulled him off as he drew back to swing again. Bronson grabbed onto the coach and attempted to hug him down. The other ref signaled the announcer, then shouted, “Twenty-eight, ejected for unsportsmanlike conduct. Twenty, ejected for … attacking his own coach.”

  Skull walked off the field still holding the other guy's helmet.

  “Time out,” Coach boomed.

  After a short pep talk, the players returned to the field.

  Number 32 dove for a pass, missed it, and lay down on the ground.

  The announcer came on again. “It appears that Davis ‘The Tractor’ Jones has laid down on the twenty-five yardline.”

  That wasn’t even the worst part. Only two cheerleaders had shown up, and one of them spent half her time running to her boyfriend to make sure he was okay. When she cartwheeled past me, I tried to warn her to stay away, but she took my advice as seriously as if I told her her skirt was too short.

  By the end of the first quarter, the score was 21-0. Coach Hudson’s face went through so many shades of red, it started to look like a paint strip.

  At halftime, the assistant coach looked close to crying, himself. The score was 42-0, and the other team was talking about letting us score because they felt bad. They had one player out because of Skull, but the rest of their players kept scoring touchdown after touchdown with little to no defense in front of them.

  When the coach called the players in, a couple of them sat down with the quarterback on the bench, and began to cry.

  Hudson grabbed 21’s facemask. “What the heck do you think you’re doing, kicking your own teammate in the pile? I said be aggressive, not stupid. You’re benched.”

  “Sorry, Coach. Don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’ve gotta leave me in. Without me, we’re into the third string.”