I nod slowly, trying to fit the pieces together of what that means to me. The bastard didn’t appear to have any magic of his own-- only an obsession with my mother and the occult.Then my mother must have been a witch-- but why leave me with my father? And Aunt Mildred said my father’s family ran in the same circles as the Volkov’s. Wait… does this mean Mildred is a witch?
Kaleb is quiet, while my thoughts swirl around. The air starts to feel thinner and harder to breathe, and a cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. Finally, I have to give up and shake my head. I push away my tumultuous thoughts for another time, when I’m alone and they can be pieced out and examined slowly. It feels like every answer I get, leads to a million more questions.
“I’m sorry,” I say, after realizing I’ve been staring out at the back lawn for an uncomfortable amount of time. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“It’s fine,” he assures, rubbing the back of my hand. His expression is a look of never ending patience, like he’s willing to sit for hours waiting for me to collect myself. “I wanted a chance to check in with you and see how you were doing with everything. The truth about the supernatural world was kind of dropped in your lap, and I can only imagine what the past few days have been like for you.”
“How I’m doing?” I huff, unsure where to begin. “Is it okay to say I have no idea?”
The renegade hair is back, and he tucks away what he can behind my ear. Softly, he tells me, “Yeah. It’s okay not to know.”
Part of me wishes he’d hug me, but I can’t bring myself to ask. I feel lost and overwhelmed, with only my stubborn refusal to really deal with anything keeping me afloat.
I squeeze his left wrist, the connection between us now feeling like a lifeline. “I know it’s been only a couple of days, but have you learned anything about magic that you can tell me? Maybe like how I caused it to rain on an otherwise sunny day?”
“I tried searching online resources last night, but it’s going to take time to figure out what’s real, and what’s human fantasy,” he answers, gently squeezing my wrist in return. “I promise, we will find answers.”
“Thanks, I just… I don’t know anything,” I lament, chewing on my lip. “I know I’m leaking magic, apparently, but what does that even mean? How does magic work? How do I cast spells on purpose, opposed to random rainstorms because Nolan’s ex is a bitch? Is there anything you can tell me?”
Kaleb sighs and looks off into the middle distance. His expression is thoughtful, like he’s going through all his memories and knowledge for anything that might help me. Finally, his gaze shifts back to mine.
“This is all I know,” he starts, his thumb casting arcs against my clutched wrist. “Magic is what connects us all and makes being supernatural possible. As dumb as it sounds, magic is life.”
I squint painfully at him. “Like midichlorians from Star Wars?”
“I assure you, magic will not make you a Jedi,” he snorts. “Anyway, magic connects all things, but not all supernaturals can access magic the same way. For witches, it’s about the elements-- earth, air, fire, water. I have no idea what that all entails, only that witches have strengths in different elements, and it’s only in those elements that they can control magic.”
“So the huge rainstorm means I’m strong with water?” I ask, my brain already starting to hurt.
“Possibly-- or maybe wind?” he postulates. “The storm may have felt sudden, but you could’ve called it from an area where the storm already was.”
“Called it?” I echo. “How did I call it? I didn’t mean to call anything.”
“I don’t know,” he answers softly. “It’s one of things I need to research. As far as I’m aware, witches need to verbally say something to cast a spell, but you did it accidently.”
I want to argue that maybe the storm wasn’t me, but I felt something surge through me when it happened--and there’s still the whole healing factor. I’m doing that without saying anything as well. Unless screaming counts.
“If you want, we can try to run experiments while I search for more information. We might be able to find answers through trial and error,” he suggests, his fingers tapping against his knee.
There’s that annoying voice in my head telling me that’s a bad idea. How I created a thunderstorm by accident. With my luck, I’ll create a tsunami that’ll take out half the coast of Oregon. But I’ve gone so long without answers…
“Alright-- Yeah, let’s do it,” I chirp, then clear my throat. “Let’s figure out how to cast some spells.”
And that’s a thing I get to say now without sounding crazy,I mentally snort.
Kaleb nods and releases a breathy laugh. “We can do it today if you like, after we finish our homework.”
A freefall sensation slices through me, and I shake my head.Not ready.“How about one more night researching. Maybe we can get more information on how spellcasting works, before we experiment.”
He looks thoughtful. “Good idea. With a more focused search, hopefully, I’ll be able to come up with something we can use.”
While I sigh with relief, both our phones buzz with a text message.
I retrieve my hand from Kaleb’s warm grasp and root around in the small pocket of my backpack, while he shifts to dig into the front pocket of his jeans.
After I thumb through the lock screen, I see a message in our group text.
Donovan:Kaleb can recite the damn book from memory. Get whatever spark notes you need, and let’s go.
