Haven [1] A Stranger Magic (5 page)

Sam looked at Travis and rolled his eyes again, “Quit stealing your comebacks from old movies, Spicoli”

“Who, me?” Travis said, smiling and placing his hand over his heart, as if he were offended.

“
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
, Jeff Spicoli. Hello? I know movies too, dork!”

This time it was Travis who rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah whatever, it fits. Can we get off of me now and on to the situation at hand please?” then pointed to his stomach. “I’m hungry. I need food, dude. You got anything to eat?” His smile was fading into a more serious frown.

But Sam found it hard to just let the Sarah thing go. It didn’t even bother Travis. He was oblivious to rejection and hatred when it came to Sarah. Sam felt himself becoming more frustrated by the minute. But who knows, perhaps Travis was right, perhaps it was best to change the subject. Besides, if Travis wanted to get his ego crushed by Broadzilla, who was Sam to stand in the way of progress?

“No there’s nothing to eat. Barry was here; what do you think?”

“Dude I’m starving! Can we make something real quick?”

“No Trav. What am I, your mother? You should’ve eaten before you left your house!”

“Come on, Samster!”

“Nooo, Travis! And stop calling me that!” he said as he turned and walked around the front gate.

“Oh man, we’re already late, what’s the big deal?” Travis asked and mumbled something else Sam could not make out.

Travis picked his backpack up and swung it over his shoulder.

“It’s the last day of school! Hey, wait up!”

M
arcus Snider stood at the back of the small, litter-filled alleyway between Angelo’s Bakery and Coffman’s Sportswear smoking his last cigarette before going to school. The buildings were fairly new since the town square had recently been built, but the alleyway was still dark and dank. Large dumpsters were staggered from one another toward the rear of the stores.

Taking long measured drags, Marcus looked on from across the street as the school bells rang for both Junior High and Saginaw High School announcing that the last day of school had begun. The two campuses were across the street from one another.

Teenagers grouped in small cliques began to disband and file through the large metal doors, like oversized lab rats reacting to the bell.

Vernon Emerson and few of his band friends stopped at the crosswalk. They were standing in front of the bakery when they spotted Marcus in the alleyway. They were not fans of Marcus Snider, but no one really was. They were scared of him, just like every other student at Saginaw High was. Not because he was a big, overbearing athlete, hyped up on steroids, with a god complex. No, they were scared because he was crazy in the head, and capable of doing all the horrible things he was rumored to have done.

Vernon fiddled with his shirt and adjusted his collar, which suddenly felt tight on his neck. He was about to turn away when he noticed Marcus staring back at him. Built like a linebacker, Marcus was tall and muscular. He had greasy brown hair that was long and shaggy. His face was scarred with acne, and he had dark circles under his eyes.

“Um, hey Marcus, what’s going on?” Vernon asked, with a slight wave and an apprehensive smile.

Vernon was a tall, gangly kid. He had short black hair and wore thick black glasses that he was constantly pushing back up his nose. He had once seen Marcus fight after school. His opponent had been destroyed and Vernon wanted no part of that.

Marcus stared for a moment at the group. His eyes narrowed into small slits and he sucked on the end of his cigarette until the tip became a glowing orange.

With his lungs full, he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew a steady stream of gray smoke into the air.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Vernon looked over at his friends anxiously, unsure how to reply when Mary Hemphill, a short redhead girl who was standing closest to Vernon whispered, “Let’s just go, Vernon. He’s a creep.”

Vernon looked at Mary and then back to Marcus, who flicked the lit cigarette in their direction.

He didn’t want to upset Marcus, and he certainly didn’t want Marcus to say anything that could embarrass him in front of his friends.

“Okay, sure …” he replied to Mary, then turned to Marcus and said, “Gotta go, we’re late, so see you later.”

Vernon turned just as the signal light changed indicating it was safe to cross. The small group quickly scurried across the street. They looked like a herd of frightened cattle running to safety.

Marcus grinned with satisfaction; he didn’t like Vernon, or any of his band friends for that matter. They were weak, spastic nerds that need to be stomped out like roaches as far as he was concerned.

Marcus dusted the cigarette ash off his black Punisher t-shirt and ran his hand through his hair. He started to walk toward the street light when he saw Sarah and Barry approaching the corner. Marcus grinned again and stepped back into the shadows.

“You go ahead and go. I need to wait for Sam. He didn’t make a lunch, and he’s going to need some money.”

Barry rolled his eyes, “What, why, Sarah? No, you need to walk in with your man on the last day of school. The two hottest people in school need to be seen together. It gives the dweebs something to aspire to over the summer,” he said, laughing at his own joke.

Sarah gave a half-hearted grin and replied, “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep you company, just like you did Saturday night.”

Barry’s smile faded quickly and his cheeks flushed. He wasn’t sure if Sarah had heard what happened, or if she was just saying that to see if he would admit to something.

Sarah knew all about Saturday night, and even if she didn’t, the look on Barry’s face spoke a thousand words. None of which was good to hear.

“What does that mean?” Barry asked, playing along, as if he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. But he knew the truth. He knew all too well what had happened at Mason Parker’s party. He had ended up kissing Brenda Jenson, whom, for the record, he thought wasn’t bad looking. In fact, she was the captain of the cheerleading squad. That automatically made her better looking in his book. Besides, she had always had a crush on Barry. But Sarah was his girlfriend now—at least she had been for the last year. Everyone thought that Sarah was hot, which was an understatement. Every guy wanted to be Sarah’s boyfriend, but she had chosen Barry. Although that had not happened until he made quarterback. It made Barry wonder if she was with him because she liked him, or because he was the quarterback of the varsity team. Sarah was known to have never dated anyone longer than a few months. But they had been together the entire school year, and Barry was proud of that record. No one in the history of Saginaw High had remotely come close to that with Sarah. Even though it took most of the previous summer of being nothing but nice and thoughtful to her—like inviting her to all the summer parties he had thrown, and stopping by just to see how her day was going. In the end it paid off and he was victorious. Sarah Dalcome had fallen victim to the Barry Rogers charm. So, if it happened to end today, he needed to be the one to end it. After all, he had a reputation to protect.

“It means I’ll be waiting for my brother like I said, that’s what it means,” Sarah said, her tone sharp and resolute.

The signal light changed again and the traffic came to a stop.

“You better go, Barry, your entourage is waiting.”

Barry looked up at the light and then across the street where his friends Matt, Jason, Aubrie, and Lisa were waving him on.

“Fine, whatever. Wait for your dork brother and his boyfriend,” he said smugly. Then he jogged across the street with his hand in the air, where he received a high-five from Matt and a pat on the back from Lisa.

The light changed. Sarah crossed her arms and turned toward Angelo’s Bakery. Maybe she should just get Sam something there. After all, lunch at the school cafeteria was always bad. There was no telling what leftovers they would be serving on the last day of school.

Sam was still her brother, even if he was a giant pain most of the time. He annoyed her, but not for the reasons most people thought he did. Sam had it easy; life just rolled off him. He blended in, he was under the radar, and no one ever noticed him. It was like he was invisible. And because of that, people were not always expecting things from him like they did from her. He could be himself and not what everyone expected him to be. Sam didn’t need to put walls up for protection like she did. He had everything—a great life, a best friend, and things were probably only going to get better from here.

Sarah, on the other hand, had none of that. Her friends could not be trusted; they were only her friends because she was popular, and she was only popular because of the way she looked. She could never call one of them up and confide in them, like Sam could Travis, without the whole school finding out. They were all superficial wannabes, pretending to care as long as she stayed popular. She hated who she had become, hated that she had to be so mean to everyone, including her own brother, but that’s what was expected—that was the price of popularity. She couldn’t even be normal in her own house anymore; she couldn’t remember how. She walked around so frustrated and angry all the time. The only restraint she could show was to her mother, because she was all they had left.

Every day she felt like she was getting closer and closer to the edge. She was scared of what might happen if she reached a breaking point. It was hard keeping it all bottled up inside. But what choice did she have? Who could she really tell? She knew the answer to that question—no one. She couldn’t tell her friends that there was more to life than being popular. That there was socializing for the simple purpose of getting to know someone and enjoying their company instead of how they could help you climb the social ladder. Going to the mall with your hair up, no makeup, and eating a big fat pizza without worrying about the carbs. She knew they would never go for that. They would just say that’s what ugly people do. Which was fitting, she thought, because she felt ugly inside, even though people thought she was so pretty. She wanted to tell them she was lonely for a real boyfriend; one that she could trust, not one that liked her for her looks and then cheated on her. She wanted someone to care about her and to like her for who she was as a person.

But again, what chance did she really have? She knew she would never let anyone inside the emotional walls she had built. The risk of being hurt was far too great. Her past choices in friends and boyfriends had taught her one thing—no one could be trusted. Perhaps she couldn’t be trusted to make the right choices either. After all, she was responsible for choosing her friends and Barry. Sarah walked toward the bakery and glanced over to see someone lurking in the alleyway. It was Marcus. He had a roguish smirk of his face.

“Well, well, it looks like the queen might have lost her king, and all because of her jester brother,” he said, laughing.

Sarah was not laughing. She loathed Marcus Snider. He was a bully and a pig. It made her angry just to look at him. For four years students had endured his rude and crude comments and for four years she had done nothing.

The jocks stayed away from him because he was rumored to have stabbed someone in a fight once. Whether it was true or not, Sarah didn’t know. But people had seen him fight on campus many times and he always won.

Sarah was not scared of him; she was more disgusted than anything. Someone needed to teach Marcus a lesson, and maybe the last day of his senior year was a good place to start.

“Keep your mouth shut, Marcus!” she said, her fist clenched at her side.

“Or what?” he shouted back. “Are you gonna call Daddy? Oh, no, wait,” he said putting his hand to his mouth like he was surprised. “You haven’t got a daddy, do you? Maybe your mommy is a little too prissy like her daughter, and no one wants a Dalcome woman!” he said, laughing.

Sarah began to walk toward Marcus, her ice blue eyes narrowing on the filthy, long-haired boy. To talk about her and her friends was one thing. To talk about her mother and father, that was something totally different.

“You had better shut your mouth, you creep!” she said, advancing on Marcus. She wasn’t sure what she was doing; she was no longer thinking straight.

Marcus laughed louder, and backed up into the alleyway.

“Come make me, pretty thing. We can talk about your daddy issues in here. I can be your daddy,” he said with a wink.

Sarah could feel the anger welling inside of her. It was the same anger her mother was always telling her to suppress.

Strange things happened when Sarah got angry. She didn’t know why or how, but sometimes things would break around her. It started about a month ago when she cut her finger on a kitchen knife while unloading the dishwasher. She winced in pain, mad at herself for not paying attention. Sarah became angry. It was at that point the glass of water sitting on the kitchen counter began to rattle. Then, suddenly the glass exploded, sending shards of glass in every direction. She had screamed and ran out of the kitchen. Another time, while she was in the garage looking for a school yearbook she had accidentally backed up into the yard tools hanging on the wall. They came crashing down. She shrieked and clenched her body tight as they fell to the ground around her. That’s when it happened—all eight sprinkler heads on the side of the house burst. Thin jets of water shot into the air nearly ten feet high. Prior to that the sprinkler system had not worked in years.