The Trouble With Spells (3 page)

His aloofness
spawned many wild tales. Stories were told of how he was a drug dealer, or how
he’d been in juvie because he had beat up a guy in a bar fight. Another one
said he’d gotten some girl pregnant and been forced to leave home to come here
to live with his aunt. But the truth was no one really knew anything about him
because he stayed to himself.

Shelly had a
couple of classes with him. She said he always sat in the very back of the
room, and he never said anything unless the teacher called on him specifically,
but he always turned his work in on time and never harassed the teachers in any
way.

“Do you agree with
that, Miss Mullins?” Mr. Harkins’s voice popped into my head
,
breaking
me out of my reverie.

“Huh?” I said
absently, before realizing I had no idea what the question was.

“You better start
paying attention in math, instead of doodling in your notebook.” Mr. Harkins
frowned.

“Yes, sir.” I sat
up a little straighter, staring ahead at the problem he was going over with the
class.

When Mr. Harkins
turned back to the chalkboard, I glanced down at my notebook and saw I’d
written the name Vance Mangum all over it. I spent the rest of the class
furiously scribbling it out before anyone else saw.

Later in the day,
Shelly and I were sitting in the lunchroom. She was talking away about her
frustration with an assignment her honors English teacher had given her, while
I glanced inconspicuously around at the other students. I mentally kicked
myself over looking for Vance here, since I knew he never ate lunch in the
cafeteria. I just couldn’t figure out why he’d been staring at me so intently
this morning. Frankly, I wanted to see if it would happen again.

I tuned Shelly
out, but my attention was immediately averted back to her when she suddenly
winced and grabbed her mouth.

“What’s the
matter?” I asked, concerned at her look of pain.

“I think I just
broke a tooth,” she replied, throwing a half-eaten cookie with nuts back on her
tray then reaching for her cell phone. She leaned over to show me, and sure
enough there was a chip out of one of her molars.

She called her mom
and told her what had happened. Her mom said she would call her right back, and
when she did she told Shelly to leave school and go directly to the dentist.

Shelly asked if
I’d be able to get home okay, and I told her not to worry I’d catch the bus,
and I sent her grumbling out the door.

The last two hours
of the school day passed quickly. I had my art class, which I loved. We were
working on creating clay sculptures. Mine was turning out to look something
like a pencil holder made by a kindergarten kid, but it was still fun to do. I
enjoyed the creative outlet it gave me.

The bell rang,
signaling school was out for the weekend. I quickly put away my supplies and
washed my hands before venturing out into the hallway. I made the trip to my
locker, organized my bag, and then headed toward the girl’s restroom.

It was then I
remembered Shelly was gone already, and I was supposed to catch the bus. I let
out a groan of dismay, quickly turning to run out the door and down the long
hallway, which led to the boarding gates.

I was almost to
the exit when someone rounded the corner and we collided. I dropped my book
bag, scattering the contents everywhere. I scrambled about in a rush trying to
gather up my things.

“Why don’t you
watch where you’re going?” I said, mostly under my breath. I didn’t even look
up, but I was completely irritated.

“Hey now. You ran
into me,” a soft, sultry, male voice returned. I froze. I moved my gaze slowly
to the feet in front of me. My eyes continued to travel up—over the black
laced-up boots covered by tattered Levis and past the black belt with the
silver buckle to the ever-present, tightly stretched t-shirt with a leather
jacket slung casually over the shoulder. I noticed the pulsating veins in his
neck, and I paused at the soft wide-set lips before looking straight into the
piercing blue-eyed stare of Vance Mangum.

I swallowed hard,
and my entire vocabulary was suddenly reduced to only one word. “Sorry.” It
came out like a whisper, and I wondered if he even heard it.

Vance slowly
squatted down to my level with a slight smirk on his lips.

“Where were you
going in such a hurry?” he asked, picking up one of my books and handing it to
me.

I threw a glance
out the glass door just in time to see the last of the buses leave the lot.

“I was trying to
catch the bus,” I explained, feeling more than a bit dumb. “I forgot my friend,
Shelly, had to leave early today.”

“Ah,” was all he
said. I was surprised when he continued to help me pick up my things.

He handed me my
last book and stood up, reaching a hand out.

I was shocked by
the gesture, but I took it, feeling sparks shoot up my arm at the contact when
he pulled me to my feet.

“I can give you a
ride,” he offered, letting go of my hand, and I felt a little sad at the loss
of it.

I couldn’t speak. Vance
Mangum had just offered me a ride home. What should I say? I must have stood
there looking bewildered because he spoke again.

“Of course, if
you’re afraid of motorcycles.…” He let the sentence trail off, almost like he
was accusing me of being scared.

“No. Not at all,”
I replied with a bravado I didn’t really feel. I raised my chin a notch,
determined not to let him see how nervous he made me. “I’d be happy to accept a
ride.”

“Great.” He smiled
widely, and I almost choked.

I suddenly
realized I’d never seen him smile before, and it was devastating to my girlish
heart. I’d never seen anything so beautiful—all perfectly straight, white teeth,
framed in by those great lips, and masculine dimples that suddenly appeared in
his cheeks.

The guy should
be a model,
I thought to myself.
He’d make millions.

Vance took off
down the hall, and I slung my backpack on, trotting after him like a willing
little puppy.

When we reached
his massive motorcycle, he took his helmet off the seat and handed it to me.

“Safety first.”

“What about you?”
I objected, reaching to take it from him.

“I’ll be fine,” he
replied, swinging his leg up and over the seat while knocking the kickstand up
in one fluid motion. “Just hop on behind me and hang on around my waist.”

I stood there for
a moment, struggling to adjust the strap on the helmet after I put it on. Vance
reached over to help me with it, tightening it nicely around my chin.

“There you go. Perfect,”
he said, and he jump-started the engine.

Yeah right,
I thought. I probably looked like an idiot with my hair sticking out of this
thing and hanging down over my geeky backpack. Thank goodness I’d worn pants
today!

I threw my leg
over the seat, settling on it comfortably, and wrapped my arms around Vance’s
waist. I didn’t know what to do with my feet though. Vance patted my leg and
gestured to me over the roaring engine to put my feet on the pegs next to his.

As soon as I was
situated, he took off, catching me by surprise, and I found myself grasping his
waist tightly with both arms. I couldn’t help but notice the stares of many
onlookers as we passed by them on our way out of the parking lot. I didn’t
blame them. I was in shock too.

The next surprise
I got was when Vance dropped me safely off at my front door without me telling
him how to get to my house. I hopped quickly off the bike, even though I was
sad to let go of him.

Vance helped me
again when I struggled with the chinstrap. When he was done, I took the helmet
off
,
handing it back to him.

“Thanks for the
lift,” I said, trying to casually straighten my wayward hair while hoping he
didn’t notice how horrible I must look.

“No problem,” he
said, not breaking eye contact with me.

We waited there
awkwardly for a couple of seconds, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, I guess
I’ll catch you later then,” I said, feeling dumb because I knew that wasn’t a
likely thing to happen.

He nodded, and I
turned away, tempted to run up the sidewalk to escape further humiliation.

“Hey!” Vance
yelled after me when I’d gone only a few steps.

I turned around.

“Happy birthday!”
He gave me another devastating smile, and then the engine roared to life and he
was gone.

I stood there,
staring down the street after him, until I couldn’t even hear the engine
anymore. With a silly girlish giggle, I turned and ran into my house hoping
Shelly would call me soon.

The football game
was in full swing by the time Shelly and I finally showed up. She had been at
the dentist for a long while, so when she came to pick me up we were running
late.

We quickly made
our way around the field and squeezed into the standing student section near
the pep band. Everyone was intensely following the game as the score was now
tied at fourteen early in the second quarter.

I shook my head in
amazement at what some of the kids were wearing
,
or not wearing to be
more accurate.

We had the typical
row of guys with their shirts off
,
showing their purple-and-black
painted chests. Next to them were the girls in their sports bras with their
stomachs painted too. What were they thinking? Hadn’t someone in the faculty
noticed this yet? I was fairly certain this went way beyond the realm of the
school’s dress code. That was something I’d always found crazy about sports. People
think they need to be half naked to show their enthusiasm. I just didn’t get
it.

The crowd suddenly
roared its approval when one of Sedona’s players intercepted a pass from the
Snowflake team and ran it in for a touchdown.

“It’s Brad! It’s
Brad!” Shelly screamed into my ear over the deafening sound of the pep band.

The announcer’s
voice came over the loudspeaker a few moments later, making the crowd roar
again. “And the extra point is good!”

The score was now
twenty-one to fourteen, in favor of the Scorpions. The rest of the quarter was
a tough struggle between both teams without either one scoring. When the buzzer
finally sounded, announcing it was halftime, each of the teams ran to opposite
ends of the field to huddle and talk things over with their coaches.

Shelly and I
walked out of the bleachers and headed up the hill toward the concession
stands.

“Brad’s doing so
great tonight!” Shelly said with a big smile, linking arms with me.

“He always does
well.” I laughed at her. “That’s why he’s one of the captains.”

“Oh, I know,” she
sighed. “It’s just
… he’s always much more fun after winning a game than
losing one.”

“I’m sure most
athletes are the same way,” I reminded her, moving to take a place at the end
of the line.

We waited our turn
and ordered sodas, but when we turned to walk back someone called Shelly’s name
and motioned for her to come over.

“Hang on a sec,”
she said to me and turned to throng her way through the thick crowd.

I walked over
toward the fence to wait for her, but stopped short when I saw Vance was
leaning up against it casually watching me, his arms folded across his chest.

I stood still for
a brief moment before having a second of bravery, and I walked up to him.

“Hey. Thanks for
the ride again,” I said, feeling extremely stupid. What was I doing talking to
him like I knew him?

“Any time,” he
replied, his gaze flickering over me.

“Really?” I
blurted out before thinking. I felt the crimson color of my blood flooding my
face as the heat crept into it.

“Why not?” He gave
a half grin. “I kind of enjoyed running in to you.”

I met his piercing
eyes—stare for stare—trying to see if he was just messing with me, before
breaking contact with him and becoming suddenly interested in the ground
beneath my shoes. I toed a crack in the sidewalk.

“Do you like
football?” I asked, not knowing what to say and glancing at him out of the
corner of my eye. I’d never noticed him at a game before.

He looked over
toward the field and shrugged slightly. “It’s okay, I guess.” His eyes moved back
to capture mine once again.

 I laughed loudly.
“Don’t let the fans hear you talk like that. You might get mauled. People
around here love high school football,” I said, wondering why I couldn’t stop
babbling on like an idiot when I was around him.

He laughed a
little at my response but didn’t reply, instead just quirking an eyebrow at me as
if he was puzzled by something.

I stood there
awkwardly for a few more moments before I heard Shelly call my name.

“I need to go,” I
said, still feeling stupid. Why did I need to explain myself to him? 

He didn’t reply,
so I turned to walk away. I stopped after a few steps and looked back. “Hey,
I’m having a birthday party tonight. You’re welcome to come.” I found myself
holding my breath while I waited for his reply.

He seemed to
ponder this for a few seconds before he answered.

“Maybe,” was all
he said, continuing to stare at me with that unreadable expression of his.

I returned his
look for a couple of moments, wondering what he was thinking of my invitation,
before turning to walk off to join Shelly.

“Were
you
talking to Vance Mangum?” Shelly asked with a disbelieving look on her face.

“Yeah,” I replied,
my head still swimming over the interaction with him.

“Wow! Twice in one
day!” she exclaimed. “I think he likes you. He never talks to anyone.”

“Whatever!” I
laughed, nudging her with my elbow. “Let’s go sit down before the second half
starts again.”