Witching on a Star Read online

  Callie dropped her arms. “Oops, sorry. I’m just so excited! We’ll be heading to Brown in a few short months and then it’s Rhode Island hotties for everyone.”

  Grinning as I pinned my cap to my head, I asked, “Is there really a difference between Rhode Island hotties and Georgia hotties?”

  My best friend’s brown eyes widened, her mouth dropping open like I’d just announced my alliance with Adolf Hitler. “Are you kidding me? The Rhode Island hotties are way better than Georgia hotties. I mean, they’re sophisticated and have those northern accents. They shouldn’t even be allowed in the same sentence as these wannabe hotties.” She brushed a hand off toward some of the male students. My eye focused on one male student in particularly.

  Jaron stood with his back to me, his gown already on and his cap covering the tight black curls on his head. He laughed at something his friends said, making his broad shoulders shake. I’d been in love with him once. Or at least, I thought I was. Now, it hurt just to look at him. A petty part of me wanted him to feel the burn of rejection the same way I did.

  That light in my head froze up for a moment before becoming even more chaotic.

  “Do you smell smoke?” Callie asked, knocking me out of my daze.

  I sniffed the air and did smell something burning. A familiar voice cried out, and my eyes jerked back to Jaron, who was fighting to get the robe off, the edge of it set ablaze. My eyes widened, and my heart beat rapidly in my chest. Had I done that? I’d been thinking about burning, and then he suddenly caught on fire like that? It had to be a coincidence, right? Something inside me that had been off all day told me that it wasn’t. Not at all.

  Chapter 2

  The roar of applause filled my ears as I finished my speech. I didn’t know how I got through it. Or how I even remembered what I said with the shock of what happened to Jaron.

  They were able to get the fire out before my ex-boyfriend was burned to a crisp. Sadly, his robe did not make it. The teachers figured Jaron was smoking a cigarette which got too close to his robe. This caused him to get into big trouble as well as keeping him from walking with the rest of us.

  I wanted to step up for him. I knew without a doubt that Jaron would never smoke. His grandfather had died of lung cancer. Smoking was abhorrent to him. But what was I going to say? His robe spontaneously combusted because I was thinking about burning him for hurting me?

  Yeah, that would go over well.

  I barely managed to walk off the stage and take my place with the other students without tripping over my own feet. No one seemed to notice though, they were all too caught up in the day, getting their diploma and moving on with their lives. Only Callie gave me a curious look of concern, but even that didn’t last when they started calling our names.

  As they started to name off the names, my mind whirled once more with what happened to Jaron. I never really wanted to hurt him. I certainly wouldn’t have set him on fire if given a choice. So, why did it happen? Was there something wrong with me?

  Soon, they were calling my name and somehow, I walked toward the stage. I climbed the stairs once more and took my diploma. I didn’t stop to take pictures but kept walking toward the other side of the stage and right out the side door. I knew my mom was going to get me for it later, but I really just needed to get some air.

  There was a flutter of voices behind me as I raced out of the auditorium and then out of the convention center. When I saw the sky, I quickly pulled in gasps of air. Usually, in this kind of crisis, I would get into Child’s pose which involved me sitting on the ground, but concrete and dresses don’t really mesh well. Instead, I did the second-best thing, a standing forward bend.

  Clasping one arm over the other, I bent forward so that my top half was hanging in the air. I took slow deep breaths in through the nose and out through my mouth, praying to whoever may be listening to help me.

  I’m not insane. It was a coincidence. The teachers were right, someone was smoking.

  Even as I tried to sell it to myself, I knew it was a lie. Too many things had happened today for it to be just a coincidence. But if it wasn’t, then what happened? Was I telekinetic? No, that didn’t sound right. I haven’t moved anything with my mind lately. I also couldn’t read people’s minds. Thankfully, that ruled out telepathy. I had to be some kind of mutant breed. How else did I explain what happened?

  Before I could get too much into my evaluation of my mutant genes, the door to the convention center burst open behind me. “Max!” my mom called out and then sighed. “Oh my God, there you are. I was so worried. What’s wrong? Why’d you run out like that?”

  I jerked up from my forward bend, a mistake I quickly paid for as the wave of vertigo took over. A hand held my shoulder, keeping me from falling over. I closed my eyes and centered myself. When I felt like I would topple over, I turned to my mom.

  “I’m sorry to worry you.” I offered her a small smile. “I just got a bit overwhelmed by it all. You know the graduation, finally leaving for college. It all kind of caught up with me.”

  My mom believed the lies I was spewing and gave me an understanding smile before pulling me into her arms. “Oh, honey, I understand. I was where you were not too long ago. It’ll be hard, leaving one life to start another. But at least you have your family to help you through it. I didn’t have that.”

  My lips pursed together at the mention of my grandparents. I’d never met my mom’s parents. They never agreed to mom marrying my dad, and so they never wanted to be a part of our lives. Even when I was born, they stayed away. I never missed them though. I had dad’s parents to fill the void of grandparents. They spoiled me rotten too.

  Thinking of them made my heart swell, and some of the anxiety faded away. While we were hugging, the ceremony must have finished because out poured my graduating class and their friends and family. I held onto my mom, just basking in her embrace while the crowd of people swarmed around us.

  My mom had always been my touchstone. No matter how bad things got I always knew she could make it better, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what happened with Jaron. I knew she would love me no matter what, but how did you explain what I suspected without sounding like a crazy person? It wasn’t until my dad came out with Callie in tow did I release mom.

  “Hey Max,” Callie wrapped her arms around me, pulling me against her side. “Where’d you go? You missed Patrick Zelken flash the entire auditorium.” She giggled and swayed us back and forth.

  “Alright, ladies.” My dad held up his camera. “Let’s get a few pictures so we can get out of this madhouse.”

  For a moment, holding onto Callie with a big grin on my face as my dad clicked away on his camera, everything was perfect. All the weirdness from the day faded away into the back of my mind. It was just a singular perfect moment. The kind that only happens once in a lifetime and shouldn’t be taken for granted. And I didn’t plan to miss a single second.

  I had that same mindset a few hours later when we were back at my house. Music blared from the speakers, and half of my graduating class tried to cram into my parent's four-bedroom house. Thankfully we had a big enough backyard for the overspill, or our house might have exploded from so many teens.

  “Callie!” I shouted over the music, holding my cup up. “I’m going to get something to drink.”

  Callie nodded as she danced with one of her crushes - of which she had many - and I headed toward the kitchen. I fought my way through the hoard of hormones until I got to the cooler of sodas. My parents were laid back enough to let me have a graduation party but not so much to let a bunch of minors drink alcohol on their property. That was just asking for trouble. I’d never been much into drinking in any case, and everyone seemed to be having fun without their brains being turned to chemical-filled mush.

  I popped the top of my soda and tilted my head back. The cool liquid coated my throat and stimulated my already sugar-high brain. Someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around, my soda can still
poised at my lips.

  When Jaron’s face came into view, I suddenly forgot how to swallow. Sputtering and hacking up soda, I slammed the can onto the counter. Jaron patted me on the back, helping me to get my lungs working again.

  “You okay?”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and nodded. “Yeah, sorry. You startled me.” I glanced down at my feet before looking back at him. “I thought you weren’t coming?”

  Jaron rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face. “Well almost dying kind of puts things into perspective. I didn’t want to leave with any bad feelings between us.”

  The reminder of how Jaron had almost died killed any sugar buzz I might have had. It was my fault he’d almost died. I’d done it, and he was here to make nice with me.

  “I’m sure it was terrifying,” I forced out, trying to seem sympathetic when really my pulse could put a fighter jet to shame.

  “Don’t let this guy fool you,” our classmate and Jaron’s best friend Bryan threw an arm around Jaron’s shoulders. “He was hardly fighting for his life. Maybe scorched a bit.”

  Jaron shook his head and shoved his friend away. “Don’t try to play it down. You weren’t the one on fire.” Bryan rolled his eyes and then headed back into the party, leaving us alone again. Jaron met my gaze again and frowned. “Don’t believe him. It was worse than you think. One minute I was standing there laughing with my friends and the next my robe is on fire, and I’m fighting for my life.” He scoffed. “Mrs. Abernathy had the gall to think I was smoking. Me!”

  I chuckled nervously. “Yeah, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Exactly!” Jaron gestured a hand toward me and shook his head once more. “I still don’t know how it happened. Some graduation prank maybe?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Everyone was a bit hyped up.” Unlike me, whose nerves were twisted so tight they could pop like a soda top.

  Something like gunfire sounded, making everyone in the room freeze. My shoulders were up around my ears as my eyes widened. I searched the room for the perpetrator, but no following shots were fired. Someone turned down the music, and my dad ran into the kitchen.

  “Is everyone okay?” he asked, his eyes wide. He found me and rushed to my side. “What happened?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. Jaron and I were just talking, and something sounded like it exploded.”

  “Hey! Not cool, man.”

  We all turned toward the guy talking. Eric something or another as he stood above the cooler.

  “What is it?” my dad asked, moving over to his side. He looked down into the cooler, and the frown on his face deepened.

  Not waiting for an explanation, I moved to my dad’s side. My eyes widened at what I saw. All the cans in the cooler had exploded. Their tops popped clean off, and soda spewed from them quickly beginning to fill up the cooler.

  Without a word, I raced out of the kitchen and bounded up the stairs. It happened again. I thought something, and it happened. There was no other explanation for it. It had to have been me again.

  I slammed my bedroom door behind me, my hands going to my hair. Tugging on the roots, I paced my room. There had to be a logical explanation. There had to be. I was switched at birth and am really some space alien with abilities beyond human understanding.

  Not helping.

  Unlike outside the convention center, I could go into Child’s pose. I’d already changed out of my dress into a pair of jeans and a tank top. No need to be prim and proper.

  I dropped to my knees and practically threw my head to the ground. Breath. Just breath. It would be alright. No one knew it was me. Hell, I didn’t even know it was me. As far as anyone knew it was just one freak accident after another ... that coincidentally happened when I was near.

  Screwed. I was so screwed.

  A knock on my door caused my head to pop up from the ground. My mom stuck her head around the door, concern pulling at her lips. “Honey, are you alright? Your dad said you bolted out of the kitchen in a hurry.”

  Sighing deeply, I sat back up. “No, mom. I’m not. There’s something I need to tell you.”

  My mom’s frown deepened, and she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Coming to sit beside me on the ground, she brushed my hair behind my ear. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

  I smiled slightly. “That’s just it. I’m not sure how to even tell you. Or if I’m just going crazy.”

  “I’m sure you’re not crazy.”

  I glanced over at her and raised a brow. “You say that now but wait until I tell you—”

  My bedroom door opened, and my dad stood in the doorway interrupting my admission. His eyes landed on my mom and me, and he quickly entered and closed the door once more. This time though, he locked it.

  Strange.

  “Don’t want any nosy bodies coming to investigate,” my dad explained with a goofy grin. He tucked his hands into his pockets and sat on the bed behind us. “So, what are we freaking about this week?”

  “Maxine was just about to tell me,” my mom told him, turning her expectant gaze back to me.

  Taking a deep breath, I decided to just go for it. “I think I might be a mutant. Or at least some kind of alien life form,” I spewed out all at once, making my words jumble together enough that I wasn’t quite sure they even understood me.

  For a moment, my mom and dad just stared at me, then they exchanged a look that I interpreted as they thought I was insane. What really nailed the head in the coffin was when they started laughing.

  I scowled and wrapped my arms around my waist. “It’s not funny. It’s true.” When they only laughed harder, I started to explain. “I caught Jaron’s robe on fire at graduation from just thinking it. And, just now, I was thinking how I was wound tight enough to pop the top off a can and what happens?” I paused for dramatic effect. “All the cans in the cooler break open! I’m telling you, I’m a freak of nature.”

  “Honey,” my mom chuckled and wiped a finger underneath her eye. “You’re not a freak.”

  I growled and twisted around to face her. “Then how do you explain everything that happened? I’m not making this crap up. I really did cause those things to happen.”

  My mom lifted her hands in front of her. “I’m not saying you didn’t. I believe you.” She glanced at my dad and then grabbed his hand in hers. “We both do.”

  “Right.” My dad nodded, no trace of humor left on his face.

  “Okay, so if you believe me then why were you laughing at me?” I wiped my hands on my jeans, my hands sweaty from my admission.

  Shaking her head, my mom smiled. “We weren’t laughing at you, Max. We were laughing because you think you’re some kind of alien.”

  “But how else do you explain ...?”

  “Now we aren’t saying aliens don’t exist,” my dad interrupted me. “God knows I’ve seen many things in my discoveries that point toward higher life forms, but we know for a fact you aren’t one of those.”

  “Then I’m a mutant of some kind.” I sighed and fell back onto the ground, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m going to be shipped off to some school for mutants where a bald guy in a wheelchair is going to help me control my powers, aren’t I?”

  “You’re not a mutant.” The audible sound of my mom’s sigh made me pick my head up slightly.

  “I’m not?”

  “No, you’re not.” Mom shook her head and held a hand out. She twisted her wrist in some kind of fancy maneuver, and four books from my bookshelf came floating toward her, landing in a neat pile in her hand.

  I gaped at her, sitting fully up once more. “What ... what? Hold the phone, you can do it too? You’re a mutant too?” My eyes widened as I realized my whole life was a lie.

  “We’re not mutants,” Mom growled, sending the books flying back to their spot on the bookshelf. “You’re not an alien, a space being, or anything else you’ve read about in your science fiction books. You’re a witch, Max. A witch. Just
like me.”

  I blinked once and pointed a finger at myself. “I’m a witch.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re a witch.” I pointed the finger at her.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Are you a witch?” I asked my dad, who shook his head.

  “Nope. Just an ordinary guy who fell in love with an extraordinary girl.” He leaned forward to wrap an arm around my mom, and they exchanged a lovey-dovey look.

  “Okay.” I swallowed hard and moved my head up and down. “I can get behind this. I’m a witch. Okay, cool. So, can I do whatever I want then? Like, change my hair purple or teleport?”

  Mom laughed. “No, not anything. You need to learn to control your powers before you can think about teleportation. Even then it’s very tricky magic. And as far as coloring your hair purple, I wouldn’t advise it. Beauty magic can be pretty complicated and, in some cases, permanent.”

  “So, how do I learn how to control it? Will you teach me?” I inched closer to her excitement taking over. Mom opened her mouth to answer, but I didn’t let her get a word in edgewise. “Can we fly on brooms? Do we have to dance naked under the full moon? What about warts? I’m not going to get any of those, am I? Because I’m already struggling with acne. Though, I guess I could magic them away in any case—”

  “Maxine!” my mom shouted my name cutting my round of questions off.

  I ducked my head and gave an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

  Letting out a deep breath, my mom shook her head. “I understand you’re excited, but there are things you need to understand. Things you need to learn, and you can’t learn those from me. Most of all ...” She paused and exchanged a look with my dad. “You have a decision to make. One that will change your life forever.”

  “Okay ...?” I drew out glancing between the two. “What is it?”

  My mom leveled me with a serious look, the humor gone from her face. “Do you want to be a witch?”

  “Uh ... is this a trick question?” My brows furrowed in confusion, my eyes darting from my dad to my mom as if one of them would say ‘Gotcha!’ at any moment. But neither of them did. “I’m not sure how to answer this. I mean, one part of me wants to jump up and down and scream that, of course, I want to be a witch, but the other half wants to know ... what’s the catch?”