DoubleDown V (15 page)

Silence settled between them but somehow less awkwardly this time. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on Karen’s part. Finally she asked, “Want to watch a movie?”

“Sure, I haven’t watched a film in a while. What kind of videos do you have?”

“I have Netflix,” she said, flipping on the TV and pulling up the Netflix page. “What are you in the mood for? Scary, funny, sad, romantic?”

“Romantic.”

Karen smiled and felt the blush rising in her cheeks. “Me too.”

*  *  *

Halfway through the movie, Karen came down off the bed and stretched out on her stomach on the floor next to Bobby. He seemed entranced by the film, which was some Nicolas Sparks sap-fest. More than once she caught herself staring at his face instead of the screen, then looked away before he noticed her scrutiny. She wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek or hold his hand, but she couldn’t work up the nerve.

She had to admit that she definitely had a crush on this strange young man. Of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way, but in the past all her crushes had been from afar, on boys that she had no real contact with. But Bobby was close, and she suspected that he liked her too...but how could she be sure?  She had little experience in these matters. Perhaps the smartest thing would be to play it cool and let Bobby make the first move.

When the movie was over, she turned off the TV and rolled onto her side, facing Bobby, her elbow on the floor and her head propped on her hand. She felt silly, like she was trying to play the part of seductress, and finally just pushed up and sat cross-legged. “Did you like it?” she asked.

“Yes, it was very good. Very emotional.”

“You didn’t say much during.”

“Sorry, guess I just got caught up in the story.”

“Well, what do you want to do now?”

“It’s getting pretty late.”

“It’s just 9:30. I doubt Brittany will be back anytime soon.”

“No, I mean...I should probably be getting home.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, my mom. She won’t like it if I’m out too late.”

“I understand,” Karen said, but she wasn’t sure she did. What kind of freak was Bobby’s mother to keep him so sheltered? Karen was surprised the woman let her son attend college at all.

“I had a really nice time, though,” Bobby said, rising from the floor. “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

Karen got to her feet. “Definitely. In fact, I’m free this Sunday if you wanted to hang out.”

“That might be nice.”

“I was planning a walk along the Swamp Rabbit Trail. You could join me.”

“How about we meet around noon at your place by the lake?”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay, see you then. I really have to go now though. My mother is waiting for me.”

Karen walked to the door and opened it for Bobby. “Want me to walk down with you?”

“No, I can find my way. Thanks for spending the evening with me, though. It’s the most fun I’ve had since...well, in a long time.”

Karen smiled at Bobby. He smiled back, and she felt an almost electric tingling running up and down her spine. As she looked into Bobby’s eyes, she felt daring and rose onto the tips of her toes and leaned in, meaning to kiss him....

But Bobby sidestepped quickly, his smile faltering. “Uh, we can’t do this.”

 “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Karen said, wishing she could just melt into the floor like the Wicked Witch of the West. “That was presumptuous of me. I’m so embarrassed I could just die.”

“No, you don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s just that...you see, I do like you, Karen. I want to spend time with you, but we can’t...the thing is, I’m not like other guys.”

“I see,” Karen said, thinking,
Brittany was right. I guess I should have known considering how much he seemed to like Nicolas Sparks.

“Please, I don’t want you to think this has anything to do with you.”

“I understand, really I do. And it isn’t a problem for me. You’re a cool guy, and I’m perfectly content to just be friends.”

Bobby smiled again, his relief and gratitude palpable. “I’m so glad to hear that. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Karen shut the door behind him, then leaned against it. She’d said she was content to just be friends, and she hadn’t been lying, but there was no denying her disappointment. She’d actually allowed herself to entertain the notion that maybe her life was finally going to have a little romance in it, and instead she’d ended up with a platonic gay friend.

Still, she could really use a friend right now, and she sensed in Bobby a gentle soul who would never hurt her.

*  *  *

Bobby stood outside the dorm, staring at it. Tonight had been magickal. He knew for most people that would sound silly, considering that all he and Karen had done was talk a little and watch a tearjerker, but for him....

It had been a long time since Bobby had connected with someone, had spent time with anyone other than his mother. Not since New Orleans. The prospect of having a real friend, someone to confide in, someone to trust, someone who saw him and accepted him...it was overwhelming.

And Karen was a lovely person, a pure soul. A rare and special woman, and Bobby hated that he had to deceive her.

“Bobby, are you coming?”

Bobby turned to see Penelope step out of the shadows of the magnolia tree. Her expression was hard and cold, then she smiled. It too looked hard and cold. “How did it go?”

“I had a nice time,” he said, staring at the ground.

“And are you two going to get together again?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re going for a walk Sunday afternoon.”

“Good boy. Now you need to play this very careful. We need to make sure Karen develops feelings for you.”

“Well, she....”

“What? Don’t keep anything from me, Bobby.”

“She tried to kiss me when I was leaving.”

Penelope’s smile widened, finally seeming genuine though no less frightening. “Perfect. Even better than I had hoped. Just don’t blow it. I need her to depend on you, to get to the point where she’d do anything for you.”

“She’s a nice girl,” Bobby said. “I don’t feel right about this.”

“I don’t care what you feel!” Penelope advanced on Bobby. She took a few breaths and composed herself. “We need her power. Do you think another opportunity like this is just going to fall into our laps?”

“No, I just feel strange about manipulating her this way.”

“Look, we’re just doing what we have to do. And it’s not like we’re going to hurt her or anything. If we play our cards right, she’ll
want
to help us.”

“But don’t you think—”

“That’s enough discussion for now, Bobby. We can continue this at home. Now come along.”

Penelope started across the quad. Bobby lingered for a moment, glancing toward Poteat, then followed Penelope. “Coming, Mother.”

“I can’t do it,” Karen said, staring across the desk at the librarian. They were in Penelope’s office, the door shut and locked.

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You’re doing great. You’ve already made impressive strides at shielding your thoughts from me. Remember, this isn’t a timed exam. Just relax and try to focus.”

Penelope tapped her fingers by the stapler on the desktop. Karen turned her gaze back to the stapler, breathing deeply through her nostrils and squinting her eyes.

“Understand,” Penelope said, “when I say to ‘focus,’ I don’t mean just with your eyes. Focus with your mind, with your energy. Do you know what I mean?”

“I don’t know. I sort of get it, but then I sort of don’t.”

Leaning back in her chair, the librarian scrutinized Karen for a moment, then said, “You haven’t told me anything about your date last night.”

Karen blinked and shook her head, trying to deal with the mental whiplash from such an abrupt subject change. “Well, first of all, it wasn’t a date, and second, there’s not really much to tell.”

“But he showed up, right?”

“He did.”

“And...?”

“And he’s very nice, we talked, watched a movie, and then he left.”

“But no sparks?”

“No. At least...well, not on his end. I don’t think I’m the right gender for him.”

“Ouch, that must have been humiliating for you.”

Karen dropped her eyes to her hands, folded in her lap, feeling her entire body tense. “Not at all. We’re friends, and that’s fine with me.”

“Well, that’s good then. Not like you threw yourself at him and made a fool of yourself or anything.”

If possible, Karen’s posture became even more rigid, as if she were suffering from
encephalitis lethargica
, which she’d learned about in Psych. She felt shame rising in her like mercury in a thermometer on an August day, causing her body to vibrate.

“Move the stapler,” Penelope said harshly.

Karen’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The stapler, move it. NOW!”

Karen looked at the stapler and released in a torrent all the tension and shame that had been building up. The stapler began to shake, then slid along the desk and fell off the side, landing on the floor with a clatter.

All rigidity left Karen’s body, and she slumped in her chair, breathing heavily and feeling sweat trickling down her temples. Smiling, Penelope bent over, picked up the stapler, and placed it on the desk. “Well, there you go.”

“That doesn’t count,” Karen said.

“And why not?”

“You got me upset. I already told you things start moving when I get upset.”

“Yes, but you said that you have no control, that everything around you just starts shaking and flying. This was different. This time you focused on a specific object and made it move. There’s a word for that—
progress
.”

Karen glanced at the stapler, this time with new appreciation. “I guess you’re right. Does that mean I’ll always have to be upset for this to work?”

“Not at all. Tell me, have you ever meditated?”

“You mean like yogis?”

“Not dissimilar. Through practiced meditation, one can hone the mind like sharpening a blade with a whetstone. With higher levels of concentration, you’ll find that you can not only increase your power but control it to a much greater degree. And other talents may emerge.”

This got Karen’s attention. She leaned forward hungrily. “Such as?”

“Levitation, for instance.”

“Get out of here. You can levitate?”

“I’m not saying I can soar up into the air like the Flying Nun.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Just know that I’m not talking about flying, but if I can concentrate hard enough, I have been known to hover a few inches off the ground.”

“That’s incredible. Can you teach me that, too?”

Penelope laughed. “You’ve got a real thirst for knowledge. That’s regrettably rare in college students these days.”

“Does that mean you’re going to sate that thirst?”

“Consider me your Mr. Miyagi. You do know
The Karate Kid
, don’t you?”

“Sure. Jackie Chan, Will Smith’s kid.”

Penelope shook her head and laughed again. “A baby, you’re just a baby. Now you better run along or you’ll be late for class.”

“I could skip it.”

“No, I don’t want the education I’m giving you to interfere with the one you’re getting here at Furman. But I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you come by my house Saturday night. We’ll have an initiation of sorts.”

“So what, are we forming our own little coven?” Karen asked with a smile.

Penelope grimaced as if experiencing severe cramps. “Let’s not call it that. I’m done with covens.”

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.”

“It’s okay, really, it’s just...well, I used to be a member of a local coven. It didn’t work out.”

“What happened? Or maybe it’s none of my business.”

“No, I don’t mind talking about it. I just saw things differently than the rest of the coven. They seemed more like children playing make-believe in the backyard. They didn’t truly grasp the potential of the power at our disposal. Or maybe they did grasp it and were just afraid to wield it. In any case, I wanted to explore the Earth Religion more in depth than the coven, so we had a parting of the ways.”

“Oh. Are there a lot of covens in the area?”

Penelope shrugged. “A few. You could probably find more information online if you think a coven would suit you better.”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m not one for groups. I want to learn everything, and I feel like you’re the one to teach me.”

“Glad to hear it, because I think your potential is limitless.” Penelope scribbled onto a Post-it and handed it to Karen. “This is my address. Come by Saturday night around eight, if that suits you.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Then I’ll see you Saturday. In the meantime, try to think of a name.”

Karen frowned. “What?”

“It’s traditional to pick an alternate name, a ‘witch name,’ as some call it.”

“What is yours?”

“Morgane Aster. Morgane after sorceress Morgane le Fey from the King Arthur legend, and Aster after the flower, which is a symbol of strength.”

“Good name. Maybe you could pick one for me.”

Penelope shook her head, her expression serious. “Can’t do it. Every witch has to pick her own name. Them’s the rules.”