Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1) (9 page)

Giara
was all too happy to talk to me when I called her the next day. Maybe too happy
for a Grandmother who had just threatened me with my sweet sister’s lost shoe.

I
told her I was in a crisis, and I needed someone to be my mom to meet Joe’s
mom. Might as well have her talk to Ms. P. while we were at it, and kill two
birds with one Rune, or whatever. Either way, she was willing to come out to
help me.

The
whole day, through second period and all through lunch, Joe and I passed notes
and talked in whispers, refining our plan. My friends looked at us weird, but
again Joe didn’t care, so why should I?

Giara’s
plane landed at three, and she would be up here around four. We planned to meet
with Ms. P. later at the restaurant my parents used to own. There the moms
could talk to us about how to date without throwing away our futures. During
which time, Joe would trade Giara’s notebook with a lookalike we bought on the
way to school. Giara’s notebook was sleek black leather, and the look-alike
cost a week’s worth of groceries. Hopefully it’d be worth it. After Joe swapped
notebooks, he’d duck out and copy as many runes as he could, while I got the
bulk of the maternal warnings. Then he’d return the real notebook and swap out
the fake.

With
a plan that simple, how could we fail?

Giara
ran late and arrived at my house at four fourteen. She knocked on the door, and
then opened it as if she owned the place. I followed behind her as she walked
into my parent’s bedroom to borrow one of my mom’s outfits. My parent’s room
was still chaotic and dusty. I forgot to clean up before she came, I was so
nervous.

I
stood outside my parent’s room with a Grandmother inside. My heel started
tapping against the carpet, and I took a deep breath and forced my body to be
still.

Giara
opened the door, and my mom walked out. Giara is a genius with
transformation
runes. Her eyes looked just like mine, but had that same tired overcast shadow
my mom always had. There was a chicken pox scar in exactly the right spot on
her forehead. The short curly style my mom always liked, even when better
trends came and went, seemed less embarrassing than before. I had forgotten how
beautiful my mom was. I was starting to forget what she looked like. In my
mom’s clothes, Giara even smelled like my mom.

My
breath caught in my throat. This wasn’t a good idea, but even if it failed, it
was worth it so I could see my mom again. Giara looked at my mom’s watch and in
my mom’s voice she said, “We’re going to be late, Larissa.”

I
nodded, not trusting my voice enough to speak, and I followed her down the
stairs and out the door. Giara drove the car, waving to almost everyone we saw,
proving, I guess, to them that my mom was still alive.

We
walked into Javier’s a little late. Joe and his mom were already there, sitting
in the corner booth I took naps in when I was a toddler. They rested their arms
on the tables I had colored on when I was in kindergarten and did my homework
on almost every night as I ate chips and salsa after school. The wait staff
cheered when we walked in. Stan, the new owner, came up to my ‘mom’ and me and
shook our hands. Stan used to dress up as Santa Claus for me every Christmas
until I was thirteen. Some of these people I have known forever. It was a
mistake coming here. They spoke to me in a mixture of Spanish and English,
Giara nodded as if she understood but looked to me to translate.

“Me
alegro de verte,” Good to see you, I said walking through the group of people
who had once been like family to me but that I hadn’t spoken to in almost a
year. Ms. P. stood when we reached the table and held her hand out. Joe looked
at me with an excited smile on his face, but I couldn’t return his smile. I
didn’t have it in me.

They
sat us down on the same side of the booth, Giara and Ms. P. taking the other
side. Joe sat on the open edge of the booth, Giara sat on the other, her purse
on the floor next to her. I assumed the notebook was in her purse.

I
looked over at Joe. I must have looked scared or something, because Joe leaned
over and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, Riz. We got this.” He put his hand
on my knee, to stop it from shaking up and down.

I
took a deep breath and then, together, we turned to face our mothers.

Giara
started, “I was afraid this would happen ever since the divorce went final.”

I
looked down at the table. Ms. P. spoke, “She didn’t tell me you were divorced.”

“Doesn’t
surprise me. She’s been going through a rebellious stage.” Giara took a long
drink of water, then continued, “It’s been hard on her. She misses her father
and her little sister who are living in California. Plus with my new job, I’ve
been traveling and working late hours, so she’s been on her own more than is
probably good for her.”

“Hello,
I’m right here,” I said to everyone’s surprise, including my own. I just hated
when adults talked about you like you weren’t there.

“Yes,
Larissa, I see you.” Giara said in my mother’s voice. She turned back to Ms. P.
“I think the first rule should be that Joe absolutely cannot be at my house
when I’m not there.”

“Absolutely,”
Ms. P. said.

“Fine,”
Joe said looking at Giara and not at his mother. “I promise I will never be at
your house when you are not there.”

I
bit my lip to keep from smiling. Giara looked back directly at Joe and winked
so that Ms. P. didn’t see. I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“And
anyway,” Joe continued, “none of this matters. Larissa and I are just friends.”

Ms.
P. started in, “And absolutely no lying in bed together.”

“Larissa,”
Giara said, shocked. “You know better than to do that.”

I
put my head down on the table. Joe stood up.

“You
know, whatever you guys decide about my life, I’ll do. This is ridiculous.” He
reached down to the ground to pick up his coat. “I’m going outside.”

He
stormed out of the restaurant. When he got to the front door, he turned and
pushed the door open with his back. He smiled at me, pulling the corner of Giara’s
notebook out of his crumpled up coat.

The
two women carried on, and I tuned them out as best as I could. I just sat there
eating chips dipped in that familiar salsa, occasionally glancing outside to
see how Joe was getting on.

It
was nice though, to see my mother’s face again, saying the things my mom would
have said if she were there. As I watched them talk, their words started to
sink in. I realized my mom wouldn’t have liked what I’d done, what I’d wanted
to do. They were right. I should be smarter. The only thing that really stood
between a life-altering mistake and me was the fact that Joe didn’t like me.

“You
know what,” I said, interrupting Ms. P. saying something about curfews, “you’re
right. I’ve been stupid. I need to set a line for myself.”

I
looked at Giara and my mom’s face looked back at me.

“Mom,”
I said, and then because my voice cracked when I said that name I haven’t said
in too long, I started again. “Mom, I promise I won’t do anything dumb.”

Giara
reached forward and took my hand in her own. There was silence at the table, as
tears ran down my face.

“That’s
good enough for me,” she said.

Ms.
P. smiled at me; tears were in her eyes but none fell. “That’s good enough for
me too.”

We
smiled at each other; I laughed a strange explosive crying laugh, and I wiped
my face. The bell on the door rang when Joe walked back inside the restaurant.
He dropped his coat next to Giara’s purse, and then sat at the table.

“When
did the food get here?” he said as he reached for a chip.

I
shook my head and laughed.

Overall,
it was a pleasant criminal experience. Giara and Ms. P. seemed to like each
other as allies in the war against teenage promiscuity. Joe and I relaxed in
the vinyl booth. We made wise and witty comments as we ate the food that felt
like home. I should have gone back there more. That restaurant stood as a
living reminder that my family had existed.

We
left, and Giara gave Ms. P. a hug. She said they would talk later, and then we
walked together through the biting chill to the Toyota. When we got inside,
Giara turned to me.

“You
tried to steal my notebook,” she said.

I
looked at the road in front of me, and glanced over to where Joe was opening
the car door for his mother.

“I…um…the
word I’d use is borrow,” I said.

“You
really thought I wouldn’t put protections on my own notebook?” she said. “How
dumb do you think I am? About as dumb as you are apparently.”

That
last sentence she mumbled as if she didn’t mean for me to hear it. I put my
hand against my hairline and looked away. My knee started jumping up and down
again. Giara took a deep breath.

“You
really don’t want me as your enemy,” she warned.

“I
only know ten runes, Giara. Ten. My mom’s notebook had ten runes on a page.”
Giara looked away and started the car. “Do you know where my mom’s notebook is
now, Giara?”

Giara
wouldn’t look at me. “No, I don’t.” She faced me, and we both knew she was
lying.

“What
am I supposed to do without it?” I looked down at my hands. My legs,
surprisingly, were still. “I’m useless. I can’t do anything helpful…” I
breathed out. “Meaningful.”

Giara
was silent for a moment. Finally she spoke. “You could have asked.”

“And
you would have taught me?” I asked incredulously.

I
had thought stealing the notebook would be my only option, but maybe I should
have just asked her for help. I’d viewed the Grandmothers as my enemies since
my family died, but maybe there was another option. My mom’s voice reminded me
that there was always a choice, if I took the time to look for one.

Giara
looked me over, as if judging my worth. I sat up taller in my seat.

“Why
not?” she said, turning back to the road.

“Teach
me,” I said. “Please Giara. Anything at all.”

“Anything?
Oh, I could teach you everything,” she said with a smile. “But first, tell me
something.”

My
stomach muscles clenched.

“This
boy, this Instinct of yours.”

I
swallowed.

“Can
he do runes?” she asked.

I
sat back in the seat in silence. They didn’t know. The Grandmothers suspected,
but they didn’t know Joe could do runes, not for sure. Maybe they weren’t my
enemy, but they were Joe’s. My heart pounded, and I didn’t know what to do,
what to say. I couldn’t lie to her, could I?

“Joe’s
a good person,” I said. “He’s obnoxious sometimes, but he… he’s used his magic
to save regular peoples’ lives. He has gotten up early and walked through snow
to shovel my sidewalk. He’s the best person I know. I… I love him. However, I
promise you if he ever uses a rune, I will tell you. Just don’t hurt him.”

I
looked over at Giara. My mother’s face smiled at me like that was what she
wanted all along, and I realized what I said.

I
just promised to be the Grandmothers’ spy.

She
pulled the car into my driveway, and then held her hand up to shake mine.
Reluctantly I raised my hand, and she wrote a rune on the back of my palm. My
own color code, a light purple, and hers, a dark green, twisted together into a
braided rope of runelight that circled my wrist and ended at the rune, tying
our hands together in a binding of light.

“Do
you have your notebook?” she asked as the runelight nestled into the skin on my
right hand and then sank in, binding me to fulfill my promise to betray Joe.

It’s
funny, sometimes you want something so much, that when you get it, you just
feel empty. That’s how I felt. Empty. Eerily calm. Different, really, as I sat
on my front steps with my notebook in my lap. One hundred and thirty seven. A
hundred and thirty seven runes.

That
was the cost of selling out the one person I’d ever loved. And I did love him,
line in the sand or not. My only hope, really, of liking myself when I died was
that Joe wouldn’t ever use a rune again.

And
you’ve probably figured out by now that wasn’t how it happened.

I
waited on my front steps for Joe to show up. It was cold, freezing actually, but
I didn’t care that Giara had taught me a rune to stay warm. I didn’t have a
single rune on. I wasn’t thin. My hair felt flat around my face, and I had acne
on my skin.

Didn’t
care.

Joe
didn’t notice anyway. About a half hour after Giara left, he walked up my
driveway with a gigantic smile on his face. He fanned the imitation notebook in
front of his face, and when he reached me, he picked me up and spun me. “We did
it.”

“Can
I see it?” I asked.

Joe
handed it to me as if it was a trophy. The runes inside were wrong, lines drawn
backwards, dots where slashes should be. I wrote the rune for
fire
on
the top, and the notebook burst into a cloud of flames. I tossed it down on the
snow, and it melted some of the snow until there was a hollow spot where the
grass showed through.

“What
are you doing!” Joe yelled.

I
stood and walked up the stairs. I turned when I reached the doorknob.

“Are
you an Instinct or a Rune, Joe?” I said. “You don’t get to be both. You don’t
have any right looking at runes. And if you learn any more, it’s just gonna get
us both killed.”

I
opened the door and took a step inside it.

“Good
girl,” Joe said. I froze. “But next time don’t push him so far away, you need
to be close enough you can still see what he’s doing.”

I
stood in the doorway with my eyes closed.

“Have
a good trip, Giara.” I said and then turned once to get a look at her handy
work.

She
got it all right. Joe’s black earrings, his deep v neck tee shirt and green
jacket, his amazing smile.

“I’ll
be in touch.” She said in his voice.

I
locked my front door from the inside, and banged the back of my head once
against the wood. The cold from outside followed me in.

I
walked to the kitchen to grab the phone, and I dialed Joe’s number while I
glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was only eight forty five, so it
wasn’t too late to call.

Ms.
P. answered. She got Joe for me with a warning that it was getting late. I
could hear Joe’s breath crinkle through the receiver.

“Hey,”
he said, and then I heard the sound of a door closing. “So, that was easier
than I thought it would be. And I know full well how awesome I am, so that
really says something.”

“Giara
knew,” I said.

“What?”

I
sighed into the phone, “She had a version of the
protection
rune on her
notebook, so all those runes you copied are wrong.”

Joe
swore, “I’m gonna need a new notebook.”

“For
what?” I said. “Joe, you are an Instinct. The more runes you know, the more
danger you are putting yourself in. Oh, and me too, by the way.”

“Are
you okay?” Joe asked. I didn’t know how to answer that. “How much trouble are
we in?”

The
weight of the consequences of stealing the notebook seemed to catch up with
him, his voice sounded stressed.

“We’re
fine, Joe.” I took a deep breath. “Giara was pretty cool about it. You know, if
she wasn’t making plans to kill you, I think we would be friends.”

It
was true. I didn’t trust her, and every impulse in my body wanted to run away
from her. But when I thought about it, I always had the impulse to protect her,
to find a reason for her actions and justify them.

Joe
laughed, bringing me back to the present. He so thought he was indestructible.

“Yeah,
she seemed cool,” he said. “It wasn’t that bad today, not as bad as we thought.
It was cool actually to see your mom. She was beautiful, Riz.”

Tears
came to my eyes, but I smiled, “Yeah, she really was.”

The
silence that fell between us was as comforting as a hug.

I
spoke first. “It’s been a long day, Joe. I’m going to bed. Don’t come over.” He
started to say something, but I interrupted him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright,
I’ll see you then,” Joe said, and then he hung up.

I
held the phone against my ear for a few seconds longer, listening to the dial
tone.

Giara
would be proud.