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  Across the street was a well-lit plaza with bronze statues. Beyond that I could see a crystal shop. That might be a good place to check out. Perhaps Marsha and I could walk there after dinner.

  “Harry Bernstein?” Marsha asked, sliding into the seat across from me. I chuckled.

  “My new alter ego,” I replied. “Maybe I’ll take it up permanently.

  She snorted and shook her head. “This place looks pretty awesome.” She gazed around the restaurant, and I followed her glance, taking in the gold colored walls and arched windows between the different dining areas. Spanish artifacts hung on the walls, along with metal sculptures. Waiters and waitresses bustled about carrying large platters of food. “It smells great,” she said. “I hope it tastes the same too.”

  She waited until our waitress brought drinks and took our order before zeroing in on me. “Okay, spill it. What happened today? I couldn’t reach you and I checked the machine before I left. There was a message from the school reminding me that I needed to check you out at the office if you were going to leave early.”

  Sighing, I lifted my fork, staring at it while twirling it between my fingers. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to explain to her what happened or not. I kind of wanted to keep things to myself for a while and test my connection with Portia again.

  I decided to stick to the old story for the moment. “Nothing—only more of the same. I’m the new kid. Guys seem to instantly find me a threat. Girls parade themselves in front of me. Teachers immediately label me a troublemaker because of how I look, and I can’t change anyone’s opinion about me because I don’t have the luxury of friends.”

  She reached across the table and placed her hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Vance. You’re right. Everyone should get the chance to know you better, not for your sake though, but for theirs. You’re a great kid. I hate that everything is so rough for you. It’s precisely why I chose to do this, though. I’m hoping we will be able to find more stability here, because we have more people on our side. It makes us stronger and gives us a connection to someone who is not only knowledgeable in magic, but has the resources to track the movements of your father and let us know how close he is to finding us. Please, trust me. I’ve thought long and hard over this decision to involve others.”

  “I do trust you—always have. If I didn’t, I would’ve left a long time ago.”

  She grinned. “And gone where?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I could survive on my own.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind about that, but a teen running around on his own would certainly raise suspicion. Not to mention the fact that you need to finish school. I don’t want you throwing your life away because you didn’t get an education.”

  Lowering my voice, I replied, “Are you forgetting I’m a warlock? Magic could fix all of that.”

  “Yes, and create an even bigger trail for your father to follow.”

  I was tired of this conversation. We’d discussed these things a billion times, it seemed. “There’s a crystal shop across the street, there.” I tilted my head. “Want to go check it out after dinner?”

  “Nice diversion.” She removed her hand and sat back, giving me a wink. “Yes, I’d love to go check them out. We need to refurbish most of our herbs and supplies since we left everything behind. There are several clothing stores around too; but if you can’t find what you want, we can go back to the mall in Flagstaff, if you’d like.”

  “I’m sure whatever’s here will be fine. I’m not that picky.”

  “So, what do you plan to do for extracurricular activities? You said it’s not fair for you to play sports, but I don’t want you to mope around, either.”

  “I’d get a job if you’d let me.”

  Marsha shook her head emphatically. “Too easy to trace. You’re welcome to do odd jobs, where people pay you cash; but I don’t want a legal trail that can be followed. Isn’t there something you can participate in at school?”

  “I have an auto shop class again.”

  She sighed. “What else can you possibly do to that motorcycle of yours? It couldn’t be any nicer than if you just drove it off the showroom floor.”

  I chuckled. “I have to keep it running in top notch shape. Maybe I’ll build another one.”

  “Why? It’s not like you can ride two. You don’t even need two.”

  “Maybe I could sell it.”

  “Hmmm. That might be an idea. Definitely something to consider.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll think on it,” I replied.

  The waitress interrupted, bringing our drinks, chips, and salsa to the table. My stomach rumbled loudly at the sight and Marsha laughed.

  “You’re really are hungry, aren’t you?”

  “I told you I was. Only had an apple today, and I skipped breakfast too.”

  “Where did you go for all those hours?”

  “Up the canyon. I found a really nice place where I could sit and stare out at the valley below. It kind of helped me to clear my head. Unfortunately, cell reception wasn’t the greatest. I didn’t get your messages until I hit the service area on my way back.”

  “I was hoping it was something like that, or that your phone died. I was really worried. This isn’t going to help your reputation at all with the school, you know. Ditching on your very first day there doesn’t look too good.”

  “Oh well.” I dipped a chip into the salsa and popped it into my mouth.

  “I’ll write you a note this time, Vance, but I need you to work with me on this. Ditching is not acceptable. I need to know where you are all the time; so I know you’re safe.”

  “Got it. Stay in school, be bored, no ditching. Anything else?” I grabbed another chip.

  She laughed. “Yes, Harry. No sassy mouth, either!”

  “You’re pushing it,” I replied, grinning back.

  Chapter Four

  Journal Entry:

  This is the day I’ll test my reaction to seeing Portia again. I’m a little nervous. What if nothing happens? What if it does? Should I tell anyone about it? It’s not a normal connection. I researched it online last night; floating through some links we have from different covens, trying to find out any information. Apparently, there are some other cases, and they all involve people who became each other’s mate. Ha, ha! What a joke! I can’t even manage to keep a girl long enough for her to be called my “girlfriend”. There’s no way I could handle a mate. The only thing I see that’s different with the stories I found online, is both partners could hear each other. Portia can’t seem to hear me, though. I wonder if that’ll change once she comes into her powers?

  ***

  It was after lunch and I felt her before I saw her this time; the jumble of her emotions washed over me. She was running late and in a hurry to get to class. Searching around quickly, I spotted her coming through the main door. Grabbing the strap to her backpack, she shifted it higher on her shoulder and started walking faster.

  “Ouch! Watch where you’re going!” Another student seethed when she accidentally hit him with her backpack. Her face flooded with color.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She stopped, apologizing sincerely. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Whatever, dork,” the guy grumbled, continuing on his way.

  Hurt washed through her and I had to resist the urge to run after the guy. He could stand to learn a few manners.

  Portia glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed the encounter. She quickly caught me staring. I turned away nonchalantly, hoping it would appear as if I hadn’t seen anything or didn’t care.

  Her thoughts immediately changed as she continued on her way. There’s the new guy, again. What did Shelly say his name was? Van? Vance! That was it. He’s so hot. Love the leather jacket. Ugh! I’ve got to stop.

  No, you don’t, I thought as I continued down the hallway behind her. I like hearing what you have to say. I suddenly wondered if she could hear or feel me too. That’s something I should probably try to find
out, immediately. It would be bad if she could and suddenly started freaking out because she didn’t know what was going on.

  “Portia,” I called to her forcefully through the mental link, but she didn’t even break her stride. Guess that answered my question.

  Ironically, she entered the same classroom I was headed to. I chuckled to myself. If I’d only gone to class after lunch yesterday, I could’ve experimented to my heart’s content. Oh, well. Live and learn. I could play with my new toy today. This might be fun. Guys always wished they knew what girls were thinking. Here was my chance to find out.

  Entering the classroom, I saw her near the front of the room. Sean’s warning flashed through my head, so I chose the seat furthest away from her, back in the far corner of the room. Settling in, I dropped my notebook and pencil on the desktop. Since I’d ditched yesterday, I hadn’t met the teacher; but, according to my schedule, his name was Mr. Ben Spacey. That alone was enough to make me question his knowledge, in addition to pondering if his parents hated him. This was an Honors English class with students from multiple grades. I generally tested high overall, but often wondered if it was because I was truly smart, or if magic made learning and studying easier for me. Recalling things I’d read with perfect clarity was something I’d always been able to do. I assumed it was the same with any witch or warlock.

  The room filled quickly and I noticed the eyes of many glancing in my direction. Judgment had always been an easy thing for me to read and even though I couldn’t hear their thoughts, it was obvious they were thinking, “What’s he doing in this class?” Maybe they’d never heard the phrase, “don’t judge a book by its cover.”

  Frustration washed through me, causing me to be even more irritated. I should be used to it by now. Grabbing my pencil, I began flicking it back and forth, bouncing the eraser up and down against my notebook. This caused a few people to cast annoyed glances in my direction. Portia was one of them.

  Her dark eyes widened briefly. I didn’t break my stare away from her this time, watching the flush quickly spread over her pale skin before she quickly turned around, leaving me to gaze at the silky black hair cascading down her back. She really was a naturally beautiful girl; but either she didn’t know it or she chose not to flaunt it.

  “You’re hot, you know that?” I mentally spoke, throwing my thoughts in her direction, watching carefully to see if there was a reaction. Nothing. “Do I make you nervous, baby?” Again, nothing. “If you can hear me, turn around and glance at the door.” I figured there was a better chance of getting her to look away from me than at me.

  There wasn’t even a blip of movement from her. She didn’t stiffen or seem scared at all. She remained completely relaxed. Well, at least as relaxed as she had been before. There were a million thoughts running through her head about how I made it into an Honors English class. Hmmm. Maybe she was as snotty as the rest of them. One thing was clear, though. Either she was a very impressive actress, or she couldn’t hear me. I was pretty sure it was the latter.

  A short, bald man with a shiny head entered the room. He was wearing a buttoned-to-the-collar white shirt, dark pants, and was carrying a cup of coffee. He headed immediately to his desk and sat down before surveying the room.

  Gaze narrowing, he stared at me, then down at a paper on his desk. “Are you Mr. Mangum?” he asked curtly.

  “Vance, yes,” I replied, as all the heads in the room bobbed back and forth between us like they were watching a volleyball game.

  “This paper says you were to report to my class yesterday; but you weren’t here. Care to explain that?”

  Digging into my pocket, I replied, “I have a signed excuse for you, Mr. Spacey.” I couldn’t seem to resist the opportunity to use his name. There was an audible gasp from the rest of the class and I lifted my head to glance around warily, wondering what had happened.

  Oh, he’s done it now. Portia’s thought zipped through my head, but she turned away when I glanced in her direction.

  I slowly stood and made my way toward the teacher’s desk with my note. It seemed as if everyone in the class was holding their breath and I watched Mr. Spacey’s face get redder as I approached.

  “Normally, I’d give you detention for that remark, Mr. Mangum; but since you’re new I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what remark you’re referring to.” I had no clue what he was talking about.

  “My name is pronounced Spah-say.”

  I struggled not to burst out laughing—a part of me seriously doubting this was true. “Oh, I see. So are you like French or something?”

  Random giggles broke out behind me, but they were immediately silenced by a stern look from Mr. “Spah-say.”

  “My nationality is none of your concern,” he said with a sniff and a condescending glance. “All you need to worry about is the fact that I’m your teacher and I’m here to guide you to a higher level of learning.”

  “Got it,” I replied.

  He frowned at me. “Why are you still standing here? Return to your seat.”

  “You still need to sign my note and give it back to me. I need it for my next class.” I pointed to the pink piece of paper I’d laid on his desk.

  He sighed heavily. Grabbing a pen from his pocket, he initialed the slip and handed it back. “There you go. Now open your books, please.”

  “Uh, I don’t have any books. You haven’t given them to me yet.”

  His jaw clenched as he stood and went to the shelves behind him, pulling two textbooks off and bringing them to me. “These have to be returned in pristine condition at the end of the year or you will be charged for them.”

  I placed my hands on them like I was being sworn in with a bible. “I wouldn’t dream of defacing them.” More snickers could be heard through the room as I returned to my seat.

  “You’ll have to try and catch up on your own, Mr. Mangum. I’m afraid the rest of the class is far ahead of you, and I certainly don’t have the time to coach you through it. If you feel it is too difficult, then I’d be happy to help you get reassigned into one of the lower classes.”

  I closed my eyes, refusing to allow this man to bait me anymore. “I’ll do my best,” I replied civilly, before taking my seat once again.

  ---

  “You honestly like her?” The voice of a guy standing two lockers down drifted to me as he spoke with his friend.

  “Yeah! She’s cute.” He continued to get supplies from his locker.

  “I thought you liked her friend Shelly.”

  The other boy shrugged. “I changed my mind. I think I might see how things go with Portia, instead. She’s going to the game tonight. I told her I’d meet her there.”

  “So she agreed to meet you?” the first boy asked excitedly.

  “Yep.” The second one grinned. “Maybe I’ll get a little action tonight.” He slammed his locker shut and the two of them walked away laughing and high fiving.

  A streak of anger coursed through me. This jerk thought he was getting some action off Portia? True, I didn’t know her hardly at all, but she certainly didn’t strike me as that kind of girl.

  I followed the two of them down the hallway before grabbing a kid at the water fountain. “Hey, who are those two guys?” I asked, pointing as I held him by the collar.

  “Uh,” he sputtered in surprise. “Slade Hendricks and Shane Cooper.” He pointed at each one.

  “Thanks, dude,” I replied, releasing him.

  Slade Hendricks better not do anything to hurt Portia or he’d have hell to pay from me. And somehow, I didn’t think Sean would mind much if I interfered.

  Shaking my head, I turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Five

  One Year Later

  Journal Entry:

  Dear Portia,

  I passed you in the hallway today at school, something you don’t know I occasionally go out of my way to do so I can hear the things running through your hea
d. I often feel like I live for those few moments. Even though I could, I try not to listen the rest of the time; though it’s hard not to. Your energy envelops me. It’s an incredible feeling. I don’t want to invade the privacy of your mind; but when you see me, you think of me, and it’s a treat I can’t seem to make myself walk away from. I hope you’ll forgive me for that someday.

  Today I noticed it’s becoming increasingly harder to pretend I don’t recognize you. I want to stare—drink you in from the top of your pretty black-haired head, to the tips of your cutely painted toenails. You’re so beautiful, so young, and full of life, so untainted by the evils of the world. When you smile the whole room lights up like the sun just moved out from behind the clouds. It almost makes me believe there still are good things to live for. Looking at you makes me wish for days filled with happiness and a life that could be normal. I don’t know if that will ever be a possibility for me, but for one minute, I’d love to live in your carefree world.

  I almost laughed out loud at what I heard in your head this morning when I passed by. You thought I looked “hot today, as usual,” and wondered what I’d do if you gave into your baser instincts and pushed me against a locker and kissed me. Please, baby, give into that baser instinct! You might be surprised at what you get back! I’m not as indifferent as I’ve led you to believe.

  Your ponderings monopolized mine for the rest of the day. All I could think of was how I’d react if you ever actually did do something like that. Portia, you’ve had me tied in knots for months now, and you don’t even know it.

  My first thought was I should grab you and slam you against the lockers, while I devoured your plump lips. But then I figured we might draw a pretty big crowd with our hallway display, so I decided maybe I’d simply scoop you up and kidnap you for the rest of the day, perhaps take you to my favorite spot in the canyon. It’s beautiful there, and then I could lay you on the ground and kiss you for hours, taking my time about it, like I really want to.

  Now, as I sit here tonight, I’m wondering how you would react to my reaction. I wish I could ask you. Would you be surprised? Would you trust me enough to let me whisk you away without any warning? Or would it scare you to find out I want you so badly?