The Problem With Black Magic Read online

Chapter Three

  Cassie told her parents that she might be coming down with the flu, not a hard sell due to her haggard appearance, and spent the rest of that Sunday in bed. By Monday, she felt better, but she still felt that odd buzzing sensation that she'd had ever since Sam froze time; sometimes she felt it between her shoulder blades, sometimes at the base of her spine, but it was always somewhere. When she went back to school on Wednesday, the strange feeling made it difficult to concentrate. She was going to have to actually read the textbook to understand what was going on in chemistry and pre-calc.

  She had been scheduled for her typical four-hour shifts at DG on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. She called in Monday and Wednesday, telling Dwight she still wasn't feeling up to coming in— really only partially a lie. Physically, she felt almost normal, but mentally, she wasn't sure she could handle being at DG again. Though he didn't say anything, Cassie got the impression that Dwight understood perfectly.

  Still, she didn't think it was fair to him to keep skipping shifts because she was mentally scarred; he was too nice to fire her, which is what most normal bosses would eventually do. By Friday, she figured she felt about as normal as she was ever going to get, so she decided to go back to work.

  Dwight looked shocked when she came into the back room and took her apron off the hook near her locker. "Hey, you sure you're ready for this? I already called Jay in to cover for you," he said.

  Cassie shrugged. "I can't hide in my room forever, and I like having money; I should probably keep working," she said.

  Dwight stood up from the circular metal table in the break room and stood before her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Normally that might be a cause for concern between a teenage employee and a thirty-something manager— especially one who played bass in a metal band with rather filthy lyrics, the main thing Dwight did in his spare time— but somehow, it never felt inappropriate coming from the small man. His blue eyes, much lighter than her own, made his concern for her obvious; never overwrought and dramatic, but clearly there.

  "If you're sure. But listen, if you start feeling bad, don't be afraid to tell me, okay? You can leave anytime."

  Cassie smiled at him, removing his hands from her shoulders with her own. "Dwight, I do not have PTSD, okay? I'll be alright." She moved toward the front of the store, eager to lose herself in the mindless monotony of babysitting a cash register.

  Dwight turned around to face her retreating back. "You sure? I think I have some wicked PTSD...." he said, and she laughed, as he intended.

  Behind the counter, she went to the espresso bar and tapped Jay on the shoulder. "Tag. You're it."

  "Hey, you feeling better?" her friend asked. She'd known Jay since they were small children, and though he'd gotten taller— a hair taller than herself, now— his huge brown eyes looked at her in much the same way he had when they were in kindergarten together. She had a real little brother, Hunter, but she would be lying if she didn't admit that she often thought of Jay that way as well.

  "Much better, thanks," she said, marking a cup for employee use to make a sugar-loaded mocha. Cassie didn't work the espresso bar often, but she knew enough to make her own drinks. Technically, they were only entitled to one free drink per shift, but Dwight had made it obvious he couldn't possibly care less. As long as they weren't going through the syrup at a breakneck pace, they could have all the drinks they wanted.

  She had seen Jay in school over the past few days, but she'd been avoiding him; she wasn't sure if he'd realized it, or just assumed she was keeping her “flu” germs away from him. They usually told each other almost everything, and while she wasn't planning to tell Jay about what had happened on Sunday morning, she thought she probably should tell him something: what, she wasn't sure.

  Jay turned around to face her, wiping his hands on his apron. "Hey, is Sam out with the flu like you were? I've been asking where he is for the last several shifts, but it's like Dwight and Khalil don't want to talk about it."

  Cassie felt her mouth tighten as she pulled the shots for her mocha. "Why should they want to talk about him? He's an ass."

  "Well yeah, but he works full time and he hasn't been here all week, and the managers aren't saying anything. I mean, if he quit, they would have said something, right?" said Jay as he cleaned the other espresso machine, looking as lost as she felt.

  "I dunno, Jay, no idea what's up with him," she said quietly as she poured some of the foamed skim milk that Jay had put aside into her cup. She'd lied to Jay before— normally when he asked her if she thought being into certain games made him seem excessively geeky— but never so boldly. A slight wave of nausea gripped her, but passed, mercifully.

  He paused his work on the machine and looked at her. "I don't believe you...something happened and you all decided not to tell me," he said. "Something that has to do with Sam."

  "Jay, don't be stupid," she said, taking a few sips of her piping hot drink. Well, if nothing else, at least she could still make a delicious mocha, if she did say so herself.

  "I'm not being stupid, it's just really obvious. Every time I mention him to Dwight or Khalil, they change the subject as fast as they can, and now you're acting weird, too. Tell me what's going on."

  Cassie made a show of rolling her eyes theatrically over her drink. "Okay Jay, you've got us. Sam cast a magic spell over the city, and we're the only ones who know. We have to keep his secret safe, so the vampires won't kill us all," she said.

  Jay's eyes widened for a minute, and Cassie wondered if she'd miscalculated; she'd thought that giving him an abridged version of the truth (with the addition of vampires, because why not?) would sound like a joke, but Jay, who surrounded himself with role-playing games and "Magic: The Gathering" might have a different view on the plausibility of magic than most people. Eventually, he frowned and she exhaled.

  "Fine, be that way. You know I'll find out eventually," he said, making his best attempt to sound menacing, and not really succeeding. His voice hadn't quite changed yet, making the tough act a hard sell.

  Cassie went to the register, not sure what to do about Jay. She'd always thought of him as naïve because he was quick to believe in aliens and other urban legends. Not to the point that he was gullible enough to fall for any kind of phony psychic, but he insisted that there was "something" out there that people didn't understand. She thought it was his desire to believe that any of the magic in his beloved games could somehow be real, but now that she'd seen what she'd seen, Cassie wasn't sure who the naive one was anymore. When she thought about it, it kind of hurt that he was right and she couldn't tell him about it.

  Putting him from her mind, Cassie looked up to see a gangly college student digging his wallet out of his messenger bag, his eyes fixed on the menu scrawled on the chalkboard behind her. "Hi, what can we get for you tonight?" she asked, with her practiced, fake cashier's cheerfulness. Normally she didn't like it, but right now, she was just as happy to role play the part of the cheerful valley girl in an apron, with nothing in her head.