Chapter 1 of an old novel called “Bluebird”, but it has superpowers and a concussion, so that’s nice
Teenagers are addicted to technology. Smartphones, tablets, watches. Everywhere you look someone is avoiding RL. But I will tell you something teenagers love more, something that connects them to the beating heart of humanity. That thing, of course, is close-up magic.
When I turned thirteen I hit the rebellious stage hard, talking back and downing capri suns like a badass. My brother decided to enable this by taking me to see a close-up magic show. I sat and sulked while this middle-aged man pulled cards from ears, handkerchiefs from lips, and items of all shapes, sizes, and colors from every other orifice. I wanted to hate it. I pretended to hate it. Except it was totally awesome.
I went home, stole my parent’s credit card, and bought my very own magic kit. Within weeks I was impressing girls. None of those middle school relationships really worked out, but it didn’t matter, because honestly, I was awesome.
That is until I witnessed something that was actually, totally unexplainable. I was seventeen at the time, a student at Milwaukee’s finest institute of lower education: Northside High School. Ranked as “Very Concerning” in comparison to the rest of the country, North High boasted a whopping 33% graduation rate, exactly the kind of place you’d expect strange and unusual things to occur. Usually in the parking lot. I hoped once I got into the actual building things would be normal.
I was wrong.
For reasons I really don’t want to get into my parents uprooted our family, moved across the country, and stuck me in North High my senior year. So not only did I bring a savant skill in close-up magic to the pecking order, I also had zero friends.
All such concerns left me, however, upon my arrival on the first day.
I drove my 2003 Chrysler Town & Country to the parking lot, knowing I’d have to take someone’s spot and hoping it wouldn’t get me beaten up on the first day. The gate to the school was barely big enough for two cars to get through, and I sat in the inevitable traffic as a pair of tires roared to life behind me.
The car was a 2018 muscle something driven by an idiot who floored it out of sheer frustration. He pulled around the line of cars and rocketed into the lot, looking up just in time to see a short, blonde girl in his flight path. I watched as he slammed on his brakes, trying to stop the sixty mile-per-hour missile as it careened toward her, the girl calmly looking at the vehicle as it sped to end her life. She turned to face it, and the car passed through her like she was a wisp of cloud. I blinked and looked closer, sure I hadn’t ACTUALLY seen what just happened, but she stood there, watching the car as it passed through her, finally skidding to a stop. She glanced at the cars in line, and I watched as she scanned the drivers in front of me, looking at each of them closely. I ducked behind the dashboard, grabbing my phone to avoid her gaze. When I looked up she’d finished scanning the witnesses, and looked back, glancing at me in surprise. I felt her stare as I pretended to scroll on my phone, and after a few moments risked a peek, seeing her run to check on the idiot driver.
After that I figured my day would be normal, which I really hoped it would be. To be honest, I’m terrified of high school. Of people. Of everything. Life is unpredictable, and some people find that exhilarating. Those people are freaks. So imagine my delight when I found a full fist fight raging in front of my locker. I tried to ease my way around, moving through the circle of cheering assholes, when I felt myself grabbed by my backpack, turned around and flung bodily into the ring.
I tried to escape but was tossed back in, kids chanting “new kid! new kid! new kid!” as I looked at the hulking mass of my opponent. He was the most monstrous person I’d ever seen, standing six feet tall and weighing three hundred pounds of solid muscle. He grinned down at me like some teenage Thanos, and I pulled my fists up, looking idiotic, and prepared to be pummeled. Without warning two other kids burst in beside me. One a short, muscular guy in a Pearl Jam t-shirt with spiked hair, and the other a lean, lanky fashionable kid with brown hair and a concerned expression.
The skinny guy spoke up.
“Trying to welcome the new kid Max?”
Gregor Clegane grunted.
“Maybe we don’t do this today” he continued, “it’s the first day. I mean, do you really want to be suspended on the first day of your senior year?”
“Shut up Basil.”
His friend perked up, grinning.
“Now Max, we wouldn’t want to get you bloodied up. There are pictures today.”
Despite being twice his size, Max seemed to hesitate. Then someone from the crowd shouted, “Did your balls fall off!?”
A slamming sensation coursed through me as my stomach collapsed, Max’s fist exploding into my waist. I saw red and managed a quick “thank you” that he hadn’t hit any bones. I glanced up and saw his knuckles spring forward, pain erupting in my skull. I fell over and tried to blink, turning to see Max howl in pain as his legs flew skyward, the muscular kid on top of him and punching every inch he could get his hands on.
“Common, let’s get you to the nurse.”
Basil grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me up, a security guard rushing toward the fight as we stumbled forward.
Basil groaned, “He’ll be in detention for a month.”
We were barely two steps when the ethereal girl from the parking lot came rushing toward us, grabbing my other arm and pulling it over her surprisingly solid shoulders.
“Is he ok?”
“Took a punch from Max on his first day.”
“Jesus.”
“Why did you stop me?” I groaned, “I was going to fight his fists with my face.”
She giggled, a welcome sound, and we trudged our way to the nurse’s office, my legs somehow floating off the floor. They dropped me in a chair, Basil running to talk to the nurse while ghost girl sat next to me. A haziness filled my senses, and my brain felt sluggish as I glanced at the girl.
“Sooooooo, you walk thew wallsish?”
Somewhere my mind realized she was pretty. Not just pretty, but that rare combination of pretty and hot that just kind of works. She looked at me sharply but smiled at my unfocused eyes.
“That’s right new guy, I can walk through walls.”
I nodded.
“Mustvebe nice. Cars can’t hurt soo badsh.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“What did you see?”
“I saw you…I saw a car go riiiiiiiiiight through you.”
She looked concerned, but before she could say anything Basil entered with the nurse, who sat in front of me and shined a light in my eyes, pronouncing me “concussed” and grabbing her phone.
I woke up in a hospital bed, a couple of balloons by my throbbing skull and the smell of sanitizer soaking in the room. My Mom was staring out the window, a look of unconcern on her face, while my Dad sat passed out in a chair.
“Hey guys.”
My Mom turned and looked near me, smiling. My Dad stirred, realized I was awake and got up.
“How you feeling slugger?”
Slugger. A nickname from my grade school attempt at baseball. Hadn’t played since I was nine.
“I’m fine. Just a little groggy.”
My Mom smiled.
“Some visitors were here earlier.”
“Who?”
“Um…one was named Basil and the other was named Zeek, I think.”
“Zach.” My Dad corrected, “pretty sure it was Zach.”
Just then the door opened, and the two kids entered, Basil looking worried while Zach seemed very pleased with himself.
My mother gave me an embarrassing kiss before excusing herself to get coffee, grabbing my father on the way out the door. I turned to my two new friends as they walked in the room.
Zach raised an eyebrow, “Gonna die?”
Basil glared at him, “We just wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“Yeah,” I grimaced, “thanks to you guys. I haven’t even met you yet.”
Basil smiled and introduced everybody, grinning as he turned to a girl who’d just entered.
“And this is Claire. I don’t know if you remember her. She helped carry you to the nurse.”
“I don’t remember anything really. I was driving to school, and I guess I made it because I remember two fists and saying “thank you”.
Zach snorted, covering it with a cough.
“And I remember the nurse and waking up here. Everything else is a fog. I don’t think I’d trust my brain even if I could remember.”
They nodded, and I looked closely to see if anything registered on Claire’s face, but she seemed impassive.
“What was your first class?” she asked.
“No idea.”
“Well,” Basil opened my bag and took out a planner, “according to this you had Literature with Mrs. Wiese.”
“Nice,” Zach grinned, “you skipped the most useless class right up front.”
“Hey!” Claire shouted, “I like Mrs. Wiese!”
“She’s useless-“
“We should let you rest.” Basil cut in.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Sit with us tomorrow.” Zach said as he exited, and a feeling of gratitude flooded my chest.
The guys left but Claire lingered, stepping forward.
“You really don’t remember anything?”
“No, sorry.” I forced a frown, “I wasn’t a jerk or anything something was I?”
“No.” she laughed, “nothing like that”.
Now she was up close I actually saw her. Gold curls fell around her shoulders as green eyes scanned my face. She scared me a little, though I couldn’t say why. Her beauty seemed ethereal, like somehow she knew secrets I couldn’t understand. I tried not to look at girls too much. I noticed them, sure, but I tried to see them as people, not just things to look at. But it was impossible not to get caught up in Claire.”
“I have first period with you, so I’ll give you the notes from today.”
My stomach ran in circles, which was unfortunate, since it was accompanied by a wave of nausea. I generally try to avoid vomiting in font of people, and I felt a particular need to avoid doing so in front of her.
“I think I need to pass out Claire.”
“Of course, see you tomorrow hopefully.”
The wave passed as she left the room, but another came, and it wasn’t long before I was trying to pass out in earnest, hoping my body would find solid ground.
I thought of her as darkness came, of her eyes, her lips, her apparent ability to walk through walls. I was suddenly grateful for Max’s right hook. I was the only one who knew there was something unusual about Claire.
And I was going to find out what it was.