Reckless Magic

I wondered if a black car was partof the dress code as Aunt Syl drove up in her cherry red convertible. I smiledwidely, happy not to fit in, and jumped in the passenger’s seat. As we droveaway, I felt slightly embarrassed for being picked up from school, but relievedthat we were leaving the looming towers of Kingsley behind us for now.

“How was your day?” Aunt Syl asked,glancing at me from behind her oversized sunglasses. Her shoulder-length hairwhipped around her face in the wind, but she barely noticed.

“Oh, you know,” I sighed, thankfulto be on my way home.

“ Actually, I don’t know.” Aunt Sylgave me a longer look, and I realized she was looking for assurance that Iwould be allowed back tomorrow.

“Well, I didn’t set anything onfire,” I smirked, keeping the exploding fern episode to myself. Aunt Syl smiledsweetly; she always put up with my sarcasm.

“Well did you make any friends?”she questioned further, very maternally.

“Um, yeah, one. Her name is LillyMason; we sit by each other in most of our classes,” I prayed she wouldn’t askabout the rest of my class; I had no idea what I would tell her.

“Well, that’s nice,” she paused,glancing at me quickly. “What about the boys?” a mischievous grin flashedacross her face, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

“Oh, I don’t know…. There are somegood looking boys, but they all seem too immature.” Kiran’s perfect face passedthrough my mind, but remembering his antics, I shook it out quickly.

“Sounds like high school to me,” shelaughed, “So what do you want to do for di

I sometimes found it hard tobelieve we were related at all. Aunt Syl, or Dr. Sylvia Matthews, was verytall, very tan, and very blonde. I was naturally tan as well, but onlymoderately tall. As blonde as her hair was, mine was black. She made me keep itlong; she claimed it was something about my natural color and volume being acrime to cut short. I didn’t mind; at least I could hide behind it. Likewise,my eyes were black, very black; hers were crystal blue. She looked like the stereotypicalCalifornia beach babe, and I looked like the Adams family. How we both could berelated to my mother was beyond me, but since I’d never even seen a picture ofmy mother I guess I didn’t really know how it was possible.

“I’m in the mood for steak,” Isighed whimsically.

“Steak it is. But first, pedis,unless of course you have homework?” Only Aunt Syl would put a pedicure andsteak di

“No, nothing I can’t finish later,”I lied; but honestly who really expected me to learn the entire French languagein one night? I looked down at my beloved backpack filled with so many odiousbooks. I had enough homework to last me several weeks; a few hours ofprocrastinating would not get me any farther behind than I already was.

“Great,” she headed in thedirection of her favorite nail salon and I laid my head back against the seatand completely relaxed, for the first time all day.

–-

After a pampering spa pedicure, anda giant steak di

My house, a cozy Tudor style, fourbedroom, three bath, sat in the middle of one of the most beautifulneighborhoods in Omaha. All of the houses, built in the same style, lookeduniquely different. The tall trees embellished this part of town, andovershadowed most of the houses and streets of our mid-town, Happy Hollowneighborhood.

Although Aunt Syl made enough as anER doctor so that we could live almost anywhere in town, she preferred it here,as did I. The neighborhood was safe and since there was only the two of us, wedidn’t need anything bigger.

Sitting at the desk in my room,overlooking the street, I could see my yellow Land Rover looking back at me. Istared back longingly; one day I’d be able to drive it again, hopefully one daysoon.

I was never the child that neededmuch discipline and Aunt Syl wasn’t the type of adult to administer muchanyway. I did, however, lose my car after being kicked out of the third prepschool; I couldn’t really blame her.

I rapidly tapped my pencil on thedesk, knowing I should get to work, but lacking the will power. I dideverything I could to avoid French; but I was ru

French was too overwhelming, andafter just finishing Calculus, my brain was fried. Besides, I really needed atutor. A pit began to form in my stomach as I remembered the students in myFrench class, mentally picking them off one by one. I learned from Lilly during8th hour Chemistry that French 101 was an underclassmen class, and the majorityof the students were freshman. So not only was I unable to function normally atschool, I now needed tutoring from a freshman…. awesome.

I could ask Kiran…. or Talbott. Mystomach tightened at the thought of asking either one of them for help. Talbottseemed harmless enough, but his devotion to Kiran was disturbing. The way hefollowed Kiran around and could be so protective of him was not normal. Ithought of Lilly and hoped that eventually his loyal energy transferred toher.

That left Kiran. Barring the factthat he wouldn’t talk to me again after I threw him down the hallway with myinexplicable electrical powers, we didn’t exactly get along. Something abouthim both excited me and terrified me.

With swirling thoughts of all ofhis exciting and terrifying qualities, I drifted off to sleep at my desk. Icouldn’t escape him; he was even in my dreams. Subconsciously I knew that I wasdreaming, but there he was staring at me, as real as anything else.

He moved closer to me; instantly Ifelt the electricity coursing through my veins, but because it was a dream, itwas even more intense. I turned and ran away, but he chased me. I could hearhim only steps behind.

We were ru

Although I was ru

He grabbed my arm, and the force ofthe electricity from his touch pulled both of us to the ground. I found that wewere now laying on our backs in a meadow, looking up at the million starslighting up the sky.

I wanted to get up and run again,but I couldn’t. My limbs felt weak and although the electricity hadn’t left mybody yet, a dull humming kept me very conscious of Kiran’s hand intertwinedwith mine.

My hair fa

I looked over at him, unable tospeak a word. I was transfixed to the ground, but it was not an unpleasantfeeling. Kiran reached over with one hand, still holding my hand with his otherto brush the hair away from my face.

“Eden,” he whispered in a hypnoticvoice. “Will you please tell me what you are?” he smiled sweetly. I couldn’thelp myself; I wanted to tell him what I was, because I knew that I wassomething, something different, even though I didn’t know what it was.