Spells and Cinders

Chapter 7

"Wait . . ." Cassie paused for dramatic effect. "Hold up! Some random dipshit is sending you cryptic messages, and you're only telling me this now?" She smacked me upside the head. "What the hell, dude?"

"Sorry. Sorry, jeez." I rubbed the back of my head, wincing at the tenderness. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react this way, Cassandra."

"Do you know who this cojo-o is?" Cassie balled her hands into fists, her knuckles turning milky-white. "Also, how did they get your number? Man, I'd love to kick a thousand soccer balls in their face! The nerve!"

"I'm not sure," I admitted with a shrug. "I mean, this unknown stranger could be anyone—he or she. And the only way they'd have access to my number would be through student records in the administration office," I added, tilting my head to the side.

"Holy Mother of Jesus!" Her eyes grew wide as saucers. "You don't think . . . no, it couldn't be, could it?"

"What are you blabbering on about, Cass?"

"Graham. Graham Shaw!" She swatted my arm repeatedly.

"What about him?"

"Well, think about it. He's the principal's son, so he has easy access to student personnel files."

I rolled my eyes at her hypothesis. "He's not smart enough to pull off something like that. Graham's a football jockey. They're known to have little to no brain cells."

"Gee, I never pegged you as someone who stereotypes, Miss Andrea." She frowned, placing her hands on her hips.

I sighed heavily. "You're right, that was insensitive of me."

"You bet your ass I'm right! Now, I will meet you in the parking lot after home economics." She licked her lips, her mind most likely on food. "Mr. Vasquez's teaching us how to make quesabirrias this week. Last week, we made Tacos de Papa."

"Well, don't be late. Celia wants all of these tasks done before the celebration tonight."

"I hope Chiyo and I will be partnered again today," she said instead of responding to what I told her.

"Cassie . . . I know you're interested in Chiyo Komi and maybe it's time you let her know how you feel," I said and slung my backpack over my shoulder. "And if she doesn't return your affection, well, at least you tried."

"Before I forget, I heard June Chen say she saw Ruby throw your clothes into the dumpster behind the basketball court when she took her weed break."

"Okay. Thank you." I nodded as Cassie began walking off toward the other end of the school.

Making a mental note to retrieve my clothes from the abandoned dumpster after Graham's tutoring session, I headed for the west wing, where Greenbay's library stood untouched, with the last of my patience wearing thin.

I've always loved libraries. The amount of learning and fun you could have was endless. I never understood why some people thought the library was only for nerds and the concept of reading made you "uncool," like having an imagination or an ounce of creativity was somehow sinful.

"Hi, Mrs. Gallagher." I waved, walking up to one of the tables; she finished cleaning.

"Hello, my dear." She tossed the Clorox wipe into the trash can. "Come to share more of your poetry with me?" she asked, closing the container of wipes and setting them on the table.

The time shown on the clock behind the receptionist's desk read: 2:50 p.m.

Twenty minutes into our session, and you're nowhere to be seen, Graham.