Wizard

TWO

Well, it can't get any worse, I thought to myself as I wandered to the packing lot just as the school bell rung the day over and laid down on the bonnet of the very first car I set my eyes upon, not sure who owned it and not caring enough to find out.

As it turned out, no sooner had I left Miss Trasch that Roy got me and carried me to the coach- Oh I forgot to mention, he's the football team captain, lucky me, eh?

Apparently, Mr. Foster hadn't wasted any time in relaying my failed science project story to the coach, I should have known that old weasel wasn't going to keep it to himself. The coach came at me all red-faced with words like lazy, insubordinate, dickhead, insubordinate again and finally after so many angry words later, he kicked me off the team with immediate.

It was so heartbreaking, I mean, it's not like football was my life or something like that but I was really starting to make an impact on the team, and all it took for all my efforts to come crashing down was a day with Mr. Foster and the Watermelon of doom.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?", I suddenly heard someone shout at me. Looking up, I saw no other person but Bella Evans, of all people.

You remember that thing I said about things unable to get any worse, well, I was wrong, and the blonde-haired, pink-wearing, infinitely obnoxious girl in front of me was a proof of it.

Bella Evans is someone that can be referred to as the 'Queen B' of Krestwick High, no pun intended, by the way. Now to a big city person, that might not mean anything, but when you live in a small town with only one 'standard' high school which happens to be sharing a name with the town itself, then you'll know that is a big deal.

Unfortunately for me, the Queen and I don't get along, I mean, not even in the slightest 'We're both Homo sapiens' bit. She hates my guts and I would give anything for her to forget that I exist- Don't ask me how we came to be like that 'cause I can't explain it myself.

"Bella, would you do me the favour of coming back another time?", I said to her, returning back to my wallowing on the car's bonnet, "I already have enough of you to last me two lifetimes".

"You're on my car, you idiot!", she shouted back at me in her trademark high-pitched voice that I'm very sure she practices in front of her mirror every night. I got up to see the famous B.E. sprawled on the hood of the car— Oh come on, you stupid mind! Couldn't you have dropped me anywhere else but here?

Realising my error, I quickly apologized and prepared for a quick getaway but like I suspected, she wasn't done with me yet.

"I'm going to check on my baby now", she said, pulling me back by the shirt to make sure that I heard, "And I will make sure you pay if anything is missing from her".

I shot her my 'I couldn't care less' look and walked away.

"Forgot your knockoff ", she said behind me. I turned to see her holding my backpack like some cheap rag. I couldn't control the anger that began to brew inside me at that moment, that girl always think that everyone is made so that she can kick them anyhow, well I'm going to show her.

I walked determinedly back towards her, collected my bag and said, "This knockoff is going to do this", and I banged it intensely on her hood.

Immediately, her headlamps broke as the bag made contact, I'm talking blockbuster-size explosion with glass shattering and flying dangerously around before dropping haphazardly all over the parking lot here.

I was in some deep trouble there, her banshee scream only making the trouble all the more real. Okay, I'll admit that I really wanted for something bad to happen to her car, but I didn't really think it was going to happen, and definitely not while I was still there- You're getting how bad this is, don't you?

I suddenly saw  two boys running towards the scene and my instincts immediately kicked in, taking off just as they were almost upon me. About two seconds later, I heard them shouting at me to wait but I didn't, the headstart I had gained and my almost everyday experience of running away from bullies giving me the advantage necessary to outrun them.

Quickly, I got on my bike and rode off at a neck breaking speed, better to die from a crash than from the beating those boys will surely give me when they catch up. I looked back and I saw them in a distance, one of them flipping me the bird. I can't say what would happen later on but for now, I was safe.

I got home without a scratch, parking my bike and chaining it to the pole in front of the house before running up the small steps to the door.

Immediately I opened the door, I was greeted with the scent of an ocean breeze perfume and the sound of water running, a telltale sign that Mom was home and preparing dinner.

Mom works as a fitness coach in the local gym, that coupled with her recent appointment as the coach of the local female basketball team making her a very busy entity in the house.

"Is that you, Troy?", she called from the kitchen.

"Yes mom".

"How was school today?"

"Fine".

"Wash up, then come and help me prepare dinner ".

That was how our conversation  always went every day, except for weekends that is, she asks the question in quick short sentences, I answer them as concisely as I can.

Thing is, Mom is someone who just doesn't like to waste time, in contrast to my dallying nature, and that's not the only thing that we have in contrast.

For starters, her hair is a regular blonde colour but mine is sandy brown, her chin curvy but mine sturdy, and then there's the issue of her thriving sports life in contrast to my already failed. If not that we happen to share the same average height which I'm starting to tower over her, and the same emerald eye colour, no one would have believed I was her son

The story was that I got most of my looks from my Dad, a fact which is very hard to accept or not since the man is not around. Not that he's dead or anything like that, mind you, he's just mysteriously out of the picture and Mom doesn't talk about him, not that I asked her anyway.

Anyway, I raced up the stairs to my room but fell when I suddenly felt the ground shift underneath me. Earthquake was my first thought, but that would nearly impossible since earthquakes rarely happens in Krestwick.

Quickly, I ran back downstairs to check on Mom but stopped short as I looked down to see her staring at a man in our doorway. There wasn't fear in her eyes, just an odd sense of familiarity.

The man was putting on a tailcoat that reached down to his knees, partly opened to reveal a shirt underneath with a lot of golden buttons that matched the golden wristwatch he wore. His hair was solid gray with no sign of balding. He had a top hat in his hand which made him look like someone who had just timetravelled from the Victorian era, not that I believe in that sort of thing, mind you.

"I'm sorry if I gave you a fright.", he said, his voice coming out in a very smooth tone, "Sometimes, I just happen to forget that not everyone is used to me and my style".

"Who's the old chap?", I asked as I finally came down the stairs, going to stand next to Mom.

"Don't be rude, Troy", Mom returned sternly, "He's your grandfather".

Wait, what? "I thought grandpa Cole is dead", I said to her, she had told me that herself and even though I never met him, I'm quite sure the dead don't come visiting.

"This is not your grandpa Cole", she replied, "He's your paternal grandfather Blake, Blake Sanders".