Wizard

FOUR

I laid down on my bed that night but couldn't sleep, a consequence of the fact that the the decision I had to make still weighed heavily on my mind. What's funny though is that a part of my mind already knew exactly what to do but that wasn't making the whole process any better— Guess knowing isn't the same thing as exerting, huh?

Looking at it from a logical point of view, there's actually no reason why I should decline. Mom can take care of herself all summer, and she's definitely going to be a lot more busy than usual in light of the regional youth female basketball competition coming up. In fact, that means that my staying home wasn't going to do her any good, that coupled with the fact that I have no place to go or friend to visit is almost like a neon sign announcing 'Go to Firewalt, Troy'.

Guess the real question is that am I really Sanders family wizard material? 'Cause if grandpa Blake is to be a judging point, the family must be made up of some exceptional magicians and even though I've denying it to myself all night long, the thought of possessing magic is really starting to appeal to me more and more as the seconds ticked by.

And in that moment, I made up my mind as I turned off the light and welcomed the long eluded sleep; Tomorrow, I'm going to face all of my demons and if I survive them, then it's off to Firewalt next week.

The day couldn't have gone any better, I got my assignment to Miss Trasch as soon as I arrived in school and judging from the look on her face, I'm sure that it's not 'F for French' for me. I hadn't seen Bella all day long but I left an apology note and twenty bucks in her locker, the twenty bucks is actually for her destroyed makeup when she cried yesterday— Sorry Bella but the car is way above what I can afford, I hope you understand.

On the not so good side, the coach didn't budge on the issue of allowing me back on the team, not even when I told him that I wasn't going to have a chat with Mr. Foster about him letting me redo the project. Anyway, I've already decided it's for the best, we can't all be football superstars, now can we?

All that remains now is to serve Mr. Foster's detention and then, I can go home to wait for Blake, with my affirmative 'I'm so going to your school of magic, grandpa' response that is.

Everyone had always talked about Mr. Foster's detention being the absolute worst but I never believed it, well, until now. I have been in detention before, mind you, that's one of my constant extra curricular activities but never one like this.

What gave his detention its reputation was actually the inclusion of a depressing horror called classical music and stack of science textbooks so high it could start another school library, I have not even opened one and I was ready to jump out the window. I wish I could control my magic right now, maybe I would have been able to manipulate him to let me go or at least, stop the horror show. But then, I've watched some crazy movies where the evil teacher was actually an even more evil wizard in disguise, can't say I'll be all that surprised if that turned out to be true about Mr. More-evil-than-evil-itself Foster over there.

Just as I was about to tell myself that things can get any worse, Mr. Foster suddenly said to me, "Mr. Sanders, say hello to your detention buddy", and looking up, I came face to face with no other person but Roy Henderson sporting nothing but a wide grin on his face— Oh yeah Troy, you are so dead.

Thirty minutes into detention and Roy was still staring at me with those killer's eyes. Even when I pretend to concentrate on the torture textbook in front of me just to tune him out, I could still feel his eyes boring invisible holes inside me.

My time of death came when Mr. Foster decided to step outside the classroom for a while.

"Can I come with you, sir?", I quickly asked him, a lot quicker than I thought even possible for myself.

He looked at me over the rim of his glasses and replied in that crazy boom box voice of his, "Do I need to remind you Mr. Sanders that this is not a social gathering?"

"What I meant was that I needed to go to the bathroom and since you are going out now, it's only logical that we step outside together, right?", I replied again, surprising myself once more with my quick thinking, guess you get a lot smarter when your life is on the line.

However, Mr. Foster only gave me one of his well-known scrutinizing looks in response.

"I'm your science teacher Mr. Sanders, so I know how a person who needs to pee looks like", he replied after while, "And you son, don't have that look "— Wait, what! How the hell is a person with a peeing issue supposed to look?

Unfortunately for me, Mr. Foster wasn't in the mood to explain himself, so much for being the impacter of science knowledge, and I could watch as he stepped out of the class. Realising that my lifeline was out, I quickly stood up and put two desks between Roy and I.

"What's going on? ", he asked, getting up and looking as if he wasn't planning my demise— You can't fool me Roy, I know what you're up to.

Anyway, I replied, "Nothing", and pretended to check the sturdiness of a desk, two can play the game, right?

He suddenly moved towards me and I moved farther away, still keeping the 'two desks' distance. I looked at the door and an idea came to me, what that will hopefully save my life once for all.

First, I made sure he was close enough to me before I made to move to the left. He followed my direction but it was a feint and I quickly retracted the movement and dashed for the door on the right. The plan would have been a success if not for those damn football legs of his. He grabbed me before I had the chance to get to the door.

"Think you can escape me, duck?", he asked, giving me a devilish smile, one with promise of great pain to come.

"Why don't you just leave me alone?", I shouted at him, trying to sound tougher than I feel.

"This is not for me, Troy", he replied, "It's for Bella".

Bella, of course I should have known they were in on it together. A note and money was not enough to sway a girl like that, plus she has a special hatred for me.

I tried fighting back but he was too strong, I pushed and pushed but all to no avail. He pushed against the wall and began to crush my windpipe and I feared he was going to kill me.

"Get off me!", I shouted and all of a sudden, an encyclopedia flew off the shelf in the far corner of the room and hit him on the head. He jerked away from me, more in surprise than in pain actually, as he looked around to be sure before turning back to me.

"How did you do that?", he asked, the surprise making his voice come out in gasps.

"I didn't do anything ", I replied and put on my best poker face.

He was about to begin pressing me for the truth when the door suddenly swung open and Grandpa Blake walked in, all calm and glorious I must add— Yeah, that's the Blake Sanders' way.

"Come on", he said, "Detention's over".