“Uh, do you want me to take my shoes off?” Evan asks, making to do so.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I do myself, but you can do whatever.”
“Okay then.” Evan pulls up her feet and removes her sneakers, one after the other, showing bright purple socks patterned with light blue snowflakes. Ice fashion, I guess.
I stare at her socks for a bit - they’re hard to miss - before pulling my gaze away from her and starting to climb the stairs. Along the way, I try to take off my boots and socks while stepping up - I’ve gotten it down to an art over the years.
Of course, I’ve never had anyone else to observe this unusual habit of mine before, so I keep falling forwards and face-planting on the next step up every so often. Behind me, Evan giggles every time I take another pratfall, and even more so when I give up and just keep climbing up to the top - my left foot still in its boot, my right foot bare, so my gait is rendered uneven.
I open the door to my room, immediately feeling a bit self-conscious about it. Unlike most boys (*cough* Jeremy *cough*), I don’t have much of a problem with cleanliness - I don’t have T-shirts and boxers strewn all over the floor, bed unmade, game controllers piled up next to the TV, that sort of thing. I actually don’t have much in my room at all - just a TV, an ancient PS2, a small stack of DVDs including the complete Harry Potter series and The Amazing Spider-Man (both of ‘em - so far), and a bed that’s about two feet off the ground because it’s got two rows of drawers underneath it.
Evan takes her time to check the place out. “Pretty, um, minimalist.”
“I know,” I say, finally removing that pesky left boot and sock. I curl my toes against the carpet, glad they’re free to breathe again. I’d love to go barefoot all the time, but obviously that’s not possible, what with the school’s dress code and all. And for whatever reason, I can only do it in the winter - in summer, when it actually makes sense, my feet turn into sweaty dust magnets.
Evan smiles at my foot-related antics. “How are you doin’ that?”
“Doin’ what? Makin’ fists with my toes?”
“Cute,” Evan laughs. “No, I mean, how do you not have a problem with bein’ barefoot? I’m an Ice girl, and I’m freezin’ to death in here.” She hugs herself for effect.
“I just don’t,” I say. “I’m so weird like that, you have no idea.”
“Wanna bet?” Evan laughs again. “Okay, so...do you have the book with you?”
“I don’t think so,” I say. “Wait, let me check…” I open my backpack. “Oh good, it’s here.” I pull out my English book and open it to the balcony scene. “Act II, Scene 2, right? Okay. And you got your book, or no?”
“No, sorry.”
“When do we gotta present this again?”
Evan pauses for a moment to remember. “Um, next Friday.”
“That should give us plenty of time,” I say. “Okay, guess today, we’ll be sharin’ the book. You...you think Ms. Y’s gonna care?”
“Probably not,” Evan says, before switching to Ms. Y’s Russian accent. “At least you remembered your books, unlike some of the real dunderheads in this class. I’m looking at you, Gimpy! Epic fail there!”
I laugh out loud. “Damn, that’s a good impression.”
“I’ve been workin’ on it for a while,” Evan says, sitting on my bed. “So you’re gonna go first, and then...I guess we’ll work from there?”
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Ice Chronicles - The Magi
ParanormalDark warlock Jason Cross is quite the lonely boy - until the girl he likes takes the time to get to know him. Evan Michaelsen's presence leads to a string of major changes in Jason's life - not the least of which is the development of Ice powers he...
