“We have any sugar for this coffee?” Jake asked, breaking into Samara’s calming reverie.
“No.” She said without opening her eyes. “You really should cut back on all the sugar.”
“Why? Am I getting fat?”
She looked at his athletic figure, the same figure he had always had. “So fat.”
“You’re mean this morning. Have a bad sleep?” He did not look at her but she knew he was gently asking how hard her night had been.
“It was okay.”
“Really?” He said.
“I managed.”
“I’m glad.”
Samara decided to change the subject. “The last thing I remember was you dragging Dane out the door. Did you like, hurt him?”
“Not yet. Only if he comes back.”
“Thanks.” She said, unable to fully convey the depths of her gratitude.
“What happened with you two anyway?”
“I caught him making out with someone else at graduation.”
“I should’ve slapped him harder,” Jake said.
“Anyway, I gotta get ready to go and like, drown my hair in hairspray.”
He looked at her hair.
“Don’t say a word.” She said with serious eyes.
He wordlessly sipped his coffee, grimacing at its bitterness.
Samara raced against the clock to get ready. Her hair was the least of her problems. She needed to find the perfect first-day-at-magic-school outfit. It was difficult because she had never been to magic school before and had no idea what to expect. Most of her clothes fell into two categories: casual metal-head and stylish athletic. She opted for stylish-casual-metal-head and pulled on a pair of tight blue jeans cut above the ankle, a purple tank top that would match the color of her favorite leather jacket, with a black v-neck t-shirt open enough to see the tank top beneath. The shirt had the name Burn The Sleepers emblazoned across it in flaming letters above a city being consumed by fire. Samara knew exactly which shoes she would wear too.
She stopped to double check a few things in her full length mirror and caught her parents staring at her in the reflection from her bedside table. Samara turned and picked up the photo. She was a baby in her mom’s arms and the object of her dad’s huge smile. Every time she reached a milestone in life, learning to drive, winning events in track and field, graduating high school, she felt the ache of loss, as if a part of her life was missing. Jake was there for all those events, her loyal unwavering uncle, and he did his best to play the role of a parent but there were some holes nobody else could fill. She wished she had more pictures of them. Jake said this was the only one left after the fire because it had been a gift from his brother.
Samara only knew the vaguest of details about Jake’s past, both of their pasts actually. She knew he had worked for the Courts for several years, had a sigil, and left on less than amicable terms, and she knew that once he started his new life he tried desperately to keep it separate from his old life
In fact Samara was almost completely sure that if she had not seen the tattoo on Deborah’s dad’s chest that was almost identical to the one on Jake’s chest when they went to the beach one time and then confronted Jake about it, she would still have no idea the Courts existed. Adele also had a tattoo, which was apparently a sigil, and her and Deborah were delighted that Samara recognized it because it meant that they did not have to keep secrets from her. Deborah was so excited she did not stop talking about the Courts for two hours straight without realizing that Samara had no idea what she was saying. She even made her dad use his sigil. Apparently it was a Spring Levitation Sigil. The whole experience shocked Samara so thoroughly that she felt faint at one point.
When she got back home that day she walked angrily up to Jake. “Do you have magic powers?” She demanded.
He stared at her. “No.”
“Seriously?”
Jake sighed. “Who told you?”
“Oh my god! I can’t believe you have magic powers!”
“Who told you?”
“Nobody told me! I noticed that Deborah’s parents have almost the same tattoo as you in the same place.” She pointed to his chest.
“They’re members of the Courts?”
“Apparently! And I guess you are too.” Samara almost yelled.
“I’m retired actually.”
She wanted to strangle him. “How could you not tell me?”
“I don’t have anything to do with all that anymore, and that’s the way it should be.”
“Show me.” Samara said. “I want to see it.”
“Okay, which Court do the Huttons belong to?” Jake said.
“Spring is what Deborah said. Whatever that means.”
“I see.” Red energy blazed into existence and flowed from Jake’s chest and whirled the length of his arm. It formed a chain and without warning it wrapped gently around Samara’s waist. She gasped when Jake used it to lift her into the air.
“Holy crap!”
He put her down and the chain disappeared.
“I have so, so, so many questions.”
In the ensuing conversation Samara learned several things: her parents had sigils and were members of the Summer Court like Jake; there were four Courts and one of them was in Vancouver; they were a very secret and very powerful group, their purpose was to balance the Pattern (whatever that meant); and most importantly, they had a school where people were taught to use magic. From the first moment she heard about the Academy she wanted to go there. True, magic school was probably something most fifteen year old girls would have wanted to do, but Jake was careful to not to inflate her hopes. He said that entrance to the Academy of the Eternal Courts was highly exclusive and they did not take anyone under the age of eighteen. Samara was undaunted, and Deborah encouraged her aspirations. Samara was pretty sure Adele had talked to Jake about it as well. In the end Jake had found a way to get her in, and her happiness was immeasurable.
The only thing that dampened her delight with the new world of magic and wonder that emerged in front of her was the fate of her parents. Jake told her that they had been killed in a battle and their house had burned down along with most of their possessions.
When Samara asked for more details Jake said that some things were better left unknown, which made her think that whatever had happened to them had been traumatic. Ever since then she had been unsure if she really wanted to know what occurred.
“Who killed them?” She had asked one day.
“Bad people.” Jake said.
And that was all he ever said on the subject and the way he said it indicated that no further discussion was necessary. There were times when she resented his stubborn refusal to say anything more on the matter, but a part of her suspected that his silence was a way of protecting her, and maybe himself too. No doubt he did not want to relive the pain he felt when his brother and sister-in-law were killed.
Her phone buzzed. It was from Deborah, who was perhaps the only person Samara knew that used good grammar in her text messages.
Be there in ten.
It buzzed again.
Minuets.
Buzzed again.
Minutes. Not minuets. Sorry.
Samara texted back. What even is a minuet?
I’ll check. A few seconds later her phone buzzed again. It’s a kind of ballroom dance.
Ok. See you in ten dances. Followed by a dancing turtle emoticon.
Nine.
Whatever. Shuttup. Punctuated by an eye rolling face.
Samara thundered down the stairs and almost slammed into Jake as she turned the corner at the bottom. He dodged her just in time, making her stumble. She righted herself and continued on into the kitchen where she filled her water bottle. Jake waited by the front door.
“They’ll be here any second.” Samara said. She looked at him. “You really want that ice cream huh?”
“I can wait.”
Samara smiled. She put her backpack down and gripped Jake in a crushing hug. He squeezed her back with his strong arms.
“Have a good day. I look forward to hearing about it.”
She kept crushing him for several more seconds.
Roughly seven dances later Samara climbed into the van beside Deborah. Her dad, Mr. Hutton as Samara called him, was driving and he greeted Samara with an exuberant smile. Like the rest of his family he had a friendly aura, and his bright blue eyes glinted with good humor above his tie and casual suit. Samara smiled at him and muted her ability to see auras.
“Nervous?” Mr. Hutton said.
“Yeah, kinda.”
“You don’t have to be nervous. I’m a great driver.” He grinned as his daughter rolled her eyes.
“He made that same joke to me already.” She explained. “I told him it wasn’t good enough to make twice.”
“Obviously you were wrong.” Her dad said. “What happened to your eye Samara?”
“You should see the other guy. Pretty sure he has a bruised elbow.”
“It happened at the concert didn’t it?” Deborah said.
“No, I just saw a chance to attack a guy’s elbow with my face and I took it,” Samara said.
“Not only did you have to listen to bad music, but you also got beat up.” Deborah said. “This is why I’m not a metal-head.”
Samara waved at Jake as they passed him on the street. He waved from the sidewalk with a slight smile. Samara’s stomach fluttered with unrestrained aggression as Jake disappeared when they turned a corner.
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