The Trouble with Spells

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

    It was Friday and my birthday.

    Shelly and I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed our bags, and headed toward the school, chatting between ourselves about my party, which was to take place that evening. I smiled at the few birthday greetings called my way by friends and students heading in the same direction we were.

    "Well, that's interesting," Shelly said with a slight smirk.

    "What is?" I asked absently, not following her.

    "Vance Mangum is staring at you." She gave an almost inconspicuous nod over her shoulder.

    I couldn't help myself, and turned my head to look. 

    She was right. My heart skipped a beat.

    Vance Mangum was leaning against his jet-black motorcycle looking straight at me. For a moment our eyes locked, we simply stared at each other. I couldn't seem to break my gaze away, until I tripped over the curb. Thankfully, Shelly caught me before I fell all the way down.

    I couldn't resist a quick peek to see if he was still watching. He was, of course, and I was mortified. I turned and hurried into the school. All day long, I found my thoughts drifting back to the incident.

    Vance Mangum was in a class by himself. He was a senior, who had the reputation of a resident bad boy. Despite that, every boy in school aspired to be like him in one way or another. They were always trying to copy his cool messed-up hair or getting their holey Levis to look just as good. Some even attempted doing extra workouts to build their muscles so their t-shirts would stretch across their chests like his. But no matter how hard they tried, none of them managed to pull it off quite the way he did.

    Of course, the girls adored him. He was totally gorgeous, sporting the looks that went with the physique—luscious, dark-brown hair and chiseled features, set off by bright-blue eyes lined in thick lashes. The parking lot would come to a virtual standstill whenever he rode up on his motorcycle, decked out in a black leather jacket and helmet. All the girls would cease whatever they were doing and begin chattering about him.

    I definitely hadn't been immune to him either—often catching myself joining with the masses to watch. In fact, if I were being truthful, I'd have to admit to the secret crush I had since I first noticed him. I couldn't stop staring at the hint of tattoos on both his shoulders, which occasionally peeked from under the short sleeves of his t-shirts. I'd heard rumors that he had one down his left side as well, though I'd never seen it to know if it was true. Sometimes I wished I was brave enough to ask him if I could see them, but even the thought of doing something that bold made butterflies appear in my stomach. One did not randomly walk up and start talking to Vance Mangum.

    Vance never had a girlfriend that I could remember. He'd only lived here the past couple of years, and plenty of girls had paraded themselves in front of him hoping to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious to them. His aloofness spawned many wild tales. Stories were told of how he was a drug dealer, or how he'd been in juvie because he beat up a guy in a bar fight. Another one said he'd gotten some girl pregnant and was forced to leave home and come here to live with his aunt. But the truth was, no one really knew anything about him because he stayed to himself.

    Shelly had a couple of classes with him. She said he always sat in the very back of the room and never said anything unless the teacher called on him specifically, but he always turned his work in on time and never harassed the teachers in any way.

    "Do you agree with that, Miss Mullins?" Mr. Harkins's voice popped into my head, breaking me from my reverie.

    "Huh?" I said absently, before realizing I had no idea what the question was.