Turning eighteen is a big deal. Graduating, reaching adulthood, all that freedom? What kid doesn't look forward to that? I mean, just being able to eat all the candies you want...that's something to look forward to. But when you actually graduate, get your diploma, and have to decide what to do with the rest of your life, that's when things get scary.
Hello! Hello rhymes with Jell-O. My name is Loki Sram, magically gifted, ordinary girl of the twenty-first century. I'm eighteen, five foot nine, Scottish/Icelandic origins, and the proud owner of Jarl, my Cerberus/Great Pyrenees mix.
I'm graduating today. May twenty third, class of two thousand seventeen. I've already applied for a dozen colleges for the magically gifted, and nearly all of them have sent acceptance letters. My gift is pretty strong, and flexible, and schools want that in their student body.
I pull my motorcycle to the curb, taking the key out of the ignition and throwing my leather jacket over the seat. My helmet finds itself dangling from the handle as I walk into The Fairy Godmother, a popular cafe run by sprites.
I smile at the clerk, Claire, who knows me by name and sight. What can I say? I'm a regular.
I wait my turn to order, hands deep in my pockets and earbuds in. "One medium frappé please, two parts courage and one part charisma." I recite. Nearly every graduate will be ordering something from a fairy-run establishment, if only for the boost they provide our nerves.
I pay, claim my drink, and quickly drain it. I'm late, no time to dilly dally. I catch a glimpse of myself on the way out, black hair with electric green and blue traces snaking through, cut in a boyish style. Dark shadows under the steel grey eyes. I look like I haven't slept in years. Oh, well. Nothing I can do to fix that.
I rev my bike, taking side streets to the school.
I'm ready to live the first day of the rest of my life.
