Chapter Seven, pt.2
My name is Molly Davis and I think I'm a witch or something.
Up until a few weeks ago my life had been rather banal, all things considered. Sure, I play a mean harp and have a strange love for medieval armor and weaponry, but everybody's got their quirks.
And no, I'm not talking about gussying up myself with make up and macabre themed outfits either. When I say a witch . . . well . . .
I can hover in the air for one thing. I can tell gravity to go take a hike.
I can turn things into other things too. Yesterday I turned a frog into a prince. He sort of ran off brandishing a sword and yelling in a language I don't understand rather than kissing me and spiriting me away on some magical adventure -- with medieval weaponry – but he's probably out there somewhere, wondering why he's got a yearning for water lilies.
And I can blow things up. No, it's not what you think. I can blow things up without explosives! Or a frustrating Italian soap opera.
That's kind of what happened a few weeks ago, actually. Not a foreign Soap that's so bad it oxidizes the air around it, but my ability to explode things. That's what I figure started all the weirdness.
See, I was walking along in this abandoned construction zone all alone, with night coming soon . . . . . in an area I could have easily been raped or murdered or mugged or all three . . . . . . Wow, really didn't think things through that night . . . . . Anyway, I was minding my own sweet business when a beam came loose and nearly flattened me.
Except I blew it up. It exploded into flower pedals.
Yeah, that's not all of it though. The very next day a book appeared in my room and probably from the same stupidity that caused me to walk alone in an abandoned construction zone, instead of freaking out that some pervert could be sneaking into my bedroom I opened the book and began reading . . .
There's still a lot of stuff I don't know. Where does this power come from? What am I supposed to do with it exactly? Aren't there usually Merlin figures or something to guide me through all this? Some kind of fairy godmother or a magical school or something?
As it was, normal school was about to begin and I found myself walking with two of the new friends I made. They were in on my secret, mainly due to a lack of vigilance on my part. (The ever cryptic Book mentioned secrecy was preferred but it didn't say why . . .)
There was Brian, a red-head boy who's very . . . . passionate about some things. And totally lost about others. I think he's a bit dorky but in a lovable way.
Bringing him down to earth is James, whom I'm not entirely sure, but may have a crush on me (I think it's kind of cute, really). He's more practical and tends to keep Brian in line.
"Hey guys, what's up?" said a voice that belonged to a boy wearing a school-girl jumper, knee-high stockings, flat Mary Janes, a black wig, and what I dearly hoped was a stuffed bra (judging by the bulge in his chest area).
He sauntered up to us and we began walking again, each of us nervously doing our best to pretend nothing was wrong while various people outside the building stared at us.
His name was Chase.
I had heard disturbing rumors about him from other girls but, except for the whole cross-dressing thing which apparently was a recent development stemming from a bizarre relationship with a mysterious, unseen puppet-master, so far he hadn't done anything to warrant me pile driving him into a rusty anvil as my friend Diana had suggested, though it did beg a question.
"Say, Chase?" I said.
"Hmm?" he said nonchalantly. It was so weird; he had taken to wearing female clothing but walked and talked like a boy. Christ, his hands were cradling the back of his head! If it weren't for those slightly puffed sleeves I could have seen his armpits!
"Not to be rude," I said, "But some of my other friends told me you're supposed to be some kind of macho chauvinist or something . . ."
"Eh, I'm not really into that anymore . . ."
Everybody stopped. Not just James and Brian, people who were walking along the same sidewalk stopped as well. The birds stopped chirping, the bugs stopped creaking; the world was stunned.
James whispered an aside to Brian, "I guess the alien apocalypse really is upon us."
I stifled a giggle.
"What?" Chase said. "If you MUST know, I just don't see any reason behind it anymore. I used to think being really assertive and forward would get me SOMEBODY, but after a one hundred percent failure rate, I've decided to just let it happen."
"I'm sure the skirt has nothing to do with it," Brian teased, tugging at Chase's hem-line.
Chase looked a bit insulted and sulked away around a corner, saying, "You don't have to be rude about it . . ."
Brian and James shrugged as the bell sounded, but I decided to follow Chase. Perhaps the whole cross-dressing thing really had forced him to change and he was having a hard time dealing with it? Anyway, even if he wasn't hurt there were a few things I needed to discuss with him.
Those things had to wait, however, since at the moment he was being held up against a wall by this beefy guy almost twice as tall as me. I kept my back to the wall and peered around the corner. I wouldn't have called attention to the event just yet as it might have been a private matter and I was going to be late for class again. Also, fights in my school tended to attract a crowd that demanded bloodshed. I REALLY wanted to avoid that situation.
Still, we were in an area where nobody could see us which was well because neither of them paid me any attention as I ran through a number of spells I might have needed.
Mr. Beefy growled, "You remember Sammy? You pestered my girlfriend. That was very rude of you."
"Oh, come on, that was weeks ago!" Chase said.
"That was last Thursday!" he yelled and punched the wall hard enough the make me yelp. I didn't think he had heard me though; maybe his anger was too deafening for him.
"He-he . . . I guess old habits are hard to break," Chase said.
"Why are you wearing a skirt anyway?!" Mr. Beefy demanded. "Are you some kind of F-?"
Oh dear, I needed to come up with something fast before—
"You're new here, aren't you?" Chase said.
That totally disarmed my mental processes. What did Mr. Beefy being new have anything to with the (perhaps deserved) beating Chase was about to get? And Chase's question sounded way too innocent to boot. Chase's feet were still dangling above the ground, his scruff expertly hoisted. Wasn't he scared?
"You got a problem with that?" Mr. Beefy said.
Chase looked mournfully down at his dress. "Well I really didn't want to get my new clothes too dirty."
I had to fight myself from laughing! A skinny boy like Chase? Fighting? In a skirt?! Did he know something Mr. Muscles didn't? What was going on?
"That's it!" said Mr. Beefy and readied his fist for a strike.
Since I was too distracted to call up a spell I readied myself for a scream, but it was unnecessary. His fist went right through the space Chase was supposed to be in and into the indifferent wall.
The next thing I knew, Mr. Beefy was on the ground with a Mary Jane- shaped dent in the side of his face. Chase had kicked the guy! I almost didn't see it!!
But Mr. Beefy got up again and rushed him. I was too stunned to do anything but watch. With the dexterity of a professional gymnast, Chase managed to dodge all of the guy's blows. He wasn't super fast or anything, he just happened to be anywhere but where the guy wanted to strike.
Finally, Mr. Beefy landed a punch, right in Chase's eye, sending him flying.
He landed in a dirty puddle.
Chase's body was shaking and he seemed to take a lot of effort to get back up again. He finally managed to prop himself onto his elbows as the big guy staggered over to him.
Mr. Beefy grabbed him by one of his ankles and dangled him up in a way that reminded me of a conqueror taking his enemy's carcass as a trophy and . . .
Sweet Jesus I could see his panties! Chase was wearing panties! Okay, when this was over we were DEFINITELY going to have a talk. I could get used to his cross-dressing but if he was going to wear girl's clothing, there were certain mannerisms to avoid this kind of thing!
Anyway his . . . underwear . . . snapped me back into reality and immediately I drew up a spell for turning people into stone for a few hours. I said the words in my mind, felt the magic flow through me and . . .
And that's when a glint passed through Chase's good eye and he sucker-punched Mr. Beefy in his precious spot.
As Chase fell from his attacker's grip, he used his free leg to flip around and catch Mr. Beefy across his temple, whilst simultaneously allowing Chase to land on his butt instead of his head.
The big guy growled again and was about to get up, however my spell had gone off and had taken affect. Before he could get to his feet, Mr. Beefy had been turned to stone.
I came running to Chase's aid.
"Ohmygosh!" I said. "Chase, are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" he said, smiling brightly at me as I helped him up. His wig was disheveled, parts of his jumper were in tatters and soaked in mud-water, his fake breasts were askew, and his ankle was undoubtedly sprained. His left eye was purple. "I knew you were there, by the way. I appreciate you letting me deal with it on my own, but next time, maybe help me a little sooner?"
"Sorry," I said. "I was kind of stunned."
Chase looked at the new statue. "Is he going to be like that forever?"
"No, just a few hours, then he'll be back to normal. He most likely will chalk it up as a dream too, considering the huge headache he'll have. I just hope nobody will see him change back, though hopefully this place is secluded enough and I didn't know you could fight like that!"
To my further surprise, Chase was actually blushing.
"Well, I've got a few black belts in a few striking and grappling disciplines. Still learning weapons, though."
"What? Why do you think no guy who goes to this school picks a fight with me, even though I've probably hit on their girlfriends?"
"Yeah, look . . . we need to talk—"
"I told you, I'm done with that. Wooing women was the old me. The new me just wants to let things happen."
"That's not exactly what I mean," I said.
"Well what?" he said with big, innocent eyes.
"Um, there are a few things . . . like some mannerisms and things to adopt when you're wearing girl's clothing."
"Oh?" he said as I helped him away from the immobilized Mr. Beefy. "How come? I'm not a girl."
I winced. This was going to be difficult. Chase wasn't somebody nuanced enough for subtlety. Strangely, though, in that instant I felt like I had had a similar conversation with him before . . . kind of like I'd been talking with him for years . . . .
I smiled and said, "Come on, we don't want to get in more trouble. I might know a few healing spells I can try on you and I'll fill you in on things as I do."
"Okay, but could you also use your magic to clean my jumper? It's gotten kind of dirty and it feels itchy. Also, I think one of my boobs is broken."