Can You?

~*~𝒮𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒽𝒶~*~

My green eyes throw a panicked glance as the timer ticking away on Ms. Kara’s desk. It’s practically a bomb: when it runs out, we have to turn in our final exams for biology. 

Three minutes. Three minutes ‘till the test is over.

I hastily jot down my name down at the top of my paper. It’s fast but neatly stenciled down: 𝒮𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒽𝒶 𝒯𝑜𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓈. I wouldn’t dream of inking a messy signature: I’m a star student, after all.

Oops. Sorry if that sounded braggy. (Wouldn’t want to be a Todd Flint.) But it’s true—I've been at Hawkings since kindergarten. Eight years of being the perfect pupil at my private school. 

I check my answers on my test. Yep, yep, yep; all are the answer I meant to write down. They seem right to me, anyways.

I observe the rest of the room. My whole class, about ten kids, is still scribbling away. Besides Rosalee Adams—she’s done, her paper on her desk, her gaze fixed on something out the window. I stifle a snort. She’s probably zoned out staring at the bushes or something. 

Rosalee is weird. Really weird. Our whole school knows it. She’s very antisocial—which I normally wouldn’t judge, seeing I’m an introvert myself. But she literally never interacts with anyone if she doesn’t have to. 

She shows up at school and is gone the instant the bell rings. She disappears in the woods framing our school during recess, something I can’t understand why the principal would let her do. She’s constantly murmuring under her breath and acting like she revealed a secret anytime somebody says something to her while she’s doing it. She’s like the modern, real-world version of Luna Lovegood—just, she isn’t magic.

The weirder thing about the weird girl is that she’d be normal if not for her quirks. Rosalee has messy strawberry blond hair falling to her waist—hair I would die to have replace my plain brown locks. She has wide blue eyes and there’s always a faint smile on her lips, like she’s aware of something everyone doesn't know—another odd trait. Rosalee and I are neck-to-neck in academic skills, too—she’s the only one in the grade as smart as me.

Next in my line of classmates I’m observing is Todd Flint. He’s a tall braggart who has enough academic brains to get into this school, but he’s still pretty dumb. For instance, he thinks people care when he remarks about his muscles.

My eyes meet my friend’s heads, hunched over their desks a row in front of me. Melody and I have been best friends since kindergarten, and this year, Asher, an eleven-year-old, skipped two grades and joined our class. He, Melody and I are now a trio of close friends.

“DOOOOO! DOO-DUL-DEE-DOOOO! DOO DOO!”

I sigh and watch Ms. Kara turn off her alarm clock. It has the most obnoxious ring tone and I’ve hated the stupid timer since I first heard it “doo”.

“That’s it!” Ms. Kara exclaims. “Time’s up, everyone!” She claps her hands. “Pencils down, papers turned over, and seats pushed in. You guys go straight to the cafeteria, okay?”

Everyone chants, “Okay!”

I stand up and meet my friends at the door. 

“Do you think you did well?” Asher shrugs at Melody and me as we start walking to lunch.

“I dunno,” Melody smiles. “I think I got the tibia and the fibula mixed up on that bone question.”

I laugh. “Happens to the best of us.”

Asher smiles. “Seriously, who names these things?” He thinks for a moment as we step into the lunch line. I see Rosalee disappear down the hall. She brings her lunch instead of buying it. “I’d remember bones better if they were named, I don’t know…Jeff. And Fred. And Bob.”

“Girls too,” Melody elbows him. “There could be bones named Sasha and Jillian and Arynn and—”

“Hush!”

Melody sends me a side-eye. “Did you just command me to be quiet?”

“Yup.”

“I will never shut my yapper!” She pumps her fist in the air.

We all laugh and sit down at the nearest empty table after we’ve received and paid for our food.  

“Truth or dare?”

I stare at Asher. “Truth.”

“Lemme rephrase that: dare or dare?”

I snort. “Preeeetty sure it doesn’t work that way. But dare.”

“Very wise choice,” he winks. “Now, listen: you have to do this, okay? No chickening out. But it’ll follow the Rules of Dares, don’t worry.”

I nod. “Sure.” The Rules are awesome. Dares have to be doable, they can’t be dangerous and/or get you in trouble, and lastly, they can’t be embarrassing. No, like, going up to your crush and saying “You’re a donkey, sir.”  

“So…what?” Melody prompts.

Asher grins evilly. “Samantha, you hafta go up to Rosalee and ask her why she always sneaks to the forest at recess. Oh, and why she’s always muttering stuff.” 

“No!” I explode. “No, nope, no way, NO!”

“Why?”

“Because—because…I-I—” I sputter, “NO!”

Asher and Melody stare at me, then burst into a fit of giggles. “Seriously, Sammy, why not?” Melody says, acting like she’s genuinely curious.

“It’s against the Rules!” I protest.

Asher snickers. “Not at all. You have to do it.”

I huff and turn my back on my friends.

A second passes and then… 

“Don’t be a chicken,” Asher and Melody singsong in unison.

I sigh and turn around. “Fine.”

The bell rings, signaling that we’re allowed to go start recess if we want to. My eyes are trained on Rosalee, who’s quietly picking through her lunchbox, alone at the table closest to the door. As the bell rings, I watch her face light up. She gets up and races out the doors.

I sigh again and start following her, wondering what the heck I just got myself into.

~*~ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕖~*~

Finally! FINALLY!

The sound of that bell is music to my sick-of-chatter ears. Spending fifteen minutes inside a room with almost a hundred kids is bad enough. Spending that time right before recess, the best part of the school day? Pure torture.

I don’t care about the playground. I’m aching to practice my powers, and the forest is the only location private enough to to do it.

As the bell rings, I hop up and push the doors open. Without looking back, I sprint towards the forest.

My feet pound on the squishy fresh soil as I pass the playground. Some monkey bars, benches, and pull-up bars for people like Todd. I don’t care.

I relax as I enter the woods. Trees line the footpath only one pair of feet has ever tread on—for the past something-years I’ve been walking this way to the clearing. 

Eventually, I’m there. Pine trees tint the air with their crisp scent and I get into position in the small clearing. I focus on a pile of pine needles on the ground and thrust my hands towards them, then up. The thin leaves mirror my movement, jumping up into the air. 

I concentrate and lift them higher and higher, until the bale is positioned a good five yards above my head. I drop my hands to my sides and smile as it rains pine needles.

I laugh as I tumble to the ground. People think I’m weird, looney Rosalee Adams, but honestly, I’d rather be an outcast of true weirdos and have powers than be a normal old human who fits in.

“Rosalee?”

I jump and madly glance around. Then I see her.

Samantha Torres is standing where the clearing and my path meet. Her fingers nervously tap against her jeans and her curls of dark brown hair whip around her neck as a gust of wind pushes us both.

“Um, hi,” she says.

I shoot to my feet. What had I done? “Hello. Um, how much did you see?” Straight to the point, yeah, but I needed to know.

“See what?”

“What?”

“Huh?” She squints.

I laugh nervously. Thank god she hadn’t seen my powers at work. Even her being here made me a bit jumpy. Especially interacting with her.

I got my powers at birth, and accidentally killed my mother with them. Me and my dad lived near my school, but he didn’t know that I had magic. Nobody did. And I wanted to keep it that way.

I’m careful, but just careful enough. People think I’m weird, and sure, I am. I constantly mutter spells and stuff under my breath, and while I’d rather kids not notice, it’s in my first language—Elvish—so I’m fine. Same with sneaking off towards this clearing: people notice, but they don’t care.

Having Samantha here…yikes. I’m probably going to slip up at some point.

“Nothing,” I smile, trying to pretend like nothing happened. “Why are you here? Are you allowed to be here?” I grin as she opened her mouth to respond then shuts it. She definitely isn’t allowed—the only reason I am is because I mind-controlled Principal Pelegreen. I hate mind-controlling, but I needed permission to go into the woods.

“I’m here because of truth-or-dare,” Samantha admitted.

“Yeah? Why?”

“See, uh…” her voice trails off.

“Samantha—”

“Please,” she cuts me off, “Sammy or Sam.”

“Maybe Sammy,” I smile, “but not Sam. I know a guy named Sam and I hate him. He’s a dumbo who brags too much.”

Sammy laughs. “Sounds like Todd Flint.”

“You know him?” I don’t know why I’m surprised by this, but I am.

“Well, we’re not friends or anything, but yeah. He’s in my class, after all, so I’ve ‘known’ him for years. You should, too. Although I guess you can be in a guy’s class and never talk to him….” she stares at me apologetically. “Oh, geez, sorry if that was rude.”

“No problem. I just don’t like being around people that much.” They’re annoying, they talk way too much, and I just don’t like people. 

“I like people, but I’m still introverted.”

“Me too, definitely,” I smile.

“Yeah,” Samantha nods, “I can see that. Me, I’m up in my room a ton reading books. It’s actually funny because on tons of quizzes, it’s like ‘how many books do you read a year?’ Typically, the highest answer is fifty. And I’m like, nooooo, I read at least a hundred novels a year…”

Wow, Sammy pretty much just described my life when I’m not practicing my powers. “Yes! Exactly! Me too! What books do you like reading?”

“Well,” she ponders, “Keeper of the Lost Cities and The Hunger Games are my favorite series, but only because I can’t list every single Rick Riordan book. Rick is my fav author, ‘cuz of how funny he is, but those other series are still amazing.”

My jaw literally drops. “He’s my favorite author, too!”

We grin at each other profoundly, and I think, Wow, who knew? Having a conversation and not wanting to run off screaming? Dang, Rosalee, this is crazy!

“So, uh, anyways,” Samantha clears her throat, “I’m here for truth-or-dare. Asher asked me to ask you why you always come here, and what you murmur under your breath.”

She stared at me expectantly.

“Ummm…”

“Please tell me! I swear I won’t spill!”

I sigh. I never dreamed of telling anybody about my powers, but Sammy and I are becoming fast friends. Besides, it’ll feel good to get this weight off my chest. “Okay. But promise not to be weirded out or anything.”

“A weird explanation for a weird thing? No problem.”

“So…” I hesitate, “I have powers.”

Her face perks up. “Whuh?”

“I have magic. Powers. Magic powers.”

“What’s your power? Invisibility? Telekinesis? Super-strength? Flying? Mind-read—”

“All of them,” I blurt. “See, uh…I don’t just have a power. I have magic. Magic in general. So I can do a lot of things at different times. Sometimes I can teleport things. Other times I can walk through walls. My most common power is telekinesis, and the rarest is flying and mind control.”

“You’ve flown?” She says, her eyes stretched wider than I could’ve thought. “And mind-controlled people? Who?”

I shook my head. “Sorry, not saying.”

“Okay. Can you explain a little more?” 

“I got my powers at birth. I don’t know where they came from, but I like them. The end.” There’s a moment of silence, then… “Are you freaked out? Or do you think that’s cool?”  

“ARE YOU KIDDING!”

“Huh?”

“That’s awful! Really weird! Uugh, I hate you, you little alien! You’re a threat to society with those powers! I’m calling the police!”

I gasp. My worst fears are coming true.

~*~𝒮𝒶𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒽𝒶~*~

  “Ro-Rosalee? You okay?”

The girl has been standing in the same position for a good twenty seconds, her eyes glazed over and her mouth frozen in time.

I walked over and gently shake her. “Rosalee! Snap out of it!”

“DON’T!” She yells, coming to life. She backs up then glances around. “Wait, what? What just happened?”

“You blanked,” I say. “I told you about the dare and asked for you to tell me about it, then you froze up. Are you okay?”

Rosalee seems a little dazed. “Um, yeah.”

She shook her head, presumably to clear it. “Wow. Okay. Geez. I imagined it. I imagined it. Samantha isn’t going to call the police. She didn’t find out about my—”

“What?” I cock my head. “About your what?”

She seems to have forgotten I was there. She jumps.

“Sorry,” I breathe as I help her up from where she stumbled backwards.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m just a little jumpy.”

I nod then recall what she had said. “When you blanked, why did fake-me call the police? And what do you ‘have’?”

“You called the police because of what I have. You got freaked out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. I made it all up. You’ve just been standing there.”

I wonder what Rosalee ‘has’. She’s weird, but I have to revise my impression of her. Weird isn’t bad. She’s just a normal human being who goes into the woods. She isn’t a lunatic. She’s my friend.

A whistle tweets in the distance, a sharp, ear-spilling shriek that echos over to us. “Time to go in,” I say at the shrill noise.

We start walking back towards our school when Rosalee stops.

“Rosalee?” I say. “Let’s keep going.”

“No. Wait. Do you still want to know about what I constantly say, why I’m here in the forest every recess?”

“I…guess?”

“Because I can tell you.”

“Um…” What am I supposed to say in response to that?

“Wouldn't want to lose that dare, would you?” She laughs, but it’s really shaky. She seems nervous as her hands fidget with one another.

I quickly say, “Oh, it's okay. Asher dared to me to ask you—he didn’t say you had to answer.”

“No… I want to tell you. I’ve been keeping this to myself for way too long. I need to tell somebody. Please, Sammy. Can I tell you?”

I’m taken aback. “Yeah, sure.”

We start trotting again. Nobody’s on the playground when we emerge from the woods. We keep walking in silence until we’re right outside the school door.

“Ready to tell me yet?” I say, turning to Rosalee’s face.

“More than ready. One thing first, though.”

“Yeah?”

Her blue eyes glitter and a smile crowns her lips. “Can you keep a secret?”