Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Finally, progress!

But unsurprisingly, Misty didn't want me to drop her off at home, insisting on walking through the Saturday night crowds. 

That kiss had been a big step for her, so I had fully expected her to give me a lot of crap on the drive. Insults, etc.

More than usual, I mean.

But she didn't. 

Once the song had finished, and she wasn't in the mood for humming to the next one, she made no sound.

I could have asked her some more questions about my magic. It was in our agreement. But I thought the last thing she needed was to feel nauseous after everything else that had happened. 

Still, her new tepidness sucked. I would've much rathered she was hurling abuse at me. Now I didn't even know what she was thinking. 

On the other hand, I'd be a fool to assume that all it would take was one kiss to undo her Misty-ness.

I could still taste the soft wax of her lipstick, the taste of her spit. I glanced over at her, but she was looking out the window, so I was just greeted with long hair shining against the outside road lights and that wide-brimmed hat. 

Still, it was to be expected. She didn't know how to express herself in a way that wasn't destructive. She probably thought this was the best way to act, to keep herself from saying something she might regret.

So when she finally said, "Here, please," as if I were a taxi service, I was more than happy to oblige. 

And as she climbed out, she poked her head back in and said, "Nine a.m. on the dot, every day except Sunday. Don't be late."

I scoffed, but I still wouldn't miss it for the world.

"You owe me some extra magic lessons," I said. "We did the practical, but we never got around to the theoretical. History. All that stuff."

She looked at me, squinting through that heavy black eyeshadow, perhaps browsing through a choice set of insults to pick the best one.

Then she said, "Sure."

I laughed, shaking my head at her. 

Fucking Misty.

But then, as she left and I was driving off, I saw her running back to the car. 

She tapped on the window, though I couldn't read her expression.

I rolled it down

"Remember," she said, "no magic, not until our last lesson."

"You got it," I replied and rolled the window back up.

 

***

 

Sunday was a day of rest in all senses of the word. 

I lounged around in my sweatpants, watched anime, and played online games with my buddies. Oddly enough, I never desired to tell them about my experiences. I would've thought I'd want to show off. I mean, I could do magic, for crying out loud! 

But no, that was for me and me alone, and that's how I knew—and felt great about—that I wasn't like the magi lot I despised.

Like the duo I saw fighting that day. One of them would've bragged and dismissed my friends as puny mortals undeserving of his friendship—or something like that. 

I also started to get some doubts about Misty's hot-and-cold routine. Was it worth it? Did I just need to get laid? 

So I spent some time swiping on a dating app or two and surprisingly got a few matches, cute girls, too. There was this ginger one with pigtails in her photo and a party-animal chick wearing high heels and tight, shiny dresses. My chats with them were different from how I'd expected myself to be. I was less saying 'Hi, how are you?' and wondering what to say, but instead telling funny jokes and anecdotes that they seemed delighted by.

I was anything but delighted, though. I knew one couldn't exactly feel things for a picture on the screen they just met, but I especially didn't feel much.

I told myself that was beside the point. I wasn't on the app to catch feelings but to get laid and get her out of my system. 

That night, I cooked a nice meal of steak and fries and resisted the urge to use my magic to light up the stovetop. 

"Man," I mused, "I'm gonna save a fortune on my water bill. I can just make my own water to do the dishes with."

Make my own water. I chuckled. Sounds gross.

 

*** 

 

The next days working with Misty were not what I'd call uneventful, but it wasn't like sparks flared and explosions boomed. 

I decided to keep my pride and not chase after the night queen. She knew what I felt, and I wasn't gonna lower myself to get yelled at by someone just because they couldn't figure out their issues. 

And I knew Misty liked me. Any fly on the wall would've confirmed it. Regardless, I would not waste any more time chasing her.

In fact, I thought she might've been right after all. This was a business partnership, nothing else. 

So I punched up her flier, making it look awesome. I also sorted out her online store and researched search engine optimization. All that stuff so people would come across her store even when they weren't specifically looking for it.

And it worked. She got sales, and I got paid that crazy wage for working retail. Hah, I was working retail! The one thing I thought I'd never want to do again. Turns out it was just the wrong kind.

Misty never stopped surprising me with her outfit choices. One day, she came in wearing tight black jeans, revealing her crazy legs in full silhouette. They were like pins until they got to her thighs, where they got a bit thicker, and then suddenly, boom, dat ass. 

She matched it with a Green Day hoodie. The graphic was one of their albums from the nineties, apparently before they sold out, so she said. 

Oh, and as if in direct opposition to my liking of her black lipstick, she started wearing blood-red.

Her eyeshadow held a hint of maroon. 

I would've been foolish to assume she was wearing all these crazy get-ups for me. After all, the first day I'd shown up to the store, she wore those jean shorts that were more like panties.

She did keep her promise to teach me about magic. 

She usually did so as she cleaned the store—manually. She explained she didn't like to use wind magic for dusting because it was too efficient. I wondered how that could ever be a thing.

Still, I suspected she just wanted to keep busy so she wouldn't idle around, giving me an opportunity to be romantic or whatever. 

I had no such desire.

A lie. Obviously I desired it. 

Who wouldn't? 

It was self-respect I possessed too much of, and if I hadn't before, now I'd regained my sanity I would for sure no longer be barking up that tree.

Yeah, right. 

Shut up, I told myself.

So yeah, back to what she taught me. 

"Magic," she said—through a suppressed gag as nausea set in, "is in the air like ore is in the ground. We're all tapping from the same energy. Even though you can't sense its weight on you, it's like you're carrying it every time you do it, more and more the more spells you do before recovery."

It sounded like the speed force to me, but I didn't say that. I didn't get any joy out of annoying Misty anymore. It was no fun when she was so apathetic about everything these days. 

She really had become like Wednesday. Or more like Daria.

I asked her how one hits the gym, and she said without a hint of scolding me for coming up with such an analogy, "Doing magic. Lifting weights. It's the same thing. The more you do it, the better you get."

I asked her why I never saw her do much magic, and she just shrugged and explained she wasn't out to battle people. She just wanted to be left alone, and her level was more than enough to deal with creeps in the night and stuff like that.

"What if those creeps were magi?" I asked, wrapping up one of her books and writing the address on the top.

"I said it was more than enough to deal with creeps in the night. Magi are rare. Dude, we barely ever see them outside of this store. How many have you seen in your life?"

Misty continued to buy me bagels every day for lunch.

Also, to make good on her promise—or perhaps it was an effort to pretend everything was normal and she hadn't turned from night queen to ice queen—we spent our lunch breaks playing beat 'em ups in the dark backroom. 

It was eerie in there, full of old boxes and dusty books, with lanterns on top of them in what was sure to be a fire hazard. 

I didn't argue at first. It was nice to get a change of scenery from the front of the store. After a while, I was pretty sure I was gonna go screwy if I had to spend another lunch break in there, so I resolved to do something that was sure to piss Misty off, but I didn't care. What didn't piss Misty off? The first chance I got, I would move the TV to the front of the store.

But before then, I bit down on my tongue and mashed the button, getting my anger, stress, and other emotions out on the mobs on the glowing screen that illuminated our faces.

Oh yeah, and Misty had, in her infinite wisdom—more like fear of what might occur—decided that we needed a break from the barn. 

I immediately called bullshit and said she was fleeing from the agreement.

"But," she said, in an accidental imitation of Darth Vader, "the agreement has changed."

"Pray I don't change it further," I said in mockery. 

"I'll give you a pay raise; will that shut you up?"

"Don't be a bitch. Tell me when we can train."

"A few days, okay? I just need a few evenings off. My life doesn't revolve around you, you know."

I didn't respond, slamming my thumb into the button. 

That night, I did end up going out with the second girl from the app—the party-goer-looking one. I thought that between her and the cute ginger, she wouldn't mind if we had a one-night stand with no strings attached.

When I met her at a loud bar, and we had a few drinks, I found even the increased inhibitions from the alcohol couldn't get me to go through with the act. 

I wasn't a teenager anymore. I knew that empty one-night stands just make you feel worse after. 

It's only good when it means something.

She was giving me the signals, touching my arm here and there. At one point, her foot stroked against my calf, accidentally, of course. 

But I wasn't feeling it at all. She was a nice girl and even had some depth beyond being a party girl. She said she studied English literature at school, with a minor in creative writing, despite everyone telling her it was a bad idea. 

It helped her get a great job in marketing. 

She only looked like an influencer, and she was fantastic on paper, but I just wasn't feeling it.   

So I paid for the drinks and said goodbye while she gave me this look of, 'What the hell? I'm gonna put out, and you're rejecting me?'

Or maybe I just read too much into it, as I often did. 

Either way, I was out of there, back home to the sad comfort of my apartment.

***

 

And that was my life. 

Regardless of the moody boss, I was working a fulfilling, satisfying job, with no two days the same.

And hell, even with her mood swings, she bought me lunch every day and we'd play video games.

Heh. Funny how things work out. 

I met lots of magical folk during my days too. Some of them were not that bad, just regular guys or girls who weren't into fashion, wanting to pick up presents for their kids or some of the history books Misty had.

We got more nerdy guys in, too, wanting to check out her video game collection. There was an odd moment when Misty didn't want to be parted with Final Fantasy IX on the PSX. She held it close to her chest.

That day, she wore fishnet stockings under a low-cut v-neck, showing off her ample cleavage, with long outward arms almost like wizards' robe sleeves. 

She paired it with pointy black boots and, of course, her fishnet tights. 

Misty looked more like a witch than ever. 

Whispering quietly, I casually reminded her that she ran a business, not a museum. The games were priced higher in-store than they were online from any other seller. She'd be a fool not to sell it.

She closed her eyes as if taking in my breath like I was magic she was trying to absorb.

"That's because I paid a faith healer to fix the cracks in the case," she said.

She got a little closer to me while she kept glancing at the guy as if he would run out with it, but he just stood there admiring it.

Her perfume enveloped me, and her hip brushed against mine. 

What the hell are you playing at? I thought. Seriously, I hate you. You're the worst.

You are reading story Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way at novel35.com

I moved away to the register, where I asked the guy buying the game if he wanted to pay by cash or card. 

Meanwhile, Misty stood beside me, peering at her Gameboy. Was she gonna accuse me of touching it again? I hadn't done so once.

I said a cheerful goodbye to the guy who was looking with glee at the game.

As soon as the door shut, Misty asked, "Who's Candice?"

"Candice?" I frowned. The girl from last night. "Oh."

 I came over and realized she wasn't looking at the Gameboy, but at my phone, which was face up, showing the notification.

Candice: I had a great time la… 

The message got cut off in the notification box.

"Well," I said, "I lost my best text buddy, so I had to find another."

"I don't care," Misty said softly, then yawned. "Five-thirty can't come soon enough."

I let out a sigh. "Unlucky for you then." 

She turned and scowled at me, putting her hands on her hips as she often did.

"Because we're training magic tonight," I concluded.

"Says who—"

"Say's me." 

My god, we're like children. 

The doorbell jingled as it opened, and a woman said cheerfully, "Hello."

"What!" we both snapped at her.

I did not see Misty's reaction to the woman. I was only aware of my own.

She was tall, but not awkwardly so, perhaps about five-seven or eight, and she was skinny, like a supermodel. 

Her bright blue denim dungarees and open-toed shoes suited her perfectly, as did the bright pink spaghetti strap top she wore behind the dungarees, which cut off far above her hips, showing a lot of skin.

Bright blond hair, stopping at her chin, was curly and vibrant, with pink streaks of color in it to match her top.

I walked around the counter and, feeling Misty's stare burn into my back, walked over to the woman, who smiled at me. 

Up close, I could see the light sparkle of her lips from her glitter lipstick. It was subtle but noticeable, as was the pink blush on her cheeks. 

"How can I help? I'm Pete," I said.

She flashed a warm smile and held her hand out. I noticed her fingernails were painted bright yellow. 

"Sophia," she said. Her voice was soft, friendly, and as sunny as her demeanor. "I'm working on a project for my students, and I'm looking for a particular book, but the library's out! I saw on your website that you had it."

I gave Misty a raised eyebrow look to suggest, See how amazing I am for your shop? 

Misty scrunched her nose, and I could've sworn a flash of lightning sparked under the counter.

"Follow me," I said friendly to the woman, "I'll show you."

"I love good customer service!" she said.

Then, oddly, her cheeks went bright red as if she thought she had said something dorky or embarrassing. 

Don't say an innuendo, Pete. Be cool. Don't make a dumb joke.

Luckily, Sophia spoke again. "I didn't mean to interrupt," she said quietly. "Seemed like you and your…girlfriend were in the middle of something."

"Oh no, it's fine. And she's more like a sister," I replied. "Siblings fight all the time, don't they? We'll get right back to tearing each other's heads off as soon as you leave." 

Sophia gave a little laugh at that. It was warm and inviting.

We looked over the books together while she bit her lip and browsed, not picking anything in particular, risking glances at me. 

"Those bananas make me laugh," she said. 

"I don't think laughter is what they're going for," I replied.

"What do you- oh," she laughed, touching her chest, drawing my gaze to it.

They were petite and perky. Because she was so skinny, it would've been weird if they were any bigger. They suited her body perfectly.

We talked a bit more about the items, and the conversation wasn't what I'd call flowing or natural. It was kind of stilted as we both took our time trying to find the right thing to say to one another and fumbling, yet there was something paradoxically comforting about it.

It was like we were both on the same page in our awkwardness, so we canceled each other's out.

"So, do you teach at the academy?" I asked.

"Mmhmm!" She bounced on the front of her feet excitedly. "Non-magi relations." 

"Interesting. About how magi and non-magi can co-exist, I assume?"

Misty coughed. A warning to keep my mouth shut? Did she think I was stupid?

"Yeah, that's right," Sophia said. "I suppose it's not so interesting."

"It's even more interesting than you realize," I said. "You're talking to a non-magi who works with magi! You couldn't have found a better person to talk about it with."

"Oh, really?" She turned to face me, and I noticed the blue of her eyes.

Her eyes did not change color, seemingly at whim. They didn't go from hot to cold like a certain someone's personality. They were only warm blue, focused on me, giving me their full attention.

Then she said, "I bet that's a fascinating story. Some of my students think it's a waste of time and that all your…folk, hate us all. Excuse me, I don't mean to be offensive."

"Not at all, and it's not like they're wrong nine times out of ten—excuse me, I don't mean to be offensive either."

She smiled, fleshing brilliant white teeth. I noticed her gums were a little red, as if she was an obsessive brusher, trying to do everything she could so that people liked her. 

God, what was with me and my psychoanalysis? I've been spending too much time around Misty. Not everyone has deep-seated issues to uncover.

"It's an awkward rickety bridge," Sophia said. "I'd like to mend it a little, though."

Misty mumbled, "And she's a poet too."

Sophia looked down, perhaps hurt by Misty's very audible comment. 

I shook my head at Sophia, hoping to convey that she shouldn't worry about Misty.

"We're mending it right now as we speak," I said. 

She touched my arm, blossoming into joyful laughter. "We are! Look at that!"

She picked up the book she was looking for, said, "Perfect," and held it close to her chest, turning to face me. 

"So," she said. "This is the book I need. Thank you!" 

Then, before I could say anything, she walked over to the counter and passed it to Misty.

I glared daggers at Misty, willing her not to be rude. Luckily though, Misty was polite—well, polite for Misty—as she asked for the money.

Boy, it was a lot.

Then, Sophia returned to me, the book under her arm, one of her dungaree straps falling off a flawless, smooth shoulder.

She didn't say anything, just smiling nicely, waiting for me to.

"It's a pity you can't find that stuff on the internet," I said.

She laughed, even though nothing I said was funny. 

Bingo. A signal there.

"I'll walk you out," I said.

"Awesome!" She beamed at me, and I walked to the door, opening it for her and then testing a touch on her back as if I was guiding her out. She smiled at me when I did so.

Signal number two.

I glanced at her breast pocket, noting a pen slotted in there, nerd style. 

"You wouldn't happen to have a bit of paper to go with that pen, would you?"

"Why? To give you my number?" she asked, raising eyebrows. 

Shit, was I being presumptuous?

"Yes," I said simply, trying to look taller and casual yet impressive at the same time, whatever that looked like.

"I'd love to," she said, beaming, then her cheeks went red in a way that had nothing to do with her makeup. 

She pulled the notepad out of her chest pocket and looked at the store window as if to ponder leaning on it.

"Turn around," she said to me.

I did as instructed, and she put the notepad on my back, scratching the numbers and tickling it.

Then she ripped it off and handed it to me. 

"Text me later," she said, then headed off into the warm sun.

I looked at her but had to avert my gaze from its brightness.

I headed back into the store with my note in my hand.

"She was cute," Misty said.

"She was," I replied, not looking at her.

"So, you gonna go on a date?" 

"I might."

Misty picked up her Gameboy and turned the sound on loud, not looking at me.

"You should," she said.

Shit, I thought. I know exactly what's going to happen.

I sighed and said, "Don't do it."

"Do what?" She scowled at me.

"I know you're gonna do it."

"Do, what?" she demanded, slamming the Gameboy down.

"Show up at my apartment after the date, confessing your love, explaining that you don't know how to express your emotions and you're sorry, but you're ready for me now. You'll say you finally realized when it was too late that you were about to lose me, and you couldn't let me go and bla bla bla."

Misty raised her eyebrows at me. "As if." She picked up the Gameboy again.

She's pretending to be nonchalant. I can just tell. Look at the way her hands shake on that stupid Gameboy.

"Don't do it," I warned her. "For one thing, what if I bring her back to my place?"

"You're dreaming. As I keep telling you, I am not interested in you whatsoever." She put down the Gameboy. "Go on the date tonight. Text her now and ask her." 

Will you just make up your mind? Are you playing it or not?

I looked at the note. Even her handwriting was pretty.

"I can't," I said.

"Why can't you?" she demanded.

I folded up the note carefully and put it in my pocket, reminding myself to put her number in my phone before I lost it. 

"Because we're training magic tonight."

You can find story with these keywords: Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way, Read Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way, Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way novel, Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way book, Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way story, Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way full, Mastering Magic — Screw the Academy, I’ll Master Magic My Own Way Latest Chapter