Some Kind of Magic

My French teacher was beyond surprised to learn that I had finished all of the homework she had assigned me, because apparently she had had a lot of students who went through a suspension and just slacked off the entire time. They didn’t do one piece of work that they were required to complete during their time off, but this just proved that she had never taught me before. The idea of not having my projects done by the time I got back to school utterly terrified me. I didn’t want to end my suspension and then receive another one right off that bat; although, I knew that would happen but it was the thought that counted.

Lucy helped me out when it came to the notes they had taken but I had missed, so while I was copying what she had wrote out for me during our work period, it gave me a chance to get to know her a little bit better. But talking about herself turned out to be the last thing on her mind.

“So you hang out with Dylan a lot, right?” she asked me and I looked up.

“Dylan Sinclair? Yeah, a fair bit,” I replied curiously. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just . . .” Her cheeks burned bright red and it was then that I realized she was one of the many girls also interested in him. And it made me grin. “I was wondering if you could maybe . . . I mean, I know it’s not my place, considering we’re not best friends or anything . . . and I don’t want to step on any toes but—”

“Would you like me to bring you up in a conversation?” I offered quickly, to save her from her nervous rambling. She let out a deep breath and I laughed. “It’s no problem. I’ll try my best.” It was adorable how shy and cute Lucy got while she talked about him, and now that I thought about it, I actually judged myself for not seeing it sooner. Dylan had been the first person she told me about when I first met her and she was giving me the full blow-by-blow on the school’s It-boys and girls, and he also got the longest description. That was why I was closer to him than I was to Elsie or Robbie—I felt I knew more about him just by what Lucy had said.

“I probably don’t have much of a shot,” she sighed. “You’ve seen the other girls around this place; they’re rich and beautiful. I’m just plain. I’m blah.”

I put my hand on top of hers. “Stop that. You’re not blah.”

“I’ve liked him for a while now,” she admitted, “but I don’t think he even knows who I am. I’ve just kind of admired him from afar since grade nine. Do you think . . . well, you know him better than I do, and are probably on par with his brother”—I took her pause as an opportunity to bark out a laugh. As if I would ever know Dylan as well as Robbie did—“but do you think that he could ever like a girl like me?”

Dylan had told me all about his last girlfriend, the one he had fallen head-over-heels for but wouldn’t admit to it, and she and Lucy were nothing alike. She had been outgoing, fun and crazy, and a little over-the-top from what I had heard, whereas Lucy was quiet, shy and liked to keep to herself. But maybe that was the type of girl he was looking for. I really didn’t know if Dylan would be interested in Lucy that way, but maybe he could do with the change from all the socialite bitches around this place. I couldn’t force him into a relationship with her, but I really did like Lucy, so I could always just give Dylan a little nudge in the right direction.

I simply smiled at her and lifted a shoulder. “Maybe,” I said. “If you introduce yourself, I’m sure you’ll have a better shot than if I just kept saying your name while I talked to him. He’s really easy to be around so don’t feel too intimidated.”

She grinned. “Thanks, Isabelle.”

“You’re welcome.” As I focused on my work again, I took a sudden painful stab to my chest as if I was making a big mistake by agreeing to this. I didn’t know what it was about, so I just ignored it and continued writing down the note.

Weird.



Lunch time was extremely boring without Dylan and Robbie there. We always missed them when they left the province to play hockey and bloody up other angry teenagers with sticks. Broderick definitely felt awkward being the only boy at the lunch table, so we didn’t blame him when he stood up and excused himself to go sit with some other guys from his art class. Emma called them “annoying art nerds” and said that she hoped Broderick wouldn’t turn into one of them. I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by it, but apparently their part of the school’s social ladder was to sit around with their noses in the air and make comments about people’s facial expressions in snotty voices. The idea of hanging out with people like that nearly had me floored, but it was just unbelievable to think there was actually a whole group of kids at our school who dedicated their time to doing such a thing. It was ridiculous.

I couldn’t picture Broderick doing such a thing though, because he was too similar to the twins to be a snob. Plus, we wouldn’t allow him.

Student council was cancelled because Christopher had broken his leg so after school, Emma, Elsie and I were walking out to the buses when I spotted Preston standing by his car, twirling his keys around his finger. I was tempted to go say hello to him, until I saw him standing with Mr. Bishop, engaged in a heated discussion and that immediately turned me off of the idea.

“Whoa,” Elsie gasped, her eyes growing wide. “Who’s that hot guy?”

Emma looked at her like she was out of her mind. “Ew, Elsie. That’s disgusting.”

“How?”

“That’s Mr. Bishop. You can’t even tell from a distance? Open your eyes, girl,” she said obviously.

Elsie was confused. “What? No. Ew. That is disgusting. I’m talking about the guy beside him,” she said, nodding to Preston. “He’s young. Do you either of you two know who he is?”

“That’s Preston,” I spoke up. “He’s an old family friend. Apparently he’s looking for a job here as an English professor.” I lowered my voice when I saw Mackenzie approaching us and I watched her with my eyes narrowed. “I think he might replace Mr. Bishop. Preston said something about him being under investigation.”

Elsie smirked. “He deserves it.” Preston must have sensed that we were watching him because he looked over suddenly and lifted a hand to acknowledge us. Then I noticed that he wasn’t just waving at us, he wanted us to come over to him. Elsie took our wrists and immediately pulled us there. Luckily by the time we reached him, Mr. Bishop had parted ways with him and was walking to his car. He barely even looked at me in class, so it was no surprise that he was trying to avoid any encounter with me. I didn’t blame him; I felt just as awkward as he did.

“Hello girls,” Preston said, smiling pleasantly.

“How was your first day?” I asked him.

“Interesting. I’ve never had so many teenage girls staring at me before. It would have been handy in high school but now, it just creeps me out. I feel so old,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair.

I laughed. “You are old,” I joked.

“Hey now.” He glared. “I’m not even thirty yet.”

“Still flying solo?” Emma asked him.

“Definitely not.” He held up his hand to show the wedding band around his finger and his mouth spread widely across his face. “I’ve been off the market for about two years now. Hey, do you guys need a ride home?”

Elsie said, “I didn’t know teachers were allowed to do that.”

“Well you’re in luck,” he told her, holding opened the back door. “I’m not a teacher.”

She looked over her shoulder at me and waggled her eyebrows before she climbed in with Emma. I joined Preston in the front seat and pulled my seatbelt on. “Thanks, Preston,” I said to him. “You saved us from an hour’s trip on the school bus. You have no idea how crazy it is on that thing.”

He laughed and pulled out of the parking lot. “Okay, I’m older than you but I’m not that old. I did go to high school, remember.”

I smiled. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well driving you guys isn’t a problem at all, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, maybe you could stop by my house for a bit and say hello to Blade and Christabelle,” I suggested. Since he couldn’t look at me in the eyes since they were glued to the road, I had to turn to him to notice the confusion on his face.

“Why are they living at your house?”

“Their place is undergoing some renovations, so they’re staying with us until it’s finished. To be honest, I have no idea when that will be,” I said, biting my lip. “But anyway, you said you hadn’t seen them for a while. I’m sure they’d be ecstatic.”

He nodded. “Yeah, all right. That sounds great. Whose house am I going to first?”
“Mine would be good, please,” Elsie said, leaning forward between the two front seats of the car. “It’s the closest.”

“Okay, just tell me where to go.”

“So where did you teach before?” Elsie asked him, and this prompted Emma to sit forward as well. She was probably intrigued because Preston was good looking, and she wanted to know as much as she possibly could about him. After all, if he were to teach at her school and become her professor, she’d have bragging rights that she knew him better than anyone else in the class. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, she suffered at the mercy of attractive older men, and Preston was no exception. Neither was Broderick, and I just knew he secretly got her all hot and bothered. She just wouldn’t admit it.

“Nowhere actually. I went through a few career changes and only just got out of teacher’s college. It’s been a pretty bumpy ride when you have no idea what you want to do with your life,” he answered. “I live by the motto, ‘those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach’. English was one of my better subjects so I may not love my job, but at least I mildly enjoy it.”

“You’re lucky,” Elsie said. “It takes teachers forever to get into Westwood, since it’s so legendary—turn left here and then stay straight until you reach the top of the hill.”

“What other careers were you considering?” Emma asked.

I could see an amused smirk pulling at the corner of Preston’s mouth. He was clearly enjoying the attention but their interest in his life made me roll my eyes. My friends were love-crazed maniacs.

“First, it was a chef, and then an author—which admittedly, worked out fairly well for me since I’m a published writer now—but then I settled with teaching. This job would definitely suit me,” he said. “I love English, and I love working with high school kids. They’re very knowledgeable . . . although, I could do without the attitudes.”

“We could all do without the attitudes,” I mumbled.

He laughed. “So what’s up with that Bishop guy, anyway? He’s the one I’m supposed to shadow but I don’t really notice anything all that wrong with him, except for the fact that he’s not the best at connecting with his students,” he said. “Do you guys know anything about him?”

I cast a quick glance at Emma through the rearview mirror and caught her already staring at me with slightly widened eyes. We were both thinking of the same thing. “He’s a very . . . unique teacher,” I said. “No one really understands him.”

“Personally, I don’t think he has any problem connecting with his students,” Emma said and I coughed loudly to remind her that Elsie didn’t know about Mr. Bishop and Mackenzie being involved. Preston’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Uhm, it’s nothing, right Em?” I said, slapping her on the arm and widening my eyes so she got the point. Emma gasped and gripped where I had hit her while Elsie just sat quietly in her seat, completely mind-boggled. “What Emma means is that he tends to pay more attention to certain students; mostly the ones with . . . valuable assets.” I added that last part for Emma’s benefit, and also for myself because I needed the laugh.

Emma snorted, humored by it like I had hoped.

“So he’s one of those teachers, huh? Picks favourites?” Preston asked and I shrugged.

“Something like that.”

Preston pulled up in front of Elsie’s house shortly after that and she climbed out, but not before she thanked him for the ride and told him how lovely it was to meet him. Then she scurried up her driveway and into her house to work on her philosophy homework. That left Emma and I alone with Preston and he immediately swiveled around in his seat so he could face us both.

“Okay, I’m not dumb or anything. What’s the deal with Mr. Bishop?” he asked. “Something’s up and you might as well tell me because I’m going to find out for myself if you don’t.”

Emma and I looked at each other, not sure what to do. I had a feeling I would do a better job at wording it than she would, so I went for it. I cleared my throat and shifted to cross one leg over the other. “We believe that he may be . . . involved with one of his students.”

Preston’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“Well, we can’t be sure,” Emma cut in. I looked at her, alarmed, and wondered what she was thinking. Of course we could be sure. We saw them sucking face with our own eyes. “We’re just suspecting that that’s the situation. And it’s not like we can tell anyone, because really, who would believe the word of two teenage girls with a vendetta for the person we think he’s fooling around with?”

Now I understood.

Preston looked horrified and blown away at the same time. He pushed a hand through his hair and sat back in his chair. “Wow,” he gasped. “If that’s true, then you guys made my job so much easier.”

“Please don’t say anything though,” I pleaded desperately. “We don’t want to cause any trouble. And we’d really like to avoid getting our faces punched in by Mackenzie.”

“Who’s Mackenzie?” he asked and then it dawned on him. “Wait, is that the girl who had you pressed up against the locker this morning?”

Emma sat forward even more. “What?”

“Can we just forget about it? It’s only a hunch,” I lied.

I could tell by the expression on his face that he wanted to ask more questions but instead, he turned in his seat and nodded. “All right,” he agreed. “But just so you know, because of this, I’ll be paying a lot more attention to him.”

I nodded. “Whatever works.”

He drove Emma home next and she thanked him for the ride, then climbed out and told me that she would be calling me tonight. She was expecting an explanation for what happened between Mackenzie and I in the hallway before class, but the story was going to be short since there wasn’t all that much to tell. Nevertheless, I agreed. When we arrived at my house, Preston and I thought up a funny way to surprise my brother and Christabelle with his arrival so I made my way up the front steps and went inside, closing the door behind me. Chris sat in the living room reading a pregnancy book while Blade was just walking out of the dining room with a bowl of grapes in his hand.

“Hey. You’re home early,” he observed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I got a ride from an old friend,” I nodded, taking off my shoes. “So guess what; there’s this new teacher at my school and man, is he ever hot. Seriously, Blade. Mm!” I nearly peed my pants right then and there trying not to laugh, because not ever had I grunted over someone being so over-the-top attractive. Blade groaned and closed his eyes.

“Isabelle, I really don’t need to hear this,” he said, shaking his head from side to side.

I laughed. “Oh, relax. I’m just kidding around. Anyway, I thought he looked kind of familiar when I met him today but I’m sure you’ve seen him before. Maybe you could tell me who he is?” I asked and pulled open the front door. Preston stepped inside and Blade was so shocked that he dropped the dish on the floor beside his feet. Luckily it was plastic, so it didn’t break, but the noise alone alerted Abel that something had fallen and he came charging down the stairs to eat at the grapes.

Christabelle sat up when she heard the clatter, lowered the book down to her lap and looked over the back of the coach. “What is going on—Preston!”

Blade laughed and engulfed his friend into a tight man hug. “It’s so good to see you! What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Boston.”

“No, I moved months ago,” Preston smiled. “Apparently you’ve been busy too.” His eyes shifted over to Christabelle, who grinned and pushed herself off the couch. She waddled over to embrace him as well and kiss him on the cheek. Seeing the three of them together again made me smile. It was amazing to think that they had been friends for so long and were still so close. I hoped my friends and I were like that a few years from now.

“You’re staying for dinner,” Blade demanded. “Isabelle’s cooking.”

I looked up at them from my spot on the floor where I was trying to get Abel away from the grapes, and furrowed my brows. “What?”

“I’ll help, of course,” Blade said. “But you’re better at it than I am.”

“Well thanks for volunteering me,” I said sarcastically. “It’s not like I have homework or anything.”

“Great! Then let’s get started,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

There was very little I denied my brother, and this was just another one of those times.