Hurting & In Love

My magic sputters, although I feel it on my fingertips. I try again, but it does not travel beyond, instead pressing against my skin making me itchy and ticklish all-at-once. Peeved I try once more, trying to materialize a flicker with no luck. I drop my hand by my side, curling it up into a fist and digging my nails into my palm. The half-moons of discolored indented flesh a painful reminder of my failure.

“Any luck,” the trainer asks, my eyes are drawn to her asymmetrical high ponytail and it takes me a beat too long to respond.

“Nope,” I reply, “But I can try again.” I lift my arm again, slightly bent at the elbow and concentrate.

Lu shakes her head, “That’s not necessary. The others are struggling as well. You all need to rest.” Her eyes soften, and she reaches for my still outstretched hand. She halts suddenly, her eyes falling upon the marks on my palm, the half moons now faded.

“Did you do that?” she asks concerned. She holds my hand palm side up and rubs her thumb gingerly across my hand.

“It’s nothing,” I reply, tempted to pull my hand away, “It wasn’t intentional.” The marks will disappear soon, but Lu pours over my hand as if I were badly hurt. They are losing their strange purplish hue reverting back to my skin tone, the half moons barely visible.

“Okay,” she replies with a sigh of relief, but she continues to caress my hand. Sometimes I forget that Lu is not much older than me, that she’s my friend first and foremost. Maybe even more than that. When she’s in trainer mode she seems to be a wholly different person, so distant. I search the training facilities for any prying eyes, but thankfully find none. The others have no idea about Lu and I. I’m not sure if I want them to know about us, I’m not sure if there is even an us.

“Let’s go on a walk outside,” she says, intertwining her fingers in my own.

We walk hand-in-hand, until I grow self-conscious and loosen my grip. She lets go in that moment and comes to a standstill. I have no idea why we have stopped and I turn towards her, questioning why our walk has been cut short. Her eyes stare back at me, immense sadness consuming them. Self-consciously I stare away, pretending to be captivated by the trees, embarrassed to have seen her so vulnerable.

Lu lets out a sigh. When I glance back at her, her eyes are more guarded.

“We’re all hurting right now,” Lu says, “I’ve been a mess the last few weeks. Ever since we lost Sandra, my world has imploded.”

I fidget, wanting to keep walking but Lu remains rooted staring up at the sky. I did not know Sandra, not like the others. But unlike me, Lu and Sandra were practically sisters. I barely knew her and yet I feel a lump in my throat at the mere mention of her name.

“I think magic responds to our emotions, our mental health,” Lu continues, matter-of-factly, “And so it’s natural that we struggle to access our magic after losing someone that meant the world to us.”

“Your magic is gone as well?” I ask surprised, never expecting to see Lu struggle with her magic. She is the most powerful enchantress I have ever met

“It’s not gone,” she replies, “The magic will always be there. Nothing ever just disappears, just as no one ever just disappears... I still feel like a part of her is with us.”

I want to argue with her, we’ve lost so many of our own, we’ve lost so much. Isn’t that what it meant to disappear? Do we not disappear in the crevices of the silence, as our voices continue to be ignored. Instead I hold my tongue. This is neither the time or the place.

“I was thinking we should have some kind of ceremony,” Lu says, her voice raw, “I know that there was already a memorial--” She sputters out, unable to finish what she wanted to say. In that moment, I put my arm around her and draw her into a hug. She cries into my shoulder, and I hold her as tight as I can.

“I’m here for you, Lu. And you know the others are as well, right? I know you think that because you’re in charge you have to be strong all the time, but there’s no need for that.”

“You know I love you, right?” Lu replies pulling away from our hug and instead placing her arms on my shoulders, her voice so small for a second I think I misheard her.

“I love you too, Lu,” I reply, almost too scared to stare in her eyes.

“Don’t tell the others you saw me cry, but you can tell about this” she adds with a wry smile, hesitating before kissing me. She stops midway and I cover the rest of the distance, meeting her in the middle. For our first kiss, it feels strangely familiar. And yet it feels wholly new as well.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Lu says, “And I’m done waiting to kiss you.”

“Can I kiss you again?” she asks, sounding suddenly timid. I nod.