Chapter 1: Disastrous Trick

I am!

I am not my heritage, the only biological heir to the Bramwell-Gates Arts Institute!

I am not who they want me to be, a respectable socialite pushing my family’s legacy like my adopted cousin, Becca!

I am not who they say I am, a geek, nerd, loser, or spoiled brat!

I am Billy Bramwell-Gates, a superior archmage wizard! Magic rages inside me, but my magic is somewhat dormant in this world. Here, I can only express my true self in The Lords of Omni role-playing game or as a street magician roaming the campus with my best friends, Myles and Gene. But I feel it in my core: one day I will be the most famous, most powerful magician there is.

“Billy, snap out of the hyperfocus before you trip over your feet.”

“Billy’s comedy gold when he gets lost in his mind, Gene.”

My thoughts were in a place where I had often gotten comfortably lost. If I were more of a loner, I probably would have happily resigned myself to living there, but I was lucky to have a great circle of friends. So I needed to snap out of it and join them.

“Did either of you find any candidates for the magic tricks? Listen, today, let’s drop the tricks and do real mag—”

Before I finished my sentence, Myles, ever an impulsive spirit, grabbed the first set of people walking in our general direction—a normie couple, absolutely no potential superfan in either of them.

Regardless of my head-shaking disapproval, Myles ran his hype train, introducing me as the street magician extraordinaire that I am. Immediately after Gene had gotten the couple to sign a few waivers, he started recording video on his phone for our InterWeb channel: It’s Magic! I Ain’t Gotta Explain Sh#t.

Cloaked in my hoodie and face mask, I imagined I appeared super mysterious and ultra-cool to the couple. I couldn’t stop myself from fixating on the girl’s eyes as they flickered with curiosity. I glanced over at her partner. Typical, the guy brimmed with doubt and postured, eager to mock my skills.

Sidebar: I love the female spirit. It’s drawn to magic and mystery. I am confident that the dull, aggressive, suspicious male spirit drained the magic from my world. If the female spirit ruled the world, true magic would still exist. But enough with distraction!

“Showtime!” Gene cued.

I stilled my mind and prepared myself to be the vessel of what I do best.

But first, card tricks. Normies need the cards. All good magicians know build-up is everything.

Not even a minute into my act, I had impeccably called it. The guy started spewing adjectives that detracted from my performance.

Doody, weak, pathetic, lazy—each word flew out of the guy’s mouth in some variation. I must admit that sleight-of-hand garbage is not my forte. It’s not magic, it’s trickery. After my fourth trick, the glow in the girl’s eyes diminished. Nevertheless, I knew the day’s escapades were about street fails, so I performed accordingly.

As it turns out, failure gets more views on my channel than real feats of the imagination.

“Hey, Billy. I think we got the footage that we needed.”

Although Myles couldn’t see my expression, our rapport made him utterly aware that I wasn’t backing down.

Myles unzipped his backpack and readied a bottle of water. In an instant, I picked up what he was foreshadowing. No, it was not a confidence-killer. It meant safety first.

“Yeah, Billy. We have enough for today’s shoot,” Myles nervously squeaked.

But I was determined to see the wonder in the girl’s expression.

“Keep filming, Gene. File this one under ‘kickass!’ Forget fails! Now it’s time for the real thing. Magic time!”

Movement—an exquisite form of hand ballet. Thought—an unclouded vision of what I want to transpire. Manifestation—making the natural order SUPER.

My hands’ fluidity was unmatched. In one swift movement, a purple and white flame ignited across my fingertips. Curiosity and a heightened sense of wonder reignited in the girl. But it wasn’t only her; I had everyone’s attention.

Then it happened!

Little did I know at the time that the disastrous event that would happen in seconds would place me on destiny’s road.

Something squishy, almost marshmallow-like, bumped me from behind and edged me forward. The fire I’d had under control danced off my hand, onto my shirt, and then onto the girl’s designer purse.

“No! No! No! No!” were the only words I could muster during the train wreck.

My mind only processed a few images and sounds in the next few moments: screaming: a burning purse on the ground, and Myles dousing more water on it than on me.

I was still batting at the fire as he poured out the last drop of liquid. Then, dramatically, the guy pushed the girl behind him. If you asked me, I would say it was the first time he had the opportunity to be her knight in shining armor.

In my confusion, just on the edge of my peripheral vision, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She repeatedly said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Then she faded out of sight.

“Idiot. Are you trying to burn us to death? I ought to knock you on your ass!”

I didn’t even have to see who had spoken those words. It was pretty evident. Despite the level of danger the guy’s words exuded, putting out the final flame that ate at my shirt had my full attention.

“Dude! I think you should walk that back! You know who he is, right? Bramwell-Gates Arts Institute! Billy is his first name. Bramwell-Gates is his last.”

Dammit! I hated it when Myles used my name to spook the students, but it was effective against the bullies. Most effective.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” I exclaimed as the couple walked away.

“Gene, let me see the video.”

For some reason, Gene was hesitant to turn over the phone. I immediately knew why when I pressed play.

Barely, I mean, hardly any of my glorious manifestation got recorded. Yet somehow Gene managed to capture almost every inch of the scantily clad body of the girl, who I now understood had ass-bumped me out of my magic.

“Gene, not even Weird Nikki can fix this bad camera work in the edit.”

“As an editor, Weird Nikki would love this footage. That was Jana, freaking thicc Jana, Assy Jana, dude.”

“Jana… I may have a class with her.”

“I think you would know if you have a class with this.” Myles grabbed the phone and pushed a zoomed-in cleavage shot in my face.

Right at that moment, it hit me. “Class! I’m late.”

The cross-campus hustle to class sucked. Settling into the back row of Mr. Marvin’s Morals Sensitivity class, I was fairly sure I looked like crap and smelled like sweat and a burnt offering.

As I walked in, the tall, pencil-thin professor dressed to the nines said nothing but flashed a wispy smile, continuing his lesson.

“Zoophilia is derogatorily known as bestiality, sometimes under the codename ‘wagging the dog.’ Most focus groups have shown men favor sheep’s wooly affection and women crave a canine’s tender touch.”

“Preferably with a jar of peanut butter.” Why did it have to be the girl sitting directly beside me with that little tidbit?

“Good job, Nancy. Someone’s been studying. I think you earned a few marbles toward pizza day.”

Mr. Marvin coolly reached into his blazer pocket, pulled out a handful of marbles, and inserted them into the nearly full glass jar. All I could think was yuck. I never understood why almost everything Mr. Marvin did appeared sexual.

But then, suddenly, as if struck with a crazed inspiration, he excitedly exclaimed, “I was saving this for later, but…”

Mr. Marvin pulled a large suede bag out of the podium.

“I’ll fill the jar if anyone can guess which animal has genitalia that looks and feels like a human woman’s.”

The chuckles and whispers were almost instant.

A distinct, cretinous laugh pulled my attention toward the row in the middle of the classroom, where my natural-born enemy and his underlings were seated.

RJ, JR, and He Whose Name Is Not Spoken—or, more commonly, The Nameless One—were having more fun with the question than it deserved.

RJ and JR were dressed eerily similarly in school-branded clothing and yelled one guess after another.

“Monkey.”

“Dolphin.”

“Excellent guesses,” pronounced Mr. Marvin over the room full of laughter. “I may regret this, but go ahead, Dane.”

The Nameless One lowered his hand, stood up, and slid on his designer sunglasses. Everything with this guy had to be flashy.

“Easy one, Mr. Marvin. I’m no genius, just the lead quarterback of our scholastic all-star championship squad. Go Game Rods! Booyah! Like I was saying, I’m no genius.”

With the smallest huff under my breath, I slipped out, “You got that right.”

Like a panther staring down its prey, The Nameless One glared at me with fiery intensity. I’d barely heard my voice. How could he?

“That waff belongs to a sea cow—or Billy’s girlfriend, if he had one.”

The classroom launched into hysterics. I sank almost under the table as I focused on an invisibility spell.

“Mr. Shaw, take a seat. Billy, sit up! You’re disrupting the class.”

Me! Me? I’m the one disrupting the class?!

I wanted to shout it across the room, but I sat up and stayed quiet.

“Good job, Dane. You won the class a pizza day, and these…” Mr. Marvin reached into his bag and pulled out a plush sea cow.

“This is a dugong, a sea cow—the siren of the seas. During the heavy days of Greek sea travel, making love to these wondrous creatures was acceptable. The songs and beauty attributed to the mermaids originated from the pleasure men found in the sea cow during their lonely years on the oceans. Please take enough for the row and pass the bag back.”

I watched as the bag lazily climbed up the rows of the lecture hall. Its movements were a distraction from Mr. Marvin’s salacious monologue. I wanted no part in handing out the “mermaids,” but it was my job as the first person in the row. My gut instincts were on fire. I knew something embarrassing was on the horizon, but I powered forward.

The plushies were soft and velvety to the touch. Despite my over-worrying, I passed out the anatomically correct dolls without a hitch. At least, until I reached for the girl’s next to me plushie and my finger lodged in it. The more I wiggled inside the bag, the more the suction tightened.

“Okay, Billy. Give me my cute plushie sea cow.”

My eyes grew large. My nerves locked. I couldn’t take my hand out of the bag. And that’s when she did it for me. She tugged the bag and revealed my shame, then let out a yelp, and the next thing I heard was…

“Look, Billy’s all up in the sea cow’s junk!” The laughter was even more relentless than before.

“What are you doing to my poor, sweet plushie?”

I flailed my hand, tried to sit on it, and put it behind my back, but the damn girl was relentless. She wanted that sea cow and molested me until she tugged it off.

The bell rang. Sweet mercy.

The students gathered their items and moved for the exit. Being one of the final students to leave, I heard Mr. Marvin’s last words of the day.

“Be sure to study chapter eight on the increasing use of insects during sexual activity and its moral implications.”

As soon as I crossed the exit, I hit the brick wall known as The Nameless One. I’m six feet tall, but I had to look up into his eyes as he towered over me.

“I heard your mumbles in class, dork.”

A wave of annoyance and dread flooded through me. Not this bull crap again.