The Basement - 6
"Wow, Calvin! You're good at this!" exclaimed Eva. Calvin had successfully pulled the pencil out of her hand and into his own at least a dozen times. Mr. O'Leary walked slowly through the room, stopping to give advice or inspiration to each student as they struggled to pull the pencils out of their partners' hands with varying degrees of success. Nathan Gerling's face had turned almost as red as his hair in his attempts to grab the pencil out of Tony Harland's hand. He insisted that Tony was purposely holding on it too tight, but even after he set it on his desk the best Nathan could do was cause it to roll off the edge. At least, he thought that was his doing. Tony didn't fare much better on his turns, although once he was able to pull it out of Nathan's hand and pelt himself in the face with it. His only consolation was the pencil had made contact with the eraser end, so he ended up with just a bit of surprise and embarrassment, instead of surprise, embarrassment, and a war wound from the day's subject.
Eva had not been able to move the pencil the first few times she tried, but between Mr. O'Leary's direction and Calvin's encouragement she slowly began to progress. At first it was just a slight reorientation of the pencil in Calvin's hand, so that the tip ended up facing her. "Try not to think about it with the tip facing you," Calvin had told her. "Imagine it floating upright in space, and slowly pull it into your hand with your mind." This had helped, as her next few attempts she was able to float it out about halfway into the walkway between their desks. She smiled, obviously proud of herself, but most of the smile was directed at Calvin. His heart started to beat hard in his chest, and he was afraid it would start causing small tremors under his shirt. Like he needed more things to be self-conscious about in front of his crush. He tried to shake it off, focusing instead on coaching Eva through her practice, like his mom and dad has coached him through the various exercises he worked on at home.
"You almost had that one!" he told her after she was able to get the pencil to the edge of her desk. A few more tries later and she was finally able to float the pencil over and take it out of the air. "I did it! I did it!" Eva looked like she was about to float out of her seat herself, she was so excited. Calvin smiled at her, then quickly looked around the room so as not to seem creepy. He noticed that Nathan had also been successful, although the graphite marks on his hands and shirt showed that he had a rougher time with it than Eva.
Daniel Byrd, on the other hand, wasn't doing so well. After his talk with Mr. O'Leary he felt pretty good, but in actual practice he had not been able to even shake the pencil. His partner, Edward Branson, held the pencil studiously, but his face had a look of sheer boredom. Edward had already pulled the pencil from Daniel's hands a few times, and now was waiting on Daniel to finish so he could call it a day.
The minute hand crept ever closer to the twelve on the clock face; Daniel was running out of time for the day. He couldn't let his first attempt end in failure. "I know I can do this," he said to Mr. O'Leary. "I just need a few more tries." By now the rest of the students had completed the drill successfully at least once. Even Roger Conway, who looked like he'd sooner break the pencil in half than try and pull it from his partner's hand, had been successful in his attempts, and he was by far the dumbest kid in class. Maybe that spot would be claimed by Daniel at the end of the day, if he couldn't grab that stupid pencil.
Daniel closed his eyes, breathed deep, and concentrated again. All of the other kids were now watching him. He could feel their eyes, but tried to put them out of his head. He imagined the empty room with Edward in a wooden chair in the middle, sleek No. 2 in hand. He held this image in his head, opened his eyes, and reached forward. He just needed a small movement of the pencil in Edward's hand. Just a bit, that's all. Something to reassure him that he was doing it right. His mother had forbade him from doing magic at the house, but he found other times to try and practice. While other kids might have hidden under the covers with a good book, flashlight in hand as they broke curfew for just a few more pages, Daniel hid in his closet, attempting various spells he'd seen on television or around town. Once he'd even been able to stop a moth in mid-flight, although the dim light bulb in the closet ceiling was the only witness to that feat. But here, in front of his friends and classmates, he was powerless.
Moments passed. Endless moments, each one a testament to Daniel's impending failure. The large red second hand on the clocked ticked by, laughing at him with every movement. Soon the bell would ring, bringing an end to his class and the start of his time on social death row. He could feel his face turning red, and his ears became warm to the touch. Daniel didn't care, though. He was fully committed to moving that damned pencil. His head began to swim, but what was that? He swore he just saw the pencil twitch. Just a little more and he could rest. Mr. O'Leary said something, possibly to him. Daniel couldn't be sure, his voice sounded miles away and he had a task to complete. Just a little more...
Edward began to yawn, but caught himself. The pencil flew out of his hand, giving him a momentary shock. It traveled through the air, rotating once before harmlessly striking Daniel in the chest and falling to the classroom floor. It should have delighted Daniel. It did not. His eyes had glossed over a bit, and he began to sway dangerously in his seat. "I did it," said Daniel, almost a whisper. It was the last thing he said or did before taking the pencil's lead, tipped over in the desk and crashed to the floor.
Eva had not been able to move the pencil the first few times she tried, but between Mr. O'Leary's direction and Calvin's encouragement she slowly began to progress. At first it was just a slight reorientation of the pencil in Calvin's hand, so that the tip ended up facing her. "Try not to think about it with the tip facing you," Calvin had told her. "Imagine it floating upright in space, and slowly pull it into your hand with your mind." This had helped, as her next few attempts she was able to float it out about halfway into the walkway between their desks. She smiled, obviously proud of herself, but most of the smile was directed at Calvin. His heart started to beat hard in his chest, and he was afraid it would start causing small tremors under his shirt. Like he needed more things to be self-conscious about in front of his crush. He tried to shake it off, focusing instead on coaching Eva through her practice, like his mom and dad has coached him through the various exercises he worked on at home.
"You almost had that one!" he told her after she was able to get the pencil to the edge of her desk. A few more tries later and she was finally able to float the pencil over and take it out of the air. "I did it! I did it!" Eva looked like she was about to float out of her seat herself, she was so excited. Calvin smiled at her, then quickly looked around the room so as not to seem creepy. He noticed that Nathan had also been successful, although the graphite marks on his hands and shirt showed that he had a rougher time with it than Eva.
Daniel Byrd, on the other hand, wasn't doing so well. After his talk with Mr. O'Leary he felt pretty good, but in actual practice he had not been able to even shake the pencil. His partner, Edward Branson, held the pencil studiously, but his face had a look of sheer boredom. Edward had already pulled the pencil from Daniel's hands a few times, and now was waiting on Daniel to finish so he could call it a day.
The minute hand crept ever closer to the twelve on the clock face; Daniel was running out of time for the day. He couldn't let his first attempt end in failure. "I know I can do this," he said to Mr. O'Leary. "I just need a few more tries." By now the rest of the students had completed the drill successfully at least once. Even Roger Conway, who looked like he'd sooner break the pencil in half than try and pull it from his partner's hand, had been successful in his attempts, and he was by far the dumbest kid in class. Maybe that spot would be claimed by Daniel at the end of the day, if he couldn't grab that stupid pencil.
Daniel closed his eyes, breathed deep, and concentrated again. All of the other kids were now watching him. He could feel their eyes, but tried to put them out of his head. He imagined the empty room with Edward in a wooden chair in the middle, sleek No. 2 in hand. He held this image in his head, opened his eyes, and reached forward. He just needed a small movement of the pencil in Edward's hand. Just a bit, that's all. Something to reassure him that he was doing it right. His mother had forbade him from doing magic at the house, but he found other times to try and practice. While other kids might have hidden under the covers with a good book, flashlight in hand as they broke curfew for just a few more pages, Daniel hid in his closet, attempting various spells he'd seen on television or around town. Once he'd even been able to stop a moth in mid-flight, although the dim light bulb in the closet ceiling was the only witness to that feat. But here, in front of his friends and classmates, he was powerless.
Moments passed. Endless moments, each one a testament to Daniel's impending failure. The large red second hand on the clocked ticked by, laughing at him with every movement. Soon the bell would ring, bringing an end to his class and the start of his time on social death row. He could feel his face turning red, and his ears became warm to the touch. Daniel didn't care, though. He was fully committed to moving that damned pencil. His head began to swim, but what was that? He swore he just saw the pencil twitch. Just a little more and he could rest. Mr. O'Leary said something, possibly to him. Daniel couldn't be sure, his voice sounded miles away and he had a task to complete. Just a little more...
Edward began to yawn, but caught himself. The pencil flew out of his hand, giving him a momentary shock. It traveled through the air, rotating once before harmlessly striking Daniel in the chest and falling to the classroom floor. It should have delighted Daniel. It did not. His eyes had glossed over a bit, and he began to sway dangerously in his seat. "I did it," said Daniel, almost a whisper. It was the last thing he said or did before taking the pencil's lead, tipped over in the desk and crashed to the floor.
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