Free Divided against Yourselves (Spell Weaver) by Bill Hiatt Page B

practice.
    We arrived at school without incident. The fact that I thought that reminded me of how on edge, how tense I was. I had been caught by surprise so often recently that I couldn’t help but keep myself ready for potential combat at all times. Still, being in that state constantly could be pretty wearing, as I was reminded throughout the whole school day.
    The day seemed to drag unmercifully. I was not usually a clock watcher, but how I watched those hands that day! ( Santa Brígida High School was a fairly new facility and could have used digital clocks, but someone evidently thought a more traditional clock would look more at home in the school’s overly ornate Spanish Colonial architecture facade.) Each tick was one step closer to finding out what was bugging Stan, seeing Carla again, putting an end to the Morgan threat once and for all.
    Lunch finally came and…nothing. Stan and I practically always had lunch together, and I had been certain he would try to pull me aside for a talk, but he didn’t show up at all. I tried his cell number, but the call went straight to voice mail.
    “Everything OK, Tal?” asked Dan.
    “Yeah. I just expected to see Stan.”
    Gordy, who very much appreciated Stan’s tutoring, was instantly on high alert. “You don’t think anything is wrong, do you?” The others snickered a little at Gordy’s over-protectiveness.
    “The only thing wrong here,” said Shar with mock seriousness, “is that this cafeteria never serves Persian food.”
    “They might if we had more than one Persian student,” quipped Carlos. “But if it makes you feel any better, the rumor that they serve Mexican food is greatly exaggerated.” They both laughed at their overly bland enchiladas.
    “No, seriously,” persisted Gordy. “Tal, are you sure everything is OK?” His concern was oddly contagious.
    “Let me check. I’ll just connect with him and make sure.” We could be fairly open in our conversation when we had lunch together because we usually ate at a small table in the corner, and the guys’ girlfriends understood that this was “guy” time. Eva, Dan’s girlfriend, knew about our… situation, but the others did not, and we needed to keep it that way.
    I reached out for Stan’s mind and quickly discovered two things: he was very agitated, and he was in Nurse Florence’s office. If he was that troubled, why didn’t he come to me?
    “It’s probably nothing, but he’s with Nurse Florence. I’ll go see what’s going on,” I said as I pushed my chair back and stood, my appetite fading away.
    “I’ll come with you,” said Gordy eagerly, but I waved him off.
    “I can handle whatever this is, Gordy, and if I can’t, I’ll give you a holler, OK?”
    Gordy was clearly not happy, and he seemed about to argue, but, seeing the determined look in my eyes, he sat down reluctantly. If Stan was reluctant to talk to me as it was, bringing Gordy along would only complicate the situation. Not only that, but if I let Gordy tag along, the others might have started to worry, and I would have ended up with all of them following me to Nurse Florence’s office.
    I could feel Gordy’s eyes on me the whole way to the cafeteria exit on the other side of the room. I felt like going back and telling him Stan already had one mother and didn’t need another one, but I reminded myself that he did mean well…and I sort of had myself to blame for his over-protectiveness. After all, it was I who had recruited him in the first place, basically as a body guard for Stan before Stan had his own magic sword and considerably more combat training than he had started with. Technically, Gordy no longer had the specific function of protecting Stan, but he had taken the job so seriously he was having a hard time letting go of it.
    “Hey!” I heard Shar yell, just as I was about to leave the cafeteria. Turning quickly, I saw Shar on his feet, pointing and yelling, “He stole my…wallet!” The other guys were