We were studying the human body, the alignment of ourchakras. We even studied physics and calculus. Days turned into weeks,weeks into months. Three months in, I finally pushed my quarter acrossthe table. Panting and wiping the sweat from my forehead, I cheered.Marcus gave me a high five. He slid is quarter across the table thatmorning. Macy was getting close with hers.When we went home that night, we found ourselves discussing the onlytopic worth discussing: magic. Macy was arguing with us over the use ofpsychic pronunciation. "But if we can think it, then we don't have tosay it out loud!" I shook my head. "But we still have to pronounce theword correctly. Even mentally." She wagged her finger. "But if I'msummoning the magic from myself, I know what word I'm trying to say,regardless of how I may say it."Marcus rolled his eyes picking up his box of takeout. He said, "That'stoo many extra steps. You might as well still learn it properly." Thesedebates happened more and more. We argued. What had I done? What was my real purpose in writing the letter? How would Danny react to my confession? Would he be sorry that he'd left me alone the past four summers while he went off to play in the woods with his buddies or would he use the letter against me? Had I really thought that the letter would solve anything? Did I want it to?I felt that I wasn't totally to blame for what had happened? Danny had gone away and left me alone for ten weeks every summer, leaving me to wait for an occasional letter or a rare phone call.I was forbidden to call him. Danny didn't take his cell phone into the woods, saying it would be a distraction; they relied on radios to communicate. And contacting him at the camp was impossible because he said he only went there to sleep and did not want to be awakened.Meanwhile, I checked the mailbox in front of our house every day and waited for him to call. What did he expect me to do? I wanted to blame him, at least partly, for what I had done.True, I was.
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