A Firecall

For Dark Kizuna:

I think Landon is pretty cool, too . . . he knows friendship should never be taken lightly

Landon scratched his hand through his hair, knowing it needed a trim and not really caring that much. His eyes were focused on his chemistry homework. It was only two days until their final exams before winter break, and he had a lot of studying to do. The academics had slipped quite a bit this summer, what with the Red-Hot problem, the getting beaten half to death, the finding out his former best friend had only faked his suicide . . . god, it had been a rotten summer. He'd been spending a lot of time on his website designing, so he was still a little behind, and now he only had two days to get it together. Luckily, Stace was too freaking responsible to let his grades slip, even though his summer had been crazy, too. Not even constant soccer practices and games got in his way.

"Hey, how do you do the conversion for number thirty-two?" Landon asked Stace, who was hunched over his calculus textbook. "Hey, Stace." Rolling his eyes, Landon threw his pencil at him.

Stace looked up in surprise. "What was that for?"

"Nothing, you're an idiot. How do you do the conversion for number thirty-two?"

Stace sighed and put on a why-me? face. "You look at the instructions on the side of the page right next to the problems," he said, and looked down again.

Landon glanced at his textbook. "Oh. Right. Hey, give me my pencil back." Stace ignored him. "Stace, pencil." The pencil beaned him in the forehead. "Ow!"

"Well, for God's sake, I have homework, too, you know."

Five minutes later, Stace sighed dramatically and threw his calculus book halfway across the room. "I hate you," he called after it.

Landon gave him a puzzled look.

"Never mind," Stace said, crossing his arms. "I don't think I've gotten a problem done in like, ten minutes."

Landon looked down at number thirty-two, erased, re-erased, and written again enough times that the paper was almost worn through.

"We're supposed to be the smartest kids in the state, aren't we?"

Stace snorted. "That's what they keep telling me."

"Maybe we're too smart," Landon suggested. "This is so beneath our amazing brain power that it bores us."

Stace pushed up an imaginary pair of glasses and sniffed, "so in conclusion, I believe we can assume the hyperparticle continuum—"

"The what?"

"Nothing, you're just such a geek."

"Geek?"

"You're a computer nerd, anyway."

"And you're a lazy ass who isn't doing his homework."

Stace shrugged. "Neither are you."

"I know, and we'll never get into college if we fail to turn in a complete textbook assignment that we have three of every week," Landon said in a falsetto, fake-panicked voice.

Stace grimaced. "You sound like Autumn."

"You think?"

"How's she, anyway?"

"How should I know?"

"Aren't you dating her?"

"You're kidding, right? I broke up with the bitch months ago when she switched schools."

"You did? Why?"

"Um, you did, too, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So you probably remember that for all her supposed intelligence, she's got enough empty space in her head to play tennis?"

Stace shrugged, and then he grinned slyly. "Great ass, though."

Landon chuckled. "Her tits were better."

"This is true."

"Still, mostly useless."

"She's going to turn into her mother someday."

"Scary, isn't it?"

"Her mom never did drugs, though," Stace said thoughtfully. "Her mom had a pretty nice—"

"Shut up now, Stace, or I swear I'll . . . do something very bad."

"I'm shaking. Please don't hurt me."

Landon made a disgusted face.

"Hey," Stace said, as if something were suddenly occurring to him, "what are you doing for college, anyway?"

"Where did that come from?"

"Your Autumn impersonation."

"Oh. I'm going to a technical school. What else?"

"Which one?"

"Haven't picked, yet. You?"

"I'm seeing who'll give me the best scholarship. Hopefully a soccer scholarship."

"Wait, don't tell me. You're majoring in international business?"

Stace grimaced. "I'm kind of starting to get over the dad-clone thing. I might do justice studies. Maybe even go to law school."

"You want to be a lawyer?"

"I don't know," Stace sighed irritably. "Every time I think about college, I wonder what kind of stuff I could do, you know, magically. Working for their state department."

"Oh, right," Landon said uncomfortably.

Stace gave him a slightly disgusted look. "Dude, you watched us save Edward's life a few months ago. You still don't like magic?"

"I don't not like it," Landon tried to protest, but when Stace withdrew his wand and starting conjuring up little tongues of fire around him, he jumped out of his chair and retreated a couple of steps. "Knock that shit off, Stace," he snapped.

Stace shrugged and put the wand away. "I figured you'd at least feel pretty superior about being allowed to keep your memories of everything. You, me, and Edward are the only ones at the whole school who even know what Red-Hot was, now."

"And the principal," Landon added. "God, Stace, think about it for a second. Those guys came in and wiped memories. That is scary shit."

Stace frowned. "I guess. But you can put the memories back, you know. My tutor told me there's a way to break that enchantment, if you have to. I don't think he knows how, though. You have to be pretty good."

"I just don't like the idea of having someone mess with my mind."

"Well, we don't, unless we have to. Don't you think these guys are better off not remembering? Besides, you have to be good at it to do it right. I couldn't do it, at least not yet."

"Shawn could," Landon said, and then he suddenly was very much done with this conversation and picked up his chemistry book again. Shawn could, and that had scared Landon. Shawn could, and he'd gotten himself in a ton of trouble because the only person he'd found to help him was a couple of demented criminals.

Still, it was Adam and Garrett that had ended up in juvie, not Shawn. And while he and Stace might miss Adam, it was the kid's own damn fault for getting involved in something that stupid. Shawn, though . . . what choice had he really had? Landon was really glad those two wizards, whatever their real names were, had taken Shawn with them, even if it meant he'd never had a chance to talk to him. It was better than sitting in there with Adam. They'd been really lenient on Flip, too, for some reason. She had to go to therapy, but she'd been going to that for years already. Her parents got divorced over it, though, or something weird like that. Flip hadn't really explained before she and her mom had moved away.

Stace was disgruntled about the forced return to his studies. "What?" he asked Landon of his sudden return to silence.

"I dunno," he mumbled. "I kind of miss Shawn, that's all." He could see in Stace's eyes the big question—why in hell would you miss that delinquent?—and the answers were all there at the tip of his tongue. The camaderie thing is nice, Stace, but you still have no clue what my life was like before I moved here. You're fun to hang out with, Stace, but you're still a preppy bastard. You're a wizard, Stace, but I was already told what I needed to know about magic. You're okay, Stace, but you're just not Shawn, all right? All Landon actually said was, "You never really knew him, but he was pretty cool."

Stace accepted that, and got an expression on his face that was reminiscent of painful constipation. "I kind of need to apologize to you. For coming between you guys, I mean. Last time I tried to, you were all doped up in the hospital, so I don't think you remember. Anyway, I feel really bad about it. You're right, I never knew Shawn, and it's because I was acting like a dick. I'm sorry that Adam and I isolated you guys so much. I probably made you feel like you have to, but you don't have to justify it to me. If he was your friend, then you had a reason for it, and that's fine."

Landon stared at him and wondered when the boy had gone all girly on him. Still, at least he'd said it. Landon wasn't about to try to judge if he meant it or not, because the acknowledgement was good enough. "Thanks, Stace. Now shut up with the mushy crap and tell me how to do number forty."

-o-o-o-

A week later, the pain of missing Shawn still wasn't letting up. Landon and Stace hung out with Edward and Kendall—which of course made the rest of the school wonder when those four got to be friends—but it wasn't the same. They were friends to hang out with, but not to talk to. Not that you could spend every day with and not be completely fed up with them. Not that totally got you and the way you thought about things. And then Landon was disgusted with himself. The kid had moved to another country, not a freaking separate planet. What was preventing him from calling Shawn and trying to talk to him, other than his own cowardice? And Landon didn't like to think of himself as a coward. So he decided to call Shawn and push the confrontation they'd been needing to have since he'd disappeared a year and a half ago. The only problem was being a little unsure of how to do it. From what Stace told him, Shawn had moved to a place that didn't have telephones. The person who would know how to contact him was the guy who'd invited those undercover wizards over—Peter, Landon remembered. This presented the problem of needing to know how to contact Peter, then he remembered that Edward talked to him sometimes, so that was simple enough.

When they were sitting in the hallway outside the classroom for their final exam before break, Landon threw a wadded-up piece of paper down the row of students at Edward, whose head was bent over his book. It hit him on the arm, but Edward didn't even look up.

He's used to it, Landon thought, and felt slightly guilty even though he'd never acted like that. Some kids just thought they were funny.

"Hey, Pat, nudge Edward for me."

Pat did, and Edward looked up in surprise. Pat nodded at Landon.

"I need to talk to that Peter guy." He eyes the row of listening students and said cautiously, "Do you have his phone number?" but he said it while making a face to indicate that he knew Peter didn't have a phone number.

Edward nodded agreeably.

"After the test?"

Edward nodded again, and they went back to their last-minute cramming. Once the test was over (everyone feeling good about it, since they were all bright students), Landon caught up with the other boy, who was prepared with a note.

My mom has the fireplace set up for calls at our house so she can talk to her sister. You can use it to call Peter.

Landon had no idea why he would being using a fireplace to make a phone call, but he was afraid to ask.

"Is that how you usually talk to him?"

Edward shook his hand, smiling sarcastically, and handed over another note. Peter doesn't know sign language. I just write to him.

"Oh," Landon muttered, feeling stupid. "Yeah."

With another sarcastic smile, his eyes glinting with mischief, Edward wrote, And I use an owl to deliver the letters.

Landon rolled his eyes. An owl. Of course. What else?

You'll probably have to leave a message at his office or something. Why do you need to talk to him?

"Oh, I just . . . need to ask him how to call Shawn."

Surprised, Edward quickly scribbled, You can just call Shawn from my house, you don't have to talk to Peter for that.

"You know how to call Shawn?"

I know how to call Harry's office, and Harry will make sure you can get in touch with him. Are you coming over now?

"Oh," Landon said, feeling a little off-guard, "No. Not today. Later. Thanks, though."

So much for bravery.

-o-o-o-

"So, um, do you guys have a winter break?" Landon asked. This was incredibly awkward. He had his head stuck in the Cavanaugh's fireplace, and Edward's mother wouldn't stop shoving cookies at him.

"We have one right now," Shawn replied, not looking a lot more comfortable than Landon was, even though he apparently didn't have to stick his head into anybody's chimney to talk. He was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, in a big room made of stone. There were tons of pictures on the walls behind him, and unless Landon was going crazy, the pictures were moving. "But I'm staying at the school until me and Hagrid leave to go visit his brother."

"Who's Hagrid?"

"He's the guy I kind of work for. He's huge, he says his mom was a giant, but he's pretty cool. He takes care of the animals and the school grounds, and I help him out whenever I'm not in class."

"Where's he?"

"He's out feeding the baby thestrals."

"The what?"

"They're called thestrals. They are so cool. They're like these giant horse skeletons that fly. I know it sounds like some lame creature somebody made up for EverQuest or something, but they're seriously not that bad. Harry said he and his friends flew all the way to London on some thestrals once."

Landon was curious about Shawn's enthusiasm for all this. He'd expected to find him with his usual chip on his shoulder the size of a two-by-four, but he almost seemed happy.

"Shawn . . . did you find out anything about your mom?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to. I know about where she lived and went to school now, and I really don't want to know what was so bad that she couldn't hang onto me. You know what I mean?"

Landon didn't have the luxury. He was well aware of what had been so bad for his parents, and his dad was still in jail for it. He changed the subject back to Shawn's school quickly.

"So do you live in the school with the other students, or do you live with the Hagrid guy?"

"I was living in Hagrid's hut for a couple of months, but I moved into a room with some other kids. Apollo and Niles are our age, but Niles' brother Gilbert is only fourteen. He has to stay with his brother because he has some problems. He's pretty cool, he just gets these weird attacks of paranoia and won't let anybody talk to him sometimes."

"Dude, that's past weird and into crazy. You know that, right?"

"Well, yeah, but he's not dangerous or anything. He's better off than the other kid who had that happen to him, that one just starts screaming and doesn't stop for like, half an hour. I don't know why it's just those two, though. The other two are fine, Barry and that girl Letty."

"What happened to them?"

"Oh, there was this kid here a couple of years ago that cursed them. It was pretty hardcore. Like something John would have thought up. They were stuck inside their own nightmares for months and couldn't wake up. Anyway, like I said, Gilbert's okay, he's just touchy sometimes. And I get to work on Potions stuff with Niles, he's really good at it, too. I think they told him to keep an eye on me so I don't do anything terrible, but we just experiment with different stuff."

"Not opiates, though," Landon said, trying to reassure himself.

Shawn glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "No. Anyway, it's better than sleeping in the hut being smothered by Spike and listening to Hagrid snore."

Landon felt bad for making the jab. Shawn was making a real and honest effort to fit in over there, and he shouldn't be getting all upset just because it was working. Shawn deserved to have some other friends. But he'd seen something when Shawn crossed his arms. Something he hadn't really wanted to see on Shawn ever again.

Landon had been lucky. He'd never been abused while getting tossed around the system, only left out in the cold a few times. But Shawn had. And one day when they'd both been just drunk enough to talk without feeling weird about it, Shawn had explained himself. He'd grown up thinking that pain was the answer for everything. Every time you did something wrong, there was pain. Every time you talked too much, there was pain. Every time you didn't stand up straight and be respectful, there was pain. After a while, you didn't grasp the concept of a world that didn't have pain like that. Coming to Vince and Marybeth hadn't been a dream come true for him, it had just been really confusing. If there was no pain coming from them, he needed to invent it. And once you got started, you just kept wanting to go deeper until you ended everything and all your problems leaked out through the opened veins . . .

"You said you wouldn't do that anymore," Landon said sharply.

"What?"

"You know what. I told you you were wrong about all of that. You said you'd stop. You did stop."

Shawn glanced down at his wrists, and crossed his arms tighter. "So what?"

"Let me see it."

"Why?"

Landon's neck was aching, and he was pissed off. "Because you're still my best friend! Show me!"

Shawn tried to play it off like an act. He held out his arms with an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"Damn, Shawn. What have you done to yourself?"

"What? We've already talked about this, I remember. I wasn't that drunk."

"No, I just . . . were you actually trying to kill yourself?"

"No," Shawn said, the word "yes" written all over him.

"Shit. Seriously?"

"It wasn't that big of a deal or anything, I just—"

"What else have you done?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"I took some of Professor Malfoy's poison once."

"You seriously poisoned yourself?"

"The man sure knows how to whip up an antidote."

"What else?"

"Nothing."

"You're still lying."

"Nothing, Landon. God, what do you care? You're not even here."

"Not yet," Landon said grimly. "But I'm coming. Let me talk to Harry for a minute."

"Forget it."

"You think I'm just going to let you get away with that kind of shit? For god's sake, you were just telling me about how good everything is going over there."

Shawn just shrugged. "Whatever. It's fine."

"Are you listening to yourself? It's not fine, stupid! What did I say? Huh? I said, if you ever get to the point where you think you need to end it, you come talk to me. You promised you would!"

"Yeah, I did!" Shawn said, jumping to his feet and looming tall over Landon. "Then you crapped out on me!"

"Well, sorry if I was a little freaked out for a couple of days over the whole mind-control thing! You were the one who went and left a suicide note on the day I tried to come over and apologize!"

"You think you can— You did?"

"Yes, you retard. I did. Look, I know neither of us had a ton of experience with sticking things out, but we said if we were going to be friends, it wasn't going to be like that. We were done letting people pass us off to someone else, remember?"

"I figured that didn't cover me being a wizard."

"Well, it does," Landon said firmly. "It was supposed to cover everything."

"Didn't really work out, though. I mean, since I'm in England on some kind of probation, and you're at home still playing the goody two shoes."

"Who says it didn't work out? We're talking, aren't we?"

"I'm not going to stop being a wizard, Landon."

"I didn't say you had to. I don't even mind magic so much anymore."

"Uh-huh," Shawn said dryly.

Landon's neck was screaming for him to stop being ridiculous, he had ashes in his hair, and these people didn't understand the concept of telephones.

"I mean, this firecall stuff is pretty cool, anyway."