Prue ran down the stairs to get a snack. She just spent two hours studying for her Non Western Civilization class. She sighed and opened the refrigerator, planting herself in front of it. She took out some strawberries. The phone rang. She ran to it.
"Hello?"
"Prue?" the voice asked. She recognized her sister's voice and leaned on the counter, her ear glued to the phone..
"Penny, hi. You never told me how the evaluation was a week ago."
"I think it went well. I didn't spill the coffee!"
Prue laughed. "Great! You're totally getting a job there, just you wait."
"I hope. Is Mom home, I haven't talked to her for days." Prue backed off the counter and opened a screen door separating the kitchen from the hallway, which led to their spacey, comfortable living room. The blinds were closed and the big screen T.V. was on silent. She peered in to see her Mom on her laptop, working. Her advice column at the Bay Mirror was going strong for 26 years, along with several best-selling books about love. Before she had Prue, she hosted her own Ask Phoebe talk show, but became overwhelmed with work so she cancelled the show. Her position in the Bay Mirror was the strongest in the newspaper. It had expanded and a book on some of her best advice was being published in several weeks. She walked over.
"Mom? It's Penny," she handed her the phone.
"Honey?" Phoebe said into the phone. Prue walked off, the voices becoming more distant. She shut the door and sat at the counter. She thought for a moment and looked at the clock. It read 6:51 P.M. She took out her cell phone from her pocket and dialed.
"Hello?" a male voice answered.
She smiled. "Max, hi." She heard his smile.
"Baby, hi. How are you?"
"Sitting at home on a Friday night," she said. He laughed.
"When should I pick you up?"
She laughed. "You don't have to. You're probably busy."
"Naww, I'm lame and studying for chem. I need a break to see my angel."
"Seven-thirty okay with you?"
"See you soon, beautiful," he hung up. She bit her lower lip and examined the ring. When she first mentioned the ring, he seemed almost confused. What ring? He had asked. She showed him her hand and he suddenly slapped his forehead. Right, right. Anything for my girl. She had shrugged it off. He seemed tired that day anyway. Funny thing was she tried to get a read off of him with her empathy. She knew the power was still weak, but it had usually worked somewhat. But she couldn't get anything off of him. She sighed and got up.
"Mom, I'm going out with Max," she shouted, heading up the stairs. Her mom shouted okay. She took a quick shower and headed to her bedroom closet. She flipped through every hanger, disagreeing with everything she owned. She looked up and saw an acceptable shirt in a box on the top shelf. She jumped up trying to reach it. With no success, she sighed.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," she said. She closed her eyes, attempting to levitate her way to the shirt. She felt the familiar spark in her body ring. It suddenly died down. She opened her eyes to notice her feet were barely above the ground, no more than a tiptoe. She lowered herself to the ground. She knitted her eyebrows together in concern.
I'll just try again. She patted her hands at her side and closed her eyes. She felt the spark again and opened her eyes to see her at level height with the box. She grabbed the shirt.
"Hmph," she said. "That's more like it." She lowered herself and thought about the failed attempt. She shook her head.
No need to get panicked. It only happened once. She looked at the shirt again and thought to herself. What was I thinking? I want to bind my powers and using them on a regular basis is not the best impression to convince Mom and Dad. She exasperatedly sighed. Just think about Max. It's all about you and Max tonight. She smiled at the thought of his curly bronze hair and his deep brown eyes. His smile made her melt to her knees and just the thought of him made all her worries fade away. The clock read seven-twenty. She quickly dressed and made herself up. A car honked outside. She grabbed her purse and ran downstairs.
"Bye Mom," she shouted.
"Bye sweetie," she responded. Prue ran to the familiar Jeep and got into the front seat. His gaze turned to her. She shared a kiss with him and pulled back.
"Hi."
He laughed. "Hi." He leaned in for another kiss and started driving out of the driveway. They reached the road and headed to one of Prue's favorite places. A small café located in a three story bookstore. He coughed.
"So how's studying been going?"
"Ehh, okay. Test's gonna be killer and I'm busy this weekend so hopefully, those past hours were worth it," she said. He nodded. They chatted throughout the ride until they arrived. They stepped in and bought warm drinks, wandering in the private areas of the bookstore. He sipped his coffee and coughed again.
"You okay?"
He nodded. "I might be getting a cold, no big deal. Hey, listen, my dad wants me to get a book. I'll be right back."
"Sure, I'll just be roaming around here," he kissed the top of her head and quickly headed to a different section. She drank her cappuccino and examined the book titles. She snorted as she spied a bright pink and green book labeled Spells for Teens! She reached for the paperback and shook her head. The spells were absurd ranging from banishing a bad teacher to becoming the most popular in school.
"Ridiculous, the wording's all wrong," she said out loud.
"What's all wrong?" a voice from behind startled her. She dropped the book. She quickly bent down to pick up the book, but Max reached it before her. He sat down.
"Spells for Teens!" he read. He looked at her. She sat down and laughed.
"Title looked ridiculous, just wanted to see what it was," she nervously answered. He laughed and opened it, setting the book he got for his dad aside.
He put on a mock voice, "Spells are a sacred part of a witch's life. These specific spells were written for teens just like you so recite and enjoy." He threw it back on the shelf. She looked at him.
"What, you don't…believe in witches?" she questioned with a cautious voice.
He noticed the change in her voice. "Well, I never really thought about it." She looked down and drank her cappuccino.
"Do you?"
She looked up at him. "Yea, I do. I mean, they're people, like us. You believe everything they teach us in history, so why not believe something like this is real."
"I guess it could be possible," he thought for a moment. "I mean, there are stories and there's the whole Salem witch hunt stuff. It'd be weird though. If there are people out there who are actually witches and have powers and everything, you'd think they'd stop the world from being such a corrupted place."
"What if they try to fix it, but sometimes it's hard to stop every bad guy," she started to rant. "What if there are supernatural beings out there that witches fight and they keep them from ruining the world and killing other people, but there will always be more bad guys than good witches and what if…"
He put up his hands. "Whoa, calm down! I think you're right; that there are a lot more bad guys than witches. I mean, we don't exactly hear about open witches around here. So I think if witches are real and they are out there fighting for us, then they keep it pretty private. I get that, but what I don't get is they should try to save everyday things like houses burning down or people getting mugged out on the streets or something, you know?"
He scratched the back of his head nervously and tiredly lowered his head. She bit her lip again.
"Yea," she quietly said. "I know what you mean. But that's a lot of responsibility to put over one person." He looked up, examining her sad eyes. He put her chin in his hand and made her face him.
"Cheer up. I didn't mean to make you sad. I didn't know it meant this much to you," he said, considerately. She nodded.
"Yeah," she changed her tone. "Let's go sit down at a table or something." She smiled. He helped her up and put his hand on her back. She couldn't get the nagging feeling off her back. Another reason to bind my powers.
A green demonic energy ball flew at a young girl's body. Wyatt jumped in front of her, orbing with her to a different location. Junior appeared behind the demon and threw a potion at his feet. He fell down on his knees as flames burst out of him. Wyatt orbed back with the girl. She panted.
"Thanks guys," she said, putting her hand up to her head.
"Next time, be a little more prepared. A couple of potions won't cover it, you should have wrote a spell," Wyatt lectured. Junior nodded in agreement. She looked at them apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think he was that powerful." Wyatt nodded.
"I'm going to orb her home, why don't you head back to the apartment," he told Junior. He nodded and double blue orbing lights filled the room as they both disappeared into the dark skies of the England night.
Junior orbed to Wyatt's apartment and within minutes, Wyatt appeared. It was around three in the afternoon in San Francisco while it was eleven in the evening in England. Wyatt's charge was under attack so they rushed over there.
Wyatt looked down at the coffee table.
"Shall we return?"
Junior looked down and back up at Wyatt. They both ran to their seats on couches across from each other, with the table in between. Junior looked down, concentrating hard, thinking. Wyatt's face slowly twisted into a huge smile, bopping his head back and forth in happiness.
"HA!" he yelled jumping up. Junior slammed his fist down on the table.
"Sweet, sweet victory," Wyatt said, pumping his hands up in the air.
"Rematch," Junior pleaded.
"No way brother, I won fair and square. You shouldn't have moved your piece," Wyatt shot back. He stretched and sat on the couch.
Junior looked back at him and shook his head. "What are we doing man?"
Wyatt motioned his hands to the table. "Playing checkers?"
Junior got up exasperatedly. "Checkers? Checkers?"
Wyatt crossed his arms, relaxing on the couch. "What are you talking about here, Junior?"
"This! I mean, it's Friday night. We've been sitting in your apartment, playing checkers, waiting for the next demon attack on one of our charges…"
Wyatt shook his head. Junior paced back and forth and stared at Wyatt, open-mouthed.
"Are you seriously not getting this man?"
Wyatt widened his eyes.
"We are such losers. We've got no lives; we've got no girls…" Junior sat down and placed his hands on his knees. Melinda emerged from her bedroom, with an empty glass. She made her way to the kitchen, which overlooked the living room.
"Hey what are you guys doing here?" she asked, as she refilled the glass. She walked over to Wyatt's side and sat on the arm of the couch, drinking her clear water.
"Talking about our lame lives," Junior said.
"Yeah, our apparent lame lives," Wyatt commented, apparently clueless. Melinda almost choked on her water. She pulled the glass away from her mouth and patted Wyatt on the shoulder.
"You naïve little boy." He looked at her.
"What? You agree with him?" he questioned.
Melinda nodded. "Lately, all you've been doing is fighting demons and helping your charges. When are you going to start helping yourself…by getting a social life?"
Junior lifted his hands towards her. "There. Even your sister gets it." He started fumbling with his feet.
"So what are we supposed to do? We can't just stop helping our charges," Wyatt said.
"I'm not saying that. I'm all for saving people, but we need our own lives too."
Wyatt leaned forward. "Where do guys our age go around here?"
Melinda laughed, getting up from her seat and walking towards her room. Junior pointed to her. She stopped at her door and leaned on the frame. Junior raised his eyebrow and put on a puppy dog look. She shook her head and smiled.
"Alright," she finally managed out. "One of my friends is taking me to a club…"
"A club? You shouldn't be going to a club, you're underage…" Wyatt started. Junior picked up a pillow and threw it at him. He let it hit his face and threw it back at Junior. She turned her head sideways, scratching the hair under her loose bun. Junior motioned for her to continue.
"He's picking me up in a couple of hours, so if you guys wanna come…"
Wyatt looked at her. "He?"
She smirked and turned around, slamming her door. Junior looked back at Wyatt and put on a goofy grin, lifting his leg onto his other knee, nodding. He turned to Wyatt again, staring at his somber look. Junior's grin faded.
"The chicks, man! The chicks," he said, throwing the pillow back at him and walking off. Wyatt hung onto the pillow and stared at the empty space where Junior sat. He sighed.
