The calling of the witch - Her cursed Alpha and the vampire pact

The king of geometri

*Tala*

As I emerge from the familiar confines of the school, I spot Jacy propped against the wall, his attention consumed by his phone. His massive frame is impossible to miss, standing out like a lone redwood amongst saplings. He is like an obstacle I can't avoid, a presence I can't ignore, and his towering height makes any attempt to feign obliviousness laughable.

So, with a sense of resigned inevitability, I steer my footsteps towards him. Once he looks up and flashes that disarming smile, any thoughts of evasion dissipate, leaving me momentarily disoriented.

His casual greeting, "Hi, is your house far away? Because I didn't bring my bike today," is followed by a graceful detachment from the wall, his phone disappearing into his pocket.

"No, it's not far. Just beyond the football fields, across the road. My house is in the cluster down there," I reply, my voice reflecting the rhythms of the reservation where I have spent my entire life.

"Cool, let's go then," Jacy responds, setting off at a pace that almost leaves me scrambling to keep up with his long strides.

A silence settles between us as we tread the worn path leading away from the school, towards the football field.

The quiet lingers, uneasy and awkward, like a cloud threatening to burst. It grates on me, this awkwardness, but I resist the urge to fill it with empty chatter. What's the point? Once he is done borrowing my notes, he will return to his world, a world inhabited by the likes of the ‘Royals’ and Pavati, a world where I have no place.

"You are not much of a talker," he remarks, disturbing the tranquility that had settled between us.

"I... Well, perhaps I'm not the most vocal person," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, feeling foolish for not having anticipated his comment.

He studies me with a pensive expression. "Have you always called this place home, Tala?"

His question sparks a memory, and I bob my head in affirmation, my dark eyes meeting his. A realization dawns, giving me the courage to ask him a question that has been nagging me. "What brought you here, away from your own home?"

"My father's a carpenter," he starts, a wistful note in his voice. "In Alaska, the demand for his work was scarce. Here, it's not much better, but definitely an improvement. I think the constant driving, the long, lonely hours in the car, wore him down. Our extended family already lives here. Uncles, aunts, cousins... they all made the move. My father’s family originally came from this reservation." He shrugs, as if it's an insignificant detail.

His words paint a vivid picture, and I find myself engrossed in his tale of uprooting from the icy terrains of Alaska to our humble reservation. As he speaks, I'm afforded the chance to study him more openly, a privilege I relish.

My heart stutters in my chest every time his gaze meets mine, those mesmerizing eyes captivating me. I can only hold his gaze for a few fleeting moments before I have to avert my eyes, my breath hitching in my throat, fearing I might faint from the sheer intensity of the moment and lack of oxygen.

Oblivious to the turmoil that churns within me, he continues to walk by my side, engrossed in our conversation, treating me as if I were like any other person. His ease and normalcy, in stark contrast with my internal struggle, only serve to fuel my silent self-torment.

"My uncles," he begins, his voice filled with a certain fondness, "they are actually pretty cool. They are planning this hiking trip up to Canada this summer, and they have invited me to tag along."

His words paint a vivid picture of the anticipated wilderness adventure, and I can't help but tease him a little. "Sounds like a proper masculine bonding experience," I reply, a small, playful laugh escaping my lips.

He laughs, too, but there's a hint of nervousness in it. "Yeah, I suppose so," he admits. "They keep hinting at this idea of molding me into a 'real man'." There is a pause as he seems to mull over what that might entail. "I'm hoping it's just about fishing and sharing stories… you know native tales… in the glow of a campfire. But knowing them, and their penchant for hunting, I can't shake off the fear that this 'real man' initiation might involve shooting something." He winks at me then, a playful glint in his eyes that sends my heart fluttering like a trapped bird against my ribcage.

As we arrive at my house, a sense of urgency propels me inside, eager to retrieve the notes. With cautious movements, I only open the door wide enough to slip through, ensuring that he won't catch a glimpse of my room beyond the hallway. Returning with the folder in my hands, Jacy's questioning gaze meets mine.

"It should all be here," I offer, extending the folder towards him. However, to my surprise, he doesn't reach out to take it, leaving me perplexed. "Something wrong?" I inquire, my curiosity piqued.

A chuckle escapes Jacy's lips as he shakes his head, his eyes momentarily drifting past me into the hallway. The realization hits me like a wave, draining the color from my face. I grip the doorframe tightly, seeking support. What am I supposed to say now? Should I invite him in, risking the exposure of the untidiness that fills my living space? Or should I confess my struggles with English and my inadequacy in mathematics, making it clear that I may never fully grasp these subjects? Oh no, I don't want him to leave.

"Uh, come on in. Sorry about the mess," I find myself saying, my voice tinged with a hint of anxiousness. I glance over my shoulder, confirming that the door to my room is securely closed, shielding my personal sanctuary from prying eyes.

"Great". He says and steps inside before I can change my mind. The most amazing smell hits my senses as he slides past me and kicks off his shoes. I grab the doorframe harder not to let out a sigh.

"Where should I set up?" he asks, his voice echoing from the living room.

"Perhaps in here?" I suggest, guiding him with a quick, nervous gesture toward the dining room. I strategically position us so our backs are to the disarray of the kitchen, hoping it remains unnoticed. As he unzips his bag and starts to pull out his books, I hurriedly fetch a cold, oversized bottle of Coke, two pristine glasses, and a small bowl overflowing with a variety of vibrantly-colored candies.

When I can't think of any other tasks to distract myself with, I finally retreat to the farthest end of the long, oak table, maintaining a safe distance from him. Thankfully, he appears oblivious to my internal turmoil, his attention solely on the files spread across the table. I struggle to find words, my heart pounding in my chest like the tribal drums of my ancestors at the overwhelming reality of him being in my house.

I steal a glance at him, his handsome features illuminated by the dim room light. He is undeniably attractive, and my heart skips a beat. Silently, I appeal to the spirits for strength.

"I think we should start with you explaining these notes to me," he suggests, looking up at me with a warm smile that somehow brings a rhythm to the chaos within me.

A reciprocal smile plays on my lips, a studied effort to project calmness where there is none. His arm extends, the folder swinging in my direction as his chair inches closer, diminishing the space between us.

The once negligible gap between our hands is now a chasm, filled with a tempest of butterflies, swirling and fluttering in my belly, threatening to burst forth. I tuck a loose strand of my dark hair behind my ear, a habitual soothing gesture, all while focusing on the rhythm of my breathing. Inhale, exhale. The sacred words of my grandfather echo in my mind, a reminder of our People’s old teachings about strength, about not showing weakness. Oh, how mortifying it would be to faint now.

"Well, I merely attended the lectures, actually," I respond, my voice a little shaky, betraying my nervousness. "The notes are consolidated post-class, so they aren't exactly comparable to the reading list, but here is the lesson list." My hands tremble noticeably as I pass him the list, a silent prayer whispered that he doesn't notice my anxiety.

His eyes scan the list before he releases a relieved sigh. "I'm genuinely grateful you agreed to help. I wouldn't have been able to navigate this alone. I admit I struggle with discipline."

His confession catches me off guard, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "But aren't you just taking these home to copy? We can't possibly cover all of this today," I respond, feeling like I've been thrown into a whirlwind. My mind races, wondering if I have misinterpreted his intentions.

With a mischievous grin, he exclaims, "I never expected us to accomplish it all in a single day!" His enthusiasm fills the air, and I can't help but feel a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

"Ah, yes," I manage to mutter, struggling to find the right words to match his excitement.

He flips through the pages, examining the collection of hieroglyphs that my notes are. "Why don't we start by you deciphering these intricate symbols for me?" he suggests, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Let's see how far we can progress."

"I believe I have a checklist too, somewhere," I mention, reaching for the folder that holds our study materials.

In a serendipitous moment, our hands accidentally touch, sending an electric shock through my body. Flustered, I quickly withdraw my hand, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"Sorry," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. Without hesitation, he slides the folder toward me, offering me a chance to regain my composure. I find the checklist nestled within the folder and push it back towards him.

"Well, let's dive into it," he suggests, his tone reassuring. I let out a relieved sigh as he redirects his attention back to the papers. It's comforting to know that he doesn't mind my occasional struggle to form coherent sentences. He effortlessly takes charge, leaving me with the simple task of responding with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ most of the time.

As the afternoon slowly drifts by, I find myself becoming more at ease in Jacy's company. It's an unexpected sensation, given that I have never imagined engaging in such candid conversations with a guy before. However, Jacy possesses a natural ability to make me feel comfortable, effortlessly coaxing laughter from me. And even though his captivating eyes have a way of turning my insides into goo, I no longer stumble over my words or speak in fragmented sentences.

"You really saved my life today," Jacy remarks as the hours slip away. "But I better head home for dinner. My mom doesn't take kindly to tardiness."

"That I would like to see. I'm pretty sure she can't put you over her knee," I respond, a giggle escaping my lips at the thought.

"Oh, don't underestimate my mother. She may be the smallest in our family, but she is as tough as they come. She has had to keep four unruly males under control," Jacy shares, rising from his seat.

It's in that moment that I truly realize how tall and broad Jacy is. Previously, I hadn't dared to look at him directly, fearing that I would be caught staring, lost in admiration. But now, my gaze glides up to his face, and our eyes lock. He stands there, smiling down at me, and a surge of anticipation washes over me. I can't help but hope that he leans in for a kiss.

Before our connection can deepen, our reverie is interrupted by the sound of a key in the front door.

"Hi, honey, I'm home," my mom's voice echoes through the house.

The spell is broken, and I take a step back, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me.

"Oh, you have a guest," my mom observes, pausing in the doorway. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, no, not at all. Mom, this is Jacy from school," I stammer, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "We're just working on homework together."

"Tala is saving my behind in English," Jacy exclaims, extending his hand to shake my mother's. I watch as she takes it, looking quite stunned. "Such a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Bylilly," Jacy says warmly.

My mother, still taken aback, manages to reply, "Thank you, and you too, Jacy," her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

As Jacy prepares to leave, he nods politely and says, "Well, I better get going. I need to get home for dinner." He effortlessly throws his backpack over his shoulder and starts walking towards the hallway.

Feeling a mix of gratitude and anticipation, I quickly follow him, playfully slapping my mother's shoulder as I pass her. She stands there, wearing a cheeky grin, her eyebrows wiggling mischievously.

"So, we got through quite a bit today. Want to meet up again and look at that math?" Jacy asks after pulling on his shoes.

"I would love to, maybe I can even pass then," I say with a little laugh, relieved to have Jacy's help.

Jacy makes a funny face and adds, "I am the King of geometry, you know."

Chuckling at his remark, I giggle and reply, "Okay then. With you as my guide, I am certain to pass."

"I promise you that," he says, his voice gentle yet sincere. Pausing, he turns his attention towards me, his eyes filled with gratitude. As his hand reaches out, he pulls me into an embrace, a moment of connection between us.

When our gaze meets again, time seems to stand still. We share a profound silence, relishing in the intensity of our unspoken connection. It's as if the entire world comes to a halt, allowing us to bask in the purity of that moment.

Eventually, he releases me with a nervous chuckle and hurries out the door, leaving me with his parting words and a radiant smile that lingers in my mind. "See you, Tala."

Lost in his departure, I stand there, trying to hold onto the lingering sensation of his touch. His embrace lingers on my skin, leaving behind a mix of emotions that I struggle to comprehend. These feelings are unfamiliar and perplexing, I have grown accustomed to a different rhythm of life, one where simplicity often takes precedence. But Noah's gaze ignitet a fire within me, turning me into a volcano of emotions. And yet, when Jacy looks at me, I melt like an ice cream cone under the scorching sun. If I have a crush on Noah, as Halyn suggested, then what exactly am I feeling for Jacy?

My thoughts are interrupted as I realize I need to discuss this with Halyn. She is my confidante, someone who understands the complexities of my heart. I make my way to my room and collapse onto my bed, feeling the weight of these emotions. It's frustrating to grapple with something so unfamiliar.

Summoning the courage, I call out from my room to the living room where my mom is. "Do we have any plans for dinner?"

My mom's voice carries through the house as she responds, "I will be fixing something in a minute. Why?"

I poke my head into the living room, meeting her gaze. "Would it be okay if I grab something quick and head over to Halyn's for a bit?"

A playful smile dances on my mom's lips as she teasingly replies, "Ah, so you two are going to talk about Jacy, perhaps?"

A blush spreads across my cheeks, betraying my secret. "We might," I admit.

She smiles warmly, but her tone holds a hint of seriousness. "It's fine, go ahead, but make sure you're home before bedtime. Even if you are suddenly interested in boys and goth clubs, you still have to get up and go to school on time."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, grinning with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. I reach for my phone, dialing Halyn's number as I eagerly await our conversation.