Bewitched Page 11

  “Science and religion are not the same things,” Felix countered. “Science is backed up with studies and empirical evidence. It can be proven over and over again.”

  “My point is simply that science,” Samantha continued smoothly, “cannot be relied upon with any more assurance than religion could three-hundred years ago. Yet, we superstitiously go along with it, at times at great risk to ourselves.”

  “The examples you’ve used have each been disproved by the proper application of the scientific method.” Felix smugly crossed his arms in triumph.

  “Explain if you would,” Samantha said, looking harmlessly over at the smartest student at the school, “the phenomenon of global warming.”

  Felix shot Samantha an incredulous and hateful glare.

  “Assuming that global warming itself can actually be proven,” Samantha concluded.

  “Of course it can be proven! No one believes global warming isn’t actually taking place.”

  “Believes?” Samantha’s voice rose as she threw the word back at him.

  “Okay, take belief out of it. It really doesn’t matter what one believes. The truth is that it is taking place. This has been scientifically proven.”

  “The same science you claim has proven the rise in global temperatures, and I’m talking about the ground readings as well as satellite atmospheric readings, has also found that global temperatures have been dropping since 2002.”

  Felix was flustered. His expression was unlike anything Darren had seen before. He reacted to Samantha’s tidbit like a secret he didn’t think anyone else was aware of but himself. “That doesn’t disprove global climate change!”

  “Yes, but the climate is always changing. It’s ridiculous to claim it isn’t changing, so science has reached no new conclusions if it doesn’t claim either heating or cooling.”

  “You’re twisting the conclusions that have been reached. Drastic global change is occurring because of the increase in carbon dioxide, the majority of which is coming from industrialized nations, like the United States. Our way of life is actually destroying the climate.”

  Samantha smoothly continued her argument. “Atmospheric carbon dioxide concentrations increased from 2000-2006, compared to the amount it increased by during the 1990’s. Yet, despite the emission rates and concentrations, there has been no net warming in the twenty-first century. In fact, there has been a decline.”

  Unable to stand it any longer, Felix, red in the face blurted, “And where do you get this information?”

  “From an EPA report, March 2009, by EPA analyst Alan Carlin. This is a government source, a government sanctioned department of science.”

  Not to be outdone Felix, exasperated, played his last card. “Each of the examples you used to support your arguments was undermined by human misunderstanding of science. It was not science itself to blame. It was people.”

  Samantha smiled and stood up at her desk. “Thank you. You completed the argument.”

  “What?” Felix was stumped, his head cocked to one side and an expression of total disbelief on his face. Darren found it hard not to laugh. Mike laughed right out loud at it.

  “Global warming is a scientific fact only to those people who agree with it. They have made an interpretation, where others have made a different one. Science is not to blame, it was the interpretation men put upon it.” Samantha ignored Mike’s guffaw. “Therefore, is religion wrong in saying witches must be killed? Or, as is the case in this play, did men simply misinterpret, or miss-apply, their knowledge of their own religion. Because as the play makes quite clear, these girls were not real witches. It was all a hoax. Therefore, I submit that their superstition was responsible for the deaths of these people, not their religion. And it is our superstitious belief in science that was responsible for the thousands of thalidomide birth-defects, and the use of Fen-Phen, and the current religion of faith that continues to bang the gong that we are all doomed to a fiery death in a few short years because we drive cars and exhale on a regular basis.”

  Both her momentum and the class’s general dislike for Felix led to the applause that erupted. Mike and Darren both took to their feet and got several others to jump up as well in a standing ovation.

  Mr. Whitmore attempted to calm the class down and get them back in their seats, but it took awhile. It didn’t help that he smiled broadly as he tried to get control of the class. Then, half laughing he said, “Samantha, you better be careful. You’ve just come dangerously close to proving that witches actually exist.”

  Oh no! Darren thought. Here it comes.

  “They do.”

  Only it wasn’t Samantha who said this.

  Everyone glanced back in the right hand corner of the room where Tiffany sat. Her dish-blonde hair hung lifelessly around her tan face. Her hemp shirt had slid to one side, revealing a tattoo on her shoulder of a large ankh, the center of which was filled with the image of an ocean and a golden sun setting into it.

  “I’m just saying,” Tiffany drawled. “Witches have existed since the Bible. They aren’t evil. Most of us only use white magic.”

  Darren rolled his eyes, and Mike smiled so big in anticipation for her comments, his teeth were in danger of blinding the teacher. This was one of those great days to be in class. Tiffany, a self proclaimed Wiccan, had been making comments throughout the entire Crucible unit. There was no way she was going to be left out of this discussion.

  “What?” This time it was Samantha who’d been surprised. “Are you saying you’re a witch?”

  Becca, a shorter, dirtier version of Tiffany, spoke up. “We are followers of Wicca. So, yes, we are witches. But not like they’re portrayed in books. It’s more a natural thing, nature’s way of participating with the universe. All those other images of witches are bull-crap.”

  Darren caught a quick glimpse of Mr. Whitmore suppressing a grin and shaking his head.

  “We only practice white-magic,” Tiffany continued. “Occasionally, if we need to, we ward off those who try to bind others and cause a disruption in the natural order of things.”

  “Oh,” Samantha replied. “I see.”

  Without thinking, Darren tapped Samantha on the shoulder and said, “I should have warned you about them.”

  “How ironic, given the subject we’re studying right now.” She smiled at him and turned back in her seat.

  “Yeah.” He laughed.

  After a few moments passed, and Darren remembered his conversation with Atavus the night before, it occurred to him it wasn’t as ironic as it sounded.

  ***

  At lunch Darren sat next to Andrea, who was unusually quiet. She glanced up at him every so often as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind. Mike sat on Darren’s other side, peering out at the lunchroom entrance. T.J., Tony, and Seth sat across from Darren and Andrea, talking with Lindsey and Sandy who were at Andrea’s left.

  The group’s banter had just begun as usual at their table. Darren was still thinking about how funny first period had been and about the things Samantha had said, when he saw her with a tray of food, heading toward their table.

  Darren couldn’t deny something was drawing him to her. He liked and hated this feeling. His fear of her had abated, despite all the things he’d learned about himself from Atavus. Samantha may be a witch, but it seemed impossible that she could be a danger to anyone. Atavus had had only bad experiences with witches. He’d never met anyone like Samantha, and if he did, it would change his mind about them.

  As she approached, Darren saw the two Wiccan’s from first period, Tiffany and Becca, along with four other girls and a couple of boys. They were at the other end of the lunchroom, their eyes glued on Samantha’s every move. And as their eyes followed her, their lips appeared to be reciting something in unison.

  “Hi,” Samantha said, taking a seat next to T.J. “What’s going on?”

  Andrea looked up, and her eyes grew narrow at the sight of the cute blonde girl.

  Having
missed Andrea’s reaction, Darren answered Samantha. “Those two.” He nodded in the direction of the two witches and their friends. “I’m not certain, but I think they just cast a spell on you.”

  Samantha glanced over her shoulder at the two girls and their posse, who quickly became seriously interested in their food. She turned back and smiled. “I’m not too worried about them. I don’t believe in Wicca.”

  She turned her attention back to Darren, and he felt as though someone with really cold breath had just breathed down the back of his shirt. It made him sit up straighter. He was about to say something about it, but a sudden ruckus across the room prevented him.

  Tiffany and her friends jumped up, holding their noses and pointing at the salad Tiffany had been eating. The Wiccan had dropped the container it was in and bent over gagging. The others’ complaints and gagging noises caught the attention of the entire lunchroom.

  Darren heard one of the students gripe, “Something died in there!”

  And another said, “Who puked?”

  Samantha smiled. “I wonder what happened over there.”

  “I’d say Tiffany’s salad went bad... suddenly,” Darren suggested. Samantha simply continued to smile.

  Mike and the others at their table were laughing at the flustered students across the room.

  “So much for an all natural diet,” Mike quipped. “Man Tiffany is making my day.” He chuckled.

  After the distraction across the room settled down, Darren looked back up from his meal and caught Samantha’s eyes. Andrea, seeing this, glared coldly across the table at Samantha.

  Darren considered what had taken place across the room and Samantha’s portrayal of innocence. He had to ask her, “What about Whitmore’s question today? You don’t believe in Wicca, but do you believe in witches?”

  She smiled back at him, and they locked eyes in a playful way. Mike muttered under his breath. “Dude, you are a one-note song with this witch thing.”

  “What’s happened?” Tony asked Samantha. “Did you bother the two witches today?”

  “First period,” Mike explained, “Samantha got this whole conversation about religion and science going. You should have heard Felix. You know how he is. She practically made him prove that witches exist. Then Mr. Whitmore, noticing her argument depended on the existence of real witches, tells her to be careful because you know, no one actually believes in witches. Next thing you know, ‘Tiffany-the-epiphany’ starts going on about only using white magic and how witches are real, because let’s face it, she’s a witch.”

  The others laughed at Mike’s recap.

  “Whatever she was doing over there a minute ago, it didn’t seem like white magic to me.” Darren’s eyes were still locked on Samantha who sweetly returned his gaze with a flirtatious smile.

  Andrea burst to her feet, her face a flame. “Can I talk to you?” She glared witheringly down at Darren. Sandy and Lindsey, all too aware of what had disturbed their friend, shot daggers at Darren that should have killed him on the spot.

  Darren broke from his trance, and his cheeks colored. He jumped up. “Sure.”

  Andrea marched him over to an empty table by the windows that overlooked the outside courtyard. “In third period today, I was told you were dating someone else. I was also asked if it was true that we had broken up. I told everyone they were crazy. Things are the same between us.” Andrea’s small hands were on her hips, and from a distance, she appeared to be striking a cheer pose. Only, her open hostility ruined the effect. “I finally asked Travis who it was you were supposedly seeing now, and he mentioned the new girl, Samantha. Now, I sit here at lunch and you can’t keep your eyes off her. Why don’t you just go sit next to her? I can tell you’re dying to.”

  Darren’s stomach plummeted as if he were riding an elevator with a severed cable. He knew he should express how he had no desire to sit next to anyone but her. That she was mistaken, and that Travis was an idiot and didn’t know what he was talking about. And this whole thing was a huge misunderstanding.

  He kept his hands in his pockets because he didn’t trust them to hold still. There really wasn’t anything going on between him and Samantha, but he knew his feelings were... changing. He knew he liked Samantha, perhaps more than he should, but he had no idea what she thought of him—not exactly. She could easily just be flirting with him and nothing more. How had things come to this point so quickly? He’d barely even spoken with her. Now Andrea believed things were over. Were they?

  “Andrea,” Darren stammered. “You have it all wrong.” He reached out and took her hand. “First of all, I barely know Samantha. Second, Travis overheard us talking and totally took it out of context. What happened is that Mr. Whitmore put us together on an assignment. That’s all. Travis mistook it for a lot more because he’d just gotten there and overheard us making plans to work on it together.” Darren stroked her shoulder. “Seriously, this is a rumor that’s gotten out of control; that’s it.”

  Andrea gazed at the ground. Tears clung to her lashes. Darren reached under her chin and tipped her head up. “Honest, Andrea, there is nothing going on between Samantha and me. The only people something is going on between is us—I hope.”

  A quivering smile flashed across her face. She appeared so vulnerable Darren felt a little gut-punched. He wasn’t sure how much of what he’d said he’d meant. In truth, he was confused. He still liked Andrea; he’d been dating her for more than a year. But there was something captivating about Samantha. He couldn’t deny it. However, now didn’t seem like the right time to admit his confusion.

  “Why were you looking across the table at her?” Andrea’s liquid brown eyes bore straight into his, and a tear slid down her cheek.

  Darren squeezed her hand. “Andrea, all I was thinking about is how I need to talk to her so we can set up a time to work on this assignment. I was just waiting to ask her, and that’s all. Then all that business with ‘Tiffany-epiphany’ happened.”

  She swung their hands a bit, reminding Darren of kids playing Red-Rover. He suspected she might be somewhat mollified. A small smile formed on her lips. Casting her eyes sideways in a shy gesture, she said, “You didn’t come by my house last night. You weren’t...” she trailed off.

  “At her house?” Darren finished for her. “I don’t even know where she lives. No, I left Tony’s last night and was going to come by your place, but I ended up worrying about Atavus. He and I got talking until late, and I was afraid to call you. I’m sorry.”

  “You could come by tonight. Help me with the posters to advertise the state game.” She gazed up at him, her eyes clearing, along with her mood. Darren was once again struck with how cute she was with her short dark hair, dark eyes, and beautiful skin. She was shorter than Samantha by about an inch, but she was slim and had a playful confidence about her that had won his heart over in the first place. And now she was back, charming him all over again.

  “Okay, but I can’t stay long. We have practice in the morning.”

  “On a Friday?” she asked.

  “Yeah, Coach doesn’t want us to lose our momentum. State is all next week.”

  “All right.” She smiled again. “We better get back to the table.” She glanced at him through her long lashes, and instinctively Darren leaned down and kissed her.

  “Oooooh!” howled his friends.

  Darren grimaced and rolled his eyes, primarily at Mike who was sitting on top of the table like a kid watching early morning cartoons. T.J. and Tony clapped and hooted at them. Seth nodded. Lindsey and Sandy had their hands to their mouths, as if they had just seen the ending to an extremely romantic movie.

  Samantha smiled too, as if glad to see two old friends getting back together again. But Darren didn’t want to be seen looking at her, so he wasn’t sure if there was more to her response than what he’d glimpsed.

  As soon as they returned to their friends, Mike hopped down from the table. Staring at the doorway, he held his hands out behind himself as if he were hol
ding back a crowd. “Hold it! Everybody, just hold it.”

  They all glanced from him to the door of the lunchroom where a strikingly beautiful black girl made an entrance.

  “That’s her! The girl I told you about.” Mike was breathless, which was totally unlike him.

  Darren’s eyebrows shot up. She was everything Mike had claimed she’d be. And Darren and his group were not the only ones to focus on her. The entire lunchroom stopped what they were doing or saying to gaze at her.

  The mysterious girl wore a short cherry-red ruffled halter-dress topped by a yellow leather cropped jacket with ruche half-sleeves. She wore several long necklaces and a silver engraved cuff on her left arm. Heeled yellow strap sandals completed her look.

  “She looks like a super model,” T.J. whispered.

  She glided to the beverage machine, seemingly unaware that the entire lunchroom was locked on her every move. Sandy and Lindsey shared a wide-eyed glance at each other, mouths agape, then stared back at the dazzling beauty. They knew an attractive girl when they saw one, and this girl had just recalibrated the scale.

  From the machine, a bottle of diet Coke landed in her long slender fingers; she stood back up and smoothed one of her long, loosely curled tresses behind her ear. Her pouty lips curved into just a hint of a smile, and her beautiful dark eyes quickly scanned the room. Once again, acting as if none of the attention mattered to her, she moved with feline grace toward the lunchroom exit, as if she had completed her tour on the catwalk and was now going back stage to change into another stunning design.

  The moment the girl was gone, the lunchroom broke into talking. Darren hadn’t even noticed how silent it had become while she was in the room, but now the sound of buzzing comments was deafening.

  “She was amazing!” Lindsey said to no one in particular. “Like a model from a magazine.”