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I woke up in a familiar place. A place I had come to know too well—a place where blood, sweat, and tears flowed to no end.

I woke up in the nurse’s office.

As usual, nurse Flaring, a white elf, was waiting for me to wake up. She was sitting with a magazine. I don’t think she noticed I was awake until I sat up in my usual paper-covered medical bed.

“How long was I out this time?” I asked, at which point she put down her magazine.

“You missed most of the day,” she said.

“What time is it?”

“3:30,” she replied with monotone.

I missed an entire day of school. My dad might have been pissed or concerned had the school bothered to call him. They stopped notifying him of every time I got hurt once people realized how frequently incidents occurred around Danger Rabbit. The only time they called my dad anymore was when someone else got hurt. Seeing how he wasn’t around the room that afternoon, whoever crashed into me must have been fine.

Getting hurt so often, I think my body healed faster than most. That being said, as I walked out of the nurse’s office, I was more than sore enough to regret being hit by an unidentified flying asshole.

Walking through the school after hours felt like wandering through an abandoned crime scene. It was too quiet. I knew people were there not too long ago, and something was bound to happen there if the right or wrong people were still lurking around. I made my way outside, and to my surprise, someone was waiting for me on the front steps.

BJ and Wesson were both outside. I assumed they stuck around for my sake, but it seemed they couldn’t help but argue while they waited.

“I wouldn’t need spells to beat you,” Wes said to BJ.

“You don’t have any,” BJ replied.

“Because I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”

“Only a fool would go through life, making things harder without magic.”

“Or someone strong enough to get by without cheating,” Wes said confidently.

“You would lose,” BJ argued, just as confidently.

“What are you guys arguing about?” I finally cut in.

I doubt they would have noticed me had I stayed silent.

“Pitch!” BJ exclaimed.

Wes walked over and wrapped his arm around my shoulder before he spoke.

“Buddy, will you please tell Bug Burner I would win in a fight?”

“A fight?” I asked.

“If he and I were on Wizard Wars,” BJ explained.

Wizard Wars was a popular TV show where contestants battled head-to-head in random and sometimes odd challenges. It was one of the few places people were allowed to use magic while competing. Magic was banned from most professional sports for the safety of players, but in Wizard Wars, contestants were encouraged to use whatever spells they knew in order to win.

“I think you’d both lose,” I said as we walked down the steps.

“What!?” Wes exclaimed.

“Because I’d win,” I answered.

Normally I’d have to decide who I wanted to go home with, but that day was different. BJ and I needed to work on another spell to submit for the internships, and Wes lived down the street from me. For what might have been the first time ever, we were all together.

“You know he’s going with me to the internship,” BJ said.

“He’s going with me to the festival,” Wes replied.

It was like walking with toddlers. They couldn’t coexist in the same space for 10 minutes without going back and forth.

“I’m leaving you both if you keep arguing,” I said.

“You can’t do both, Pitch,” BJ said as she stopped walking.

Wes and I turned around to face her.

“As long as I don’t have to get a job this summer, I’d hang out with a zombie,” I joked.

“Come on, man, you know it be more fun at STR than at some job,” Wes added.

“No one wants to get with me now, so why would anyone want to at a festival full of more interesting people?” I asked, almost sarcastically.

“Dude, rabbits are cool,” he said.

“Until someone figures out I was born human, then I’ll be the idiot kid who cursed himself,” I replied.

“All the more reason to come with me, we could potentially learn ways of turning you back,” BJ interjected.

“Or get ourselves killed,” I quickly responded.

I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I was lucky to have friends who liked me enough to want me involved in their summer plans, but I would have been happy just to spend more time with my bed. STR might have been a fun idea with plenty of opportunities, but it had the potential to be another chance to embrace myself and be rejected. And the internship, as amazing an opportunity as it might have been, was still dangerous as hell. Someone had to be a realist out of us three, but I suppose I might have been swimming in pessimistic waters.

“I’m not saying I don’t want to go with you guys, but no matter what I do, with my luck, something bad is bound to happen,” I said.

The universe was gunning for me that day. Like magic, my words of pessimistic precaution seemed to summon danger. Before I could even turn around, I found myself knocked into the middle of the street.

Daybreak was a town home to many diverse people, human or otherwise. Two of those groups of people were Trolls and Orcs. Trolls were tall, lanky, and very tough. Orcs were fat, round, and very strong.

They both came in a variety of different colors, with trolls often being blue and Orcs typically being green.

From time to time, ordinary people confused the two races with one another, but Orcs and Trolls were like day and night. More importantly, they hated one another for some reason and would often cause mayhem when they clashed. Like most Fae, they didn’t need spells to be threatening.

For some reason, I got caught in the middle of a fight between an orc and a troll that day, and I never figured out why. I did my best to get out of the struggle, but they kept knocking me back into the mix. It all went down in the middle of the street, so I’m sure many passersby caught the show. I thought I might actually die until my friends jumped in.

“Don’t worry, Pitch! I got you,” Wes said as he rushed into the street to try to break up the fight.

BJ followed after him but kept a distance as she opened her spell book. She did a spell I remembered, but I couldn’t see why it was her first choice. If not for my high tolerance for pain, and my body learning to heal so quickly, I’m sure I might have passed out after the first misdirected punch that hit me in the face. BJ used her bug spell to create a snare of ladybugs that blinded the two battling creatures long enough for Wes to pull me out of the fray.

“Ladybugs?” Wes asked as we ran.

“They were butterflies last time,” BJ replied.

“Those wouldn’t have helped either.”

We kept running until we were breathless. By then, we were far from the fight, but the sound of property damage was still heard.

“My spell saved Pitch,” BJ said excitedly.

“Your spell killed more bugs, harmless, defenseless bugs,” Wes protested in an attempt to level BJ’s mood.

“But it saved Pitch,” she said.

“I saved Pitch,” he said.

“You guys,” I cut in.

It was the second time that day I’d been struck. I should have had a concussion.

“Can we just go home?” I said in a drained voice.

If nothing else, we figured out which of BJ’s spells to submit. Her bug spell made the perfect blinding agent. Despite its unpredictability when it came to which breed of bug might come to the rescue, it proved reliable enough to halt a fight between an orc and a troll. If only she’d used it before I got tossed around like a rag-doll.

I spent the rest of the week searching for anyone to go to STR with Wes and me. While everyone was happy to go anywhere with my friend, finding someone willing to travel with me proved to be a challenge. We had few options to begin with, and even fewer we were willing to consider.

“I want fish,” said Lance as Wes and I followed him out of the cafeteria.

“Fish?” I questioned.

“Not just any fish. I want three Gilded Star Lions,” Lance added.

“You want us to buy you fish?” Wes asked.

“If you want me to go anywhere with Danger Rabbit, that’s my price,” Lance said before trying to leave us to get lost in a sea of people during the passing period.

Wes and I spent two days going around asking people to accompany us on our trip. By Thursday, we were left with no other choice but to turn to more unique options. One such person was Lance Hagen, an elf who’d gone to school with me since before my transformation. He and I were never very close, mainly because he could be annoying, but I never thought we had a problem with one another. That was until that day.

We followed the pointy-eared wood elf through the crowd.

“But why?” I asked.

“Because when you fell through the ceiling three months ago, you killed my fish,” he replied.

Hearing him became difficult as he attempted to distance himself.

“That was you,” I said in a lighter, almost joking tone that Lance didn’t seem to appreciate.

“Yes, that was me,” he said as he stopped at his locker, finally giving Wes and me time to talk without him trying to lose sight of us.

“You know, it took 2 hours to get all that broken fish bowl glass out of me,” I joked.

“Get me my fish, or find someone else,” the elf said before slamming his locker shut and storming away, literally.

The guy must have been pissed because he summoned a storm cloud to knock me away while he walked off. So Lance was a no-go.

After school that day, Wes and I walked home together. We turned over every stone we could think of, but no one was willing to go to STR, not with me.

“Those fish cost more than a sports car,” I said.

“Then we’ll find someone else,” Wes reassured.

“No one wants to go anywhere with me.”

“I do,” Wes said.

“You don’t count. You’re tough enough my bad luck can’t hurt you, and you’re nice to everyone.”

“We just need to keep looking,” he repeated.

“Is there anyone left?” I questioned with doubt.

Wes put his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the street. I didn’t mean to kill the mood, but lucky for me, Wes was good at picking it back up.

“What if we sneak you into the festival?”

He spoke so casually I had to believe he thought it was a good idea.

“We don’t have to tell my parents you’re going if you don’t go with me. It would be so easy. We go by ourselves and meet up when we get there,” he continued.

“It's definitely "a plan, " but I don’t have the money for a plane ticket without my dad’s help. He wouldn’t let me go anywhere that far away by myself anyway,” I said before he could further spin out into his bad idea.

Before going home, Wes and I took a bit of a detour and went into town. Daybreak was modern enough to have cellphones and TVs, but so dated that most buildings looked faded and in need of a paint job.

There were three places to hang out when I didn’t want to go home. The Dead Woods was a great place for parties, but often a trouble magnet. Uptown Mall was the closest thing to the modern world within city limits, but lacking a job meant window shopping was the best I could do when I paid a visit. There was Mabel’s Marble Slab, an ice-cream shop that doubled as an 80s themed arcade. The retro lights, old school games, and classic milkshakes made it a good place to zone out. Not to mention my unnaturally bad luck never seemed to hurt me there. My curse made it impossible to win a simple game of Tetris, but at least the ceiling never crashed over my head.

Wes and I had a usual table in the back, close to the kitchen doors. I would have steered clear of sitting there since the swinging doors could have hit me, but Wes thought sitting closer to the food would mean quicker service. His strength and speed were natural abilities, but they required a lot of energy.

That’s how most fae abilities worked. Their natural gifts came with drawbacks and equalizers. I suppose all magic was like that, in a way. Though the cost of most spells was typically money.

My friend had a big appetite. While he wasn't much bulkier than me, he definitely had a toned physique. Unless he made it a priority, he wouldn't have put on a lot of muscle. Why would he bother? His physical gifts came from burning energy, not from building his body. Maybe he could have done both. Either way, from what I could tell, he had to eat enough for two people if he wanted strength enough to lift a car. Without calories to burn, Wes was as strong, or maybe as weak, as a human.

“What does STR even mean?” I asked while I watched him devour plates of meat and glasses of ice cream.

“Super Together Rainbow, or something. It just sounds cool,” he said.

“So, it doesn’t mean anything,” I said sarcastically.

“People love acronyms,” he replied.

“But people don’t love me.”

“Dude, keep your gloom and doom away from my shake.”

“It’s alright, I think BJ and I are getting those internships, so at least I’ll have something to do this summer.”

“Don’t give up hope. We've got time. And anyone can be a ride along,” Wes said with a mouth full of French fries.

His cheerful demeanor was enough to make me tired, trying to keep up.

“Why don’t we invite BJ?”

“No way, man,” he swallowed his mouthful before trying to continue, but I already cut him off.

“Listen, I mean, what if we told your mom we invited BJ?”

“But she wouldn’t actually come?” He asked as I passed a handful of napkins across the table for him to clean his face.

“Exactly.”

“That ... that could work, but what if my mom asks BJ’s parents about something or whatever?” Wes asked before getting to his feet.

“We’ll have to get BJ in on it,” I said.

“And you think she’ll help us?”

“I think she’ll help me.”

“Great,” Wes said as he stood next to the table with his hands in his pockets.

“You didn’t bring any money, did you?” I asked with a low brow, realizing I was stuck with the bill.

The school year ended on Friday, signaling the official start of summer break on Saturday. My vacation's future was still unclear. BJ and I were waiting to hear back from the internship, and I needed to convince her to help Wes and me if I wanted to go to STR.

I was such a terrible asshole.

How could I ask BJ to do something for me so I could choose to spend the summer with Wes over her? It didn’t even sound right in my head. But the festival was obviously going to be less work than an internship. Neither option was without back drafts, but at least STR had a chance of my getting laid before my senior year.

Still, nothing made me feel better.

I killed a chunk of my Saturday morning sleeping in. By the time I left my bedroom, Dad had already gone off to work. The cable was out. My cooking skills were lacking. I had broken my game console a few weeks prior when a video game spirit haunted me. In short, there was nothing to do at my place, not by myself, so I left.

Knowing BJ, she was probably kick-starting her summer break somewhere out in the woods, trying out new spells. I never understood why she tried so hard to be a magician. She didn’t need the money. Her family owned enough spells that she could have done anything, but she wouldn’t even use them.

If my family had the same money or spells as BJ, I don't know what I would have done, but I would have been better off. It’s not like anyone was forcing her to be like her parents. In fact, I knew for a fact her parents didn’t want her to be a magician at all. They knew how dangerous it was. Everyone knew how dangerous it could be. Then again, I doubt I’d have recognized BJ without her dedication. Maybe had she relaxed more, she and Wes could have gotten along better.

As expected, I found BJ out in the woods.

All I had to do was follow the sound of exploding wood and bugs being sent to their graves. Approaching her from the cover of bushes and trees, I should have made my presence more apparent. She was in the middle of a spell when I stepped into view. Startled by my sudden appearance, she accidentally hit me with a cloud of lightning. I went flying across the forest floor, yelling for mercy. My slide went on and on until a tree abruptly ended it with a harsh crash that nearly uprooted it.

All of a sudden, I felt better about my intentions.

After BJ rushed over to help me back to my feet, and I brushed the mud and grass off my clothes, I presented her with my request.

“No,” she said.

“But you don’t have to actually go,” I added.

“I’m not going to lie to my parents. Not for Wes.”

“You wouldn’t be lying for Wes...you’d be lying for me,” I said, knowing it hadn’t made anything better.

“Pitch, I can’t believe you would let Wes talk you into something like this.”

“It was my idea,” I said hesitantly.

“That’s worse.”

I thought she’d have been warmer after hitting me with a lightning storm, but no, she was cold.

“I’m not asking you to commit murder. It’s a little white lie,” I debated.

“Even if I were ok with this scheme, it wouldn’t do any good,” she said.

“And why not?”

She paused and gave me a look. It was joy bubbling up to the surface, though she had tried to hold it back. I didn’t understand until she spoke.

“Because we’ve been accepted. We got the internships,” she said.

It was good news. It was fantastic news. I didn’t have to work as a fry cook or something lame all summer.

“It starts next Tuesday at the town’s theater,” she said.

“So, you won’t lie because you don’t want me to go with Wes?” I asked with a twinge of attitude.

“This internship will make us bigger, brighter people. A festival won’t help undo your curse.”

“What if I just want to have fun this summer? What if I don’t care about turning back anymore?”

“Is that true?” she asked, knowing the answer.

It took me a moment to respond. Ironically, I couldn’t lie.

“... No, but shouldn’t I have the choice?” I spoke.

“You should have a choice, but I won’t help you make a decision I feel is wrong.”

“Of course you won’t. Have you even told your parents about the internship yet? How do you know they’ll let you go?”

“Because they will,” she exclaimed in a heated tone.

There was a brief silence. Even the woods fell dead to highlight the tension further. I didn’t want to hurt BJ’s feelings. Of course, I wanted to go with the laziest choice, but BJ was right. The internship had the potential to help me in ways that could forever change my future.

“Congratulations,” I said.

I wanted to chill the atmosphere, and I thought acknowledging the good news we glossed over could help.

“I know you think STR will be more fun, but I promise the internship can be too,” she said.

“It’s still nice to have the choice,” I replied, almost exhausted by our back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I can’t make the decision any easier.”

“Why do you need me to go with you? You got in?” I asked.

“With your spell?” she joked.

“And one of your own.”

“Do you know why I want to be a magician?” She asked suddenly.

“Because your parents are magicians.”

“There’s more to it.”

A breeze caressed the forest floor, blowing leaves into the air. We took to a nearby tree stump before BJ continued. She put away her book, and I tried to dust myself off further. I wasn’t prepared for what she said next.

“My family has money, and power, and magic, but I don’t,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“When my sisters turned 21, our parents evicted them from the house. Father said it was time they went out and found their own magic. They didn’t have access to the family grimoire. They were cut out of the accounts, and they weren’t allowed to see me unless I went to visit them away from the house. They couldn’t come back until they were financially stable on their own.”

“That’s terrible,” I said.

I didn’t have the emotional intelligence to articulate my understanding when it came to hardships and tragedies. I didn’t want to come off as unfeeling or unphased. It was hard to know how to react when faced with something of that caliber without warning.

“And the same will happen to me when I turn 21. Pitch, I’m not good at anything. I can hardly take care of myself, but my family has always been good at magic, so that’s what has to save me,” BJ said.

She didn’t look at me. She wouldn’t make eye contact, but it may have been for the best. The way her voice approached cracks and breaks told me she was uneasy.

“I’m sure there’s something else you can do,” I said.

I wanted to comfort her, but BJ was strong. She didn’t cry.

“There’s nothing, but if I become a great magician like my mother and father, it won’t matter,” she said with hope in her tone that broke the negative gravity.

Still, she paused, and I didn’t think it right to interrupt her.

“I know you don’t like magic, but there aren’t many people who’ve made their own spells. Having you around, regardless of how unlucky you are, makes me feel a little hope.”

That might have been one of the nicest things BJ ever said to me.

“Honestly, if you can make magic, then I should be able to do wonders,” she added jokingly.

And just like that, she knocked the wind out of a perfectly good compliment and almost made it an insult.

“I understand now, but you know I still have to help Wes, don’t you? He wants me with him as much as you do,” I explained.

“That’s fine, but I won’t help you choose against me,” she said.

Once again, I found myself alone while walking home from the woods.

I loved my friends. Some days, they literally gave me a reason to get out of bed. But sometimes it was nice to be by myself.

When I was with Wes, he made me feel comfortable in my skin. But being comfortable ultimately meant giving up on a cure. BJ always pushed me to be better than I was. She saw something in me, but what I was could never be enough.

Wes was happy with me the way that I was while BJ saw what I could be. Those were the actual choices. Spend my summer coming to terms with my reality or spend it making a new one.

Sometimes, I hated how much walking I had to do around town, but those were the moments when life was most clear. My walk home gave me a chance to breathe.