Joyful shouting echoed in the large community pool, strangers thrashing around Jefferson as he argued with his friends. They were setting up a favorite game “sharks and minnows”, and they wanted Jefferson to be the shark first. Except he loathed being the shark.
He was shorter than his friends, by over a head and a half. His parents always said he’d grow, that children with magic always hit their growth spurt a little later than non-magic users. Something about the magic being a drain on the body’s nutrients, so it grows slower. Explanations Jefferson couldn’t explain to his normal friends when they teased him relentlessly.
“Come on, Jefferson, everyone’s got to have their turn being the shark first.”
Jefferson scrunched up his nose. “I never catch anyone in this game.”
It wasn’t that he was a weak swimmer. He could beat world records when he infused his magic into his muscles. But that was cheating, and using magic in front of others was forbidden. And punishments were . . . harsh.
The other kids laughed. Anger burned in his veins, his magic so close to the surface.
His friends kicked off, swimming away and taunting him with insults. They knew he couldn’t catch them, that he was the weakest. And they thought this was funny?
Anger burned in his veins, and his magic gained its own will.
A small, live shark swarm in the pool next to him. Jefferson smirked.
If he couldn’t catch his friends, a real shark could.
Rules be damned.
For more enchanting Wednesday Words by other authors, check out the official Wednesday Words page!