Magic IRL

No Words

My mother will say 3,876,037 more words to me before one of us dies.

"Hurry up, Antoine, you're going to be late for your first day of school," she says.

I watch the translucent blue numbers above her head tick down. 3,876,023 words left. It's a big, comfortable number—a rock in my life.

"I'm coming, ma," I say, tightening up the laces on my shiny white sneakers.

My dad used to say that you always need a new pair of shoes for your first day of school. He's gone, but the tradition has persisted.

"Are you nervous?" Mom asks once we're in the car.

"Not really," I say.

And it's true. We've moved around a lot, but the Numbers have always made beginnings easy. It's the endings that have brought me trouble.

"Good, you shouldn't be," she says, smiling. "You're great, and you're going to do great."

I roll my eyes. "Mom, I don't need a pep talk."

She laughs. "I'm not giving you a pep talk, Antoine. Just telling you how it is."

I laugh too. I might not want to admit it, but her words do mean a lot to me. I am thankful I still have millions of them.

#

The schoolyard of Peckings High is bustling with students of all stripes—massive athletes that are inexplicably 15-years old, skaters sneaking drags of cigarettes, preps with lunch pails and oversized backpacks.

I take a deep breath and scan the translucent blue numbers hovering above the crowd.

4,326 over a girl with a bright pink bag. Hmm, perhaps we'll have a mutual acquaintance or sit next to each other on a bus ride.

52,002 over a boy with a cast on his leg. Not a best friend, but we'll have some classes together.

34 over a boy wearing cargo pants. Likely a single terse exchange.

And then I see it. 5,557,862 words. The largest word count I have ever seen.

He has bushy blonde hair and a long gaunt face. His shirt is bright red with a picture of a rabbit in a monocle captioned with the phrase Money, Bunny. He's talking excitedly to a circle of boys, all of whom also have six- or low-seven-figure numbers floating above their heads.

I grin at the goofy outfit and let out a sigh of relief. The Numbers have not let me down.

"Hi," I say, approaching the group. "I'm Antoine. I just moved to Peckings from Birmingham. Can I join you?"

"Oh Antoine the city boy, nice! I'm Max," the Money Bunny boy says. "And of course you can join us!"

I watch the blue numbers above Max's head tick down as he speaks.

"And it's your lucky day because these guys' names are super easy to remember," he says, gesturing to the group. "The three Js - Jim, Jack, and Jonas."

The three Js all grunt and nod in agreement.

"Cool, good to meet—"

"Just a warning before you get too chummy with us," Max says, his face serious. "We are all complete fucking nerds."

"Oh I'm sure—"

"And not like the mainstream 'oh we watch Marvel movies' kind of nerds that are actually just socially acceptable," Max says. "No, I'm talking about reading fantasy novels, taking pre-AP classes, going to dances alone—"