Andrew stared at the oddly bent object on the ground with some level of intrigue. He rubbed his knee at the spot where it had hit him just moments before and wondered what miraculous bone or muscle in his body had caused it to become so distorted. He decided to fix it before whoever threw it came along and asked unnecessary questions.

He raised an arm and the ball floated slowly upwards and began to recover its original shape. It was a spell to revert objects to a previous state. His grandmother had insisted on his memorizing it since the cats were always breaking things around the house. At least it was coming in handy outside of broken dishware. If the owner of the ball saw the state it was in, Andrew would definitely be found out.

Just as the ball became perfectly round again and fell to the ground beside him, a gruff voice called out "Have you seen a-"

The owner of the voice stopped short, looked down at the ball, and then up at Andrew. Andrew recognized him right away. Light hair, blue eyes, bruises and scratches all over his arms and legs- he was the infamous Zen.

Andrew picked up the ball and tossed it over to him. He knew for sure that the other boy hadn't witnessed him denting or fixing the ball, so he wondered why Zen continued gaping at him. Even after he took the ball, Zen had stood and stared while Andrew swiftly walked away.

Zen had a reputation around their part of town as the local troublemaker. He was in a different class, but Andrew knew that he had no friends in school (much like Andrew). He skipped school a lot (also like Andrew). But unlike Andrew, he had several bad rumors surrounding him. Some said he was a part of a local gang. Some said in his previous school, he bullied a kid until he left town. Some said he tortured stray animals for fun.

All of it sounded quite farfetched to Andrew and he didn't really believe most of them. Mostly because they were broadcasted by the same people who spread rumors about him dating Caroline and being an obnoxious jerk. Zen's various scars and bruises were questionable to be sure, but maybe he was just really sporty.

All things considered, Andrew regarded Zen as a kindred soul. Not that he would go out of his way to associate with him due to the similar nature of their situations- disliked in general for no good reason and lack of companionship- but he had an odd sense of respect for him. So the strange meeting had left him in a sense of utter confusion.

It felt as though the balance between their existences was upset; like they were two entities who co-existed at the same sort of pace but were never supposed to interact. And now that they had, it felt like that imaginary balance Andrew had constructed in his mind was shifting. More so because of how Zen had reacted.

If he had simply taken the ball and left, Andrew might not have thought much of it. But the way he watched Andrew with his calm demeanor and cool eyes, as though he could see right through him... Andrew was worried. Could it be that he saw him using magic? He realized that he might have been overthinking the whole incident and decided to try to think no further about it. That, however, proved to be difficult. The entire day, whenever he passed by Zen, each time without fail, they made eye contact. The Zen who never gave his existence the slightest bit of acknowledgement before that incident, now looked him directly in the eyes. The attention made Andrew uneasy since he was used to being treated more like a background prop. When classes were over for the day, Zen waited for him outside. "Come with me for a bit," he said when Andrew had come out. They walked to a nearby park in silence.

Zen threw and caught the football with his knee, not once letting it fall to the ground. As a person with no natural talent for sports, Andrew found what he was doing to be quite amazing. He had thought that only professional sportsmen were capable of such feats. Nevertheless, the atmosphere around them was still quite awkward.

"You know," Zen finally spoke. "People still ask me why I keep this old thing." He pointed to the ball. "A... friend gave this to me when I was a kid." He kneed it high into the air. It sprung up and came down, as though in slow motion.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"When I was a kid, I got into an accident with it."

A cold sweat formed on Andrew's brow.

"It had been in that state since. I tried to get it fixed but every store told me to just buy a new one," at which point he smiled at Andrew. "How'd you do it?"

"I..."

Honestly there were very few times over the course of his life that Andrew had ever felt stupid. Not that he thought of himself as a highly intelligent being, but surely he was not stupid? That being said, he could not comprehend what had possessed him at that time to have thought that his bones were so strong and magical that they had dented a football on the spot.

"I..." Andrew tried again, and failed to form even one measly sentence.

Zen laughed a short and pleasant laugh. "I'm just grateful. I'm not interrogating you or anything."

"I... uh, I..." Andrew said for the umpteenth time, yet again lacking a proper string of words to follow up with.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. For all I know, there could be some secret art to it. You don't have to tell me anything!" He paused. "But I'd like it if you did."

Andrew said nothing. The atmosphere felt thick. His eyes naturally fell to the ground and stayed there as though the world's most interesting grass grew on it. Zen seemed to understand that he was unwilling to talk. "Well, I'll see you around, bud!" he said and walked away. Andrew stood for a few moments in silence. He took a deep breath.

In his mind, he swiftly had a debate with an imaginary Zen.

A: "For all you know, in the span of a minute, someone else could have fixed it and run away and I just happened to find it all fixed when you walked in!"

Z: "I see, that makes sense. You win."

Andrew won the imaginary debate in one go. Real life wasn't that easy. He wondered if it would be safe for him to try and alter Zen's memories. Grandma once mentioned a spell like that but she also said that using it without mastering it could make the subject's head explode. Or, at least, damage their brain for life.

Andrew decided that he did not want to harm Zen regardless. He was unexpectedly different from how Andrew thought he'd be. The Zen that Andrew had imagined was at least somewhat of a bully who listened to death metal and would only smile when he felt the warm sensation of blood on his knuckles. The Zen he spent ten minutes stupidly mumbling with was understanding, had a pleasant laugh, and was emotionally attached to a football. He seemed like a decent guy. Andrew decided that he was glad he had the chance to interact with him and have their imaginary balance thrown off. Then he remembered how close Zen was to finding out the truth about him. He knew that with so little to do throughout his uneventful life, it would bother him every minute of every day. He knew he had to talk to him and make things right for himself.

But after that day, Zen seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Andrew spent a good twelve minutes planning what to say to him and a good thirteen and half hours editing it. It was all for naught as the person in question hadn't bothered coming to school the next day... or any other day in the subsequent week. In fact, Andrew (who had skipped school whenever the chance presented itself) had been regularly attending in order to run into him. It was frustrating and when he could hold it in no longer, he decided to take direct action.

After school one day, Andrew asked Zen's class teacher if he knew the reason for Zen's absence. The old man didn't seem to have a clue as to whom he was referring to. In fact, he didn't even seem to be very much awake. Andrew understood there was no point in trying to elicit any further information from the drowsy and incompetent teacher. Asking the rest of the staff proved pointless too so he decided to take direct action 2.0.

Unlike his grandmother, Andrew wasn't very proficient with magic. The most Andrew learned to do was make things float or create glowing stars for his own aesthetic pleasure. And of course, the occasional spell or two to do things like fix broken plates (and apparently footballs). He hated having to resort to using magic beyond that (though he often did).

Andrew searched his bookshelf and pulled out three books. Behind them, was a small compartment hidden in his wall. He opened it and took out a black leather bound notebook with a red gem in the center. Andrew gingerly rubbed a finger against it, and the gem turned purplish in color. If one opened the notebook without doing that, one would find the pages blank. When the gem turned purple, the pages of the notebook yellowed like that of ancient parchment and words rose from the depths of the paper. Andrew swiftly flipped through it, and skimmed the pages in the middle until he found what he desired. A person-finding spell.