Poltergeeks by Sean Cummings

because I spotted his skinny legs sticking out of a trash can like a pair of denim-covered chopsticks. His backpack had been ripped open and his homework was spread out all over the floor along with his textbooks.
      The culprit? Why, it was none other than Mike Olsen, Crescent Ridge's star defensive back. At six foot two, with perfectly manicured black hair framing a chiselled face with sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes that can glamour most females better than any vampire, Mike is a physical specimen best suited for steroid advertisements. He's also a class-A jerk who started picking on Marcus in grade five and hasn't let up ever since.
      Okay, I might have actually had something to do with Mike's hate-on for Marcus when I slipped the goon a potion that basically gave him a mild form of dysentery, this after he humiliated Marcus at the school convocation last year. Marcus was called up onto the stage to accept an award for academic achievement and Mike Olsen felt that it was important to cough out the world 'loser' loud enough for everyone to hear. This led to most of the students joining in and Marcus was laughed off the stage.
      That and I kind of stood outside Mike Olsen's bedroom two nights later to watch him screaming hysterically after I guided a harmless chaos spirit through his window. Mike has his suspicions about me but he'd never dare admit them in a thousand years because to do so would be insane for someone so popular. So yeah, the guy bugs the hell out of me and I hate that Marcus can't stand up for himself because he'd get his skinny ass handed to him if he were ever to try.
      "You don't look like you've had a healthy breakfast today, Guffman," Mike taunted, as he opened a small carton of milk. "Maybe a shot of two percent will help those brittle bones of yours along."
      "Jerk," I muttered as I made sure nobody was looking. I gathered my magic and whispered a tiny spell. " Hexus ."
      The small carton of two percent burst open in Mike Olsen's hand sending a bone white spray of milk up into his eyes and all over the front of his coveted Crescent Ridge Eagles jacket.
      "Son of a…" Mike snarled, baring his teeth. "What the hell?"
      A crowd of twenty or so students stepped back as Mike spun around and glared at me.
      "You!" he hissed.
      I pointed my index finger into my chest and mouthed the words, "Who me?"
      Mike's eyes narrowed as the milk dribbled down his cheeks and onto his t-shirt. "There's something not right about you and Guffman, freak ! It's the worstkept secret at school."
      I clenched my jaw as I glanced at Marcus who was struggling to climb out of the trash can and then flashed a menacing look at Mike.
      "You know, Mike," I said taking a threatening step forward. "Freaks can be very dangerous people when provoked."
      The air crackled with static electricity and the hallway lights flickered for a moment. Magical energy surged through my body and I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples as Mike stepped back against a wall of Pepto Bismol-coloured lockers. It was everything I could do to stop myself from lashing out at the goon and a large part of me wanted to say the hell with it and just nail him with a hex that would blow him out of his sneakers.
      The corner of his mouth twitched and he took a nervous look around at the growing crowd of spectators. Marcus calmly collected all of the loose leaf paper that was scattered around the trash can and stuffed it in his backpack.
      The giant football player's lips curled up into a thin smile as he squared his shoulders and flashed me a contemptuous glare.
      "Oh… now I get it," he said in a mocking tone. "You're totally into Guffman. Now everything makes perfect sense."
      I stomped up to Mike and dug my index finger in his chest. "This is getting boring, Mikey… what is it now, the eighth time in the last month that you've either stuffed Marcus in a garbage can or locked him in a girl's