Something Wicked

by Sterling, Jillian

  "Hey," he said, walking over to me and gently lifting my chin so our eyes would meet. "I'd be jealous, too. I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

  "Oh Finn's not my..." I stopped quickly. He wasn't my boyfriend, or was he? It was hard to say. "We have things we need to work out, that's all."

  I turned back to the toilet and plunged the brush into the bowl, my mind whirling as I scrubbed. Finn and I had sex because I needed the spell to work. Then we had more sex just to make sure. Then did it once more for good luck. It seemed like each time we did the deed, there was the spell to consider. Not that it wasn't important, but it would have been nice if we made love just because we wanted to. I mean, I wanted to. Did he?

  "Iz? Izzy?" Danny's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Dinner?'

  "What?" I asked.

  "Do you have plans for dinner?"

  "Do I?" I asked, twisting around to look at him.

  "If you let me take you out, you do," he smiled.

  "Shit," I sighed, my body dropping from exhaustion. "I can't. I'm working through dinner."

  "What do you mean? You're usually done here by 6 right?"

  "I picked up someone's shift. I have to clean the English department."

  "Bummer," he said. "What time you get off?"

  "Late," I sighed. "And it's a commercial gig, so by the time I'm done, I am exhausted. Not great company."

  The thought of tonight's work made my muscles cry in protest. They were still exhausted from last night's physical exertion with Finn. But the commercial gig was good money and I needed it. And Johnny didn't bail that often so I needed to take advantage of it.

  "Too bad," he said with a shrug. "Maybe another time."

  "Maybe," I said noncommittally, turning back to my toilet.

  "See you around, then," he said before slinking away, leaving me alone to tackle the dirty bathroom.

  If there really was something going on between Finn and myself, it wasn't fair to lead Danny on. But I definitely didn't want to piss him off either, since he was the only thing standing between me and homelessness.

  With my resolve firm, I Spic n' Spanned the hell out of that bathroom for the next hour, and blew out of the frat house without running into Danny, which suited me just fine. After a quick pit stop for a coffee and donut, I was lugging the huge floor buffer down the hallway of Philip E. Austin Building. The back pocket of my jeans began vibrating and, in my haste to answer the phone, I ripped the denim, leaving a good-sized hole just above my right ass cheek.

  "Hello?" I said breathlessly, hoping it was Finn. He'd been MIA since last night.

  "Izzy?" Johnny's voice was low, and he was someplace really loud.

  "Johnny? What's up? I can barely hear you."

  "Iz, I'm in a bit of trouble."

  "Did you say trouble?'

  "I'm in jail."

  "Speak up, Johnny. I swear you just said you were in jail."

  "I did say I was in jail."

  "Jail? Why are you in jail?"

  "I can't talk about it now. Do you have 500 bucks?"

  "Five hundred dollars?" I choked. "I don't have that sort of liquidity."

  "It's just a loan. I'll pay you back."

  "It's not that," I said. "I really do not have 500 dollars laying around. I barely have $50 to get through the week."

  He was quiet on the other end. I clearly heard a guy near him let loose a string of swears before the sounds of an ass whopping drowned him out. "Can't you call your parents?"

  "From jail?" he squeaked.

  "I'm almost done with my shift," I sighed. "Then I'll be by to spring you. Please tell me you are not in Hartford."

  "I'm in Willimantic," he said, and I exhaled in relief. If he was in Hartford, I'd have to drop everything to get there. Not a good place for a skinny college boy to hang out. "You have the money?"

  "I'll figure something out," I grumbled into the phone before hanging up. Maybe jails take credit cards.

  I turned on the floor buffer, gripping the handles so it didn't skip down the hall without me. The vibrations made my teeth chatter. It took me about an hour to finish up the floor. Tempting as it was to rush through it, I didn't want to jeopardize any future work. Plus, it was Johnny's gig and I didn't want to lose it for him. That fool needed to pay me back. Sitting in the damn Willi-jail. What the hell did he get himself into?

  Dragging the machine behind me, I headed for the janitorial closet to lock it away for the night. But the loud boom of the entryway door slamming shut halted my steps. Who would be in the English department at 11 PM in late August? Classes weren't starting for a few more days. Nerves made my stomach muscles tighten, while the surge of adrenaline made me lightheaded. I recalled that I only ate a donut for dinner. Maybe I was hungry.

  "Izzy?" A familiar male voice echoed up the stairway. "Izzy, are you upstairs?"

  I ducked into an entryway to a classroom and pressed myself against the wall, trying to keep my imagination in check. It was hard to erase the horror movie playing on a loop in my mind. Psycho killer with an ax, creeping through an empty building, kills college co-ed.

  "Izzy? It's Danny. Are you still here?"

  Relaxing, I took a few steadying breaths before calling out. "I'm upstairs."

  I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and caught sight of Danny's hair just as he hit the first landing. He carried a brown paper bag.

  "Danny, you scared the crap out of me," I said, finally extracting myself from the wall. "What are you doing here?"

  "Bringing you dinner!" He grinned and held out the bag.

  "Wow," I responded, taken completely off guard.

  "It's nothing crazy," he said quickly. "Cheeseburger and fries. I knew you liked them. Didn't want to try tacos or something, you know, in case you don't like spicy food."

  "Thank you, this was so sweet of you," I said, genuinely touched by what he did. "But..."

  His face sank. "What's the but?"

  "I have to go bail a friend out of jail. It's Johnny actually. You know, my cleaning partner."

  That perked him up, like he was almost impressed. "No shit? Johnny's in jail. Don't tell me Hartford?"

  I shook my head no. "Willimantic."

  He looked as relieved as I was when Johnny told me the same thing.

  "So take five minutes to eat," he insisted. "Did you even eat dinner?"

  "I had a donut," I shrugged. "It's not that. I have to scrape up 500 bucks to bail him out. I don't have that kind of cash sitting around."

  Danny reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Five hundred, you said. Right?"

  He pulled out five crisp one hundred dollar bills and handed them to me.

  "I can't take this!" I exclaimed.

  His voice was matter-of-face. "You're not. Johnny is."

  "He's good for the money. I promise."

  "I trust you. Besides I know where he works," Danny teased. "Come on, how about I drive you to the jail and we'll bail him out. You can eat the burger in the car on the way. I mean, if that's okay with you?"

  A wave of relief slammed into me, grateful not to have to do this on my own. I didn't know the first thing about bailing someone out of jail.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Police stations have unflattering lighting. That was my first takeaway from my first visit to the Willimantic Police Department to bail Johnny out of the clink. Danny looked completely washed out under the harsh fluorescent lights. Not like I was too concerned about my own appearance. I spent most of the afternoon and evening buffing floors and cleaning toilets. Not exactly living the glamorous life.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked confidently up to the desk sergeant. "I am here to post bail?" I tried to sound confident, but it came out as a meek question. I crumbled under the pressure of the cops.

  She barely glanced up from her computer. "Who you bailing out, honey?"

  "Johnny Aberdeen," I said.

  "That little whelp?" she asked with a snicker. The mention of Johnny's name pulled her
attention to me and she gave me a quick once over. I fidgeted, straightening my sweaty polo shirt. "You need to tell that boy to pick on someone his own size next time."

  "You've seen Johnny, right?" I blurted out. "He's like 150 pounds soaking wet."

  "And that's exactly what I mean," she clucked. "Poor thing. He lost."

  I groaned, hoping an ER trip wasn't added to tonight's schedule. "What do I need to do?"

  "Five hundred dollars," she said, pulling papers out of a file. "And you need to sign some forms." She passed said forms over to me, and handed me a clipboard. "Take a seat over there, fill those out, and we'll start processing."

  With my butt planted in a hard, bright orange, bucket seat, I filled out the forms while Danny handed over the money and waited for a receipt.

  A familiar shrill voice screeched down the hallway. "What do you mean bailed out? He's a menace! We could have died!"

  Gritting my teeth into a tense smile, I looked up as Tara turned the corner, flipping her perfect hair when she saw me sitting in my toilet water splattered clothes.

  "What are you doing here?" she snarked at me. "Are you the one bailing out that punk?"

  Finn turned the corner, stopping just beside Tara. She placed a perfectly manicured hand protectively on his arm.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked Finn, my mouth dropping in shock. I closed it quickly and stood up, smoothing out my rumpled clothes, suddenly self-conscious in my crappy old clothes. I pulled the scratchy polo shirt down to cover the hole above my back pocket.

  "He's with me," Tara said, beaming. Then she lowered her voice to an excited squeak. "You know, the spell worked!"

  I felt like I took a sucker punch to the gut. My jello legs were barely holding me up, and I dropped my head, keeping them from seeing the tears welling in my eyes..

  "Izzy..." Finn started, but raised my hand to stop him.

  "Are you pressing charges?" I asked, my voice icy while my insides burned.

  "He really didn't hurt—" Finn was interrupted by Tara.

  "But he could have, and that's the point. And I broke a nail," she whined.

  "Poor thing," I seethed. "So, this is who you wanted the love potion for?" I jerked my thumb in Finn's direction.

  Her mascaraed eyes opened wide, and she gave a fast shake of her head. "Love potion? Honestly, Iz. Are you feeling okay?"

  She tittered out a tiny, nervous laugh.

  "No, I'm not feeling okay," I said, leveling my eyes at Finn.

  "Danny Stevenson!" Tara exclaimed as Danny came over, finally finished paying the desk sergeant. "What are you doing here?"

  "Helping out a friend," he smiled, handing the receipt to me.

  "A friend? You mean that little thug?"

  "Any friend of Izzy's is a friend of mine."

  "Aw, aren't you sweet. By the way, how do you know Izzy?" Tara asked, then a look of amused recognition crossed her face. "Oh that's right! She's your cleaning lady!"

  That set her off into a peal of laughter. My fists were balled so tight, my nails dug into my palms and my knuckles turned white.

  "She's had a bit too much to drink. Again," Finn said apologetically.

  Danny cleared his throat and I wondered what, exactly, was making him uncomfortable. Tara's laughing at him? (Well, at me, really.) Or did he crumble under the wry amusement that she expressed at the thought of our pairing?

  A loud buzz interrupted our awkward silence. I heard the click of an electronic lock and a heavy door open then slam shut. An officer brought Johnny into the room. I gasped at the shiner that was just developing around his left eye. Tara just glared.

  "Thanks, Iz," he said quietly, rubbing his wrists, probably where the handcuffs cut in. He didn't look in Finn or Tara's direction.

  I turned to leave. "Let's just get out of here, okay?" Johnny nodded and gave me a relieved smile. and we both walked quickly for the exit.

  "Izzy!" Finn called after me. But rather than respond, I just hastened my steps.

  It wasn't until we got through the front door of the police station that we stopped. I pulled Johnny under a light and grabbed his chin, gently moving his head around to get a better look at his black eye.

  "Hurt much?" I asked, and he just shrugged in response. "So what was this all about?"

  He looked sheepish. "You know that girl I told you about?" He turned his head and glanced at the police station behind us.

  "Wait a second," I said, my brain piecing together the events. "Tara? She was your mysterious date to Gamers Gambit?"

  He looked at the pavement. "The whole thing was a joke. To her and her friends. Just a great big joke."

  "Oh Johnny," I said, my heart breaking for him. "I am so sorry."

  "How can you even stand them, Izzy?" his voice cracked.

  "I could ask the same thing of you," I said gently. "I mean, Tara?"

  "She liked my sketches," he said sadly. "She wanted me to draw a tattoo for her. And I did, and she loved it, and we talked about art and stuff. I thought we were getting along great. And then..."

  The fastest way to an artist's heart was to complement his work.

  "And she used you," I sighed. "I'm so sorry." My heart was now breaking for both of us.

  "Did you know she was dating your housemate?" he asked.

  "Dating? They aren't dating," I sniffed. "I mean, I didn't think they were dating."

  "Well, it looked like they were." Johnny shrugged. "He's the one that clocked me."

  "Why?" I asked. "I mean, you didn't start all this?"

  "No, I just told Tara that I'd tell you that I saw them together, and that set him off."

  "Seriously? You didn't confront her or anything?"

  "Not really. I just said something about how she blew me off and then she said something about how she had a boyfriend and kind of clutched at your housemate. And when I said I'd let Izzy know I saw them, he just flipped."

  "He just punched you?"

  "Yeah, he just punched me," he said. "Well, I mean, I called him a few things first, but I don't think that's what set him off."

  Exhausted, I dropped to the ground and sat on the steps leading into the station. "Sounds like he didn't want me to know about them."

  "Why? You guys have a thing going on?" Johnny asked, plopping down beside me.

  "I guess not. I mean, I don't know what I was thinking. He has a different girl over a few times a week. Why did I think I would be any different?" I responded, resting my head on his shoulder. "We're both pathetic."

  "Yeah, seems like it," he said with a little laugh. "For what it's worth, Tara thought the punch was on her account, but I don't think so. He seemed more upset when I mentioned you."

  "Well, Grams always said guys liked to sew wild oats, I guess I'm the oats."

  "Maybe Tara's the oats?"

  "I doubt that." My tone turned melancholy. "Girls like her are caviar. Girls like me?"

  "Oats?" he asked, this time leaning his head on mine. "For what it's worth, oatmeal cookies are way better than fish eggs."

  "You know what, Johnny? I agree." I laughed a little and wiped at my eyes.

  The door to the police station creaked open. We both turned at the same time, and Danny walked out.

  "You two okay here?" he asked, giving us a strange look.

  "We're just commiserating," I said. "What do you think—oats or caviar?"

  "Oats or caviar?" he repeated, mildly flirtatious. "What do you think?"

  "I'm going with caviar," Johnny said, clearly unimpressed that Danny just posted his bail. "Do you mind dropping me home? I just want a hot shower and my bed."

  "Do you live on campus?" Danny asked.

  "No, in Willimantic."

  "He lives a few blocks away from me," I said. "You may as well just drop me home too."

  "What about your car?"

  "Amanda can take me to campus in the morning," I said. Johnny stood, giving his legs a stretch. Danny extended his hand to help me up, but I scrambled up on my own. I ignore
d his pout.

  As we headed across the parking lot to Danny's Land Rover, I stifled a yawn. I was running on fumes. It was a long day, and I was working on little sleep. I tried to push the memory of last night with Finn out of my mind. The spell worked, and I should be relieved. The sorority business would definitely continue. Finn was drop-dead-gorgeous, so the potions business would boom now, all those girls wanting to snag their own Finn. Potions were one of the most lucrative items at The Witchery. Maybe I'd bring in enough money to quit the cleaning gig. Maybe I'd finally be able to finish school. Why wasn't I thrilled?

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  "So, um...thanks," I said awkwardly, fumbling with the door handle to Danny's Land Rover. We had just dropped Johnny off at his apartment, so it was just Danny and me in front of my very dark house. Amanda wasn't home and Finn was... Well, I didn't want to imagine where Finn was. And that was part of the problem. My imagination was running wild.

  "Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

  "For what?" I blurted out, panic edged around my voice.

  "Coffee? Tea?"

  "It's late, Danny," I started, but he shook his head.

  "It's just past midnight," he scoffed. "What kind of college student are you? Besides, we have a few things to talk about."

  "Like what?"

  "The money you owe on this house, for one," he said, nodding at the old Victorian. It looked kind of spooky in the dark.

  "That is definitely not a midnight conversation," I insisted. "And wouldn't we be better off in a lawyers office? Or at a bank?"

  "Izzy," he laughed. I guess it was supposed to break the tension, but I found it kind of hollow. Creepy. "This is not an official conversation. I want to help you. Like I helped your friend tonight."

  He stretched his arm and let it hang loosely over the back of my car seat. He ran his fingertips along my shoulder, the scratch of the cheap polyester fabric from my shirt played in my right ear.

  I turned to look directly at him, shaking his fingers off as I moved. "I appreciate your offer to help, I really do. But I can manage. We don't need to mix anything up."

  "Mix what up?" he asked. Then his questioning expression transformed into a knowing smile. "You mean like this?"