North End: The Black Forest

by Amanda Turner

  There is no reason to be angry, I told myself. Miles would not be interested in this girl even if I wasn’t in the picture. It was true. It had nothing to do with her short skirt or makeup. Honestly, in weak moments of insecurity, I wished I had the confidence someone like her had. She could rock an outfit I would never even look at in a store. But Miles was deeper than the surface and I doubt he would be interested in a girl who would attempt to steal another girl’s boyfriend. That wasn’t kind. And that was Miles’ favorite thing about me.

  I bit my lip and hung my head. My behavior today had not been kind. I was immediately glad I held my tongue instead of confronting the girls next to me. All this was making me crazy. I couldn’t wait to see Miles so I would feel more like myself. I rushed through the rest of my makeup and curled the ends of my hair. I asked the girls beside me if I could borrow their hairspray and they let me without a second thought, and I realized I may have judged them too harshly. I tipped my hair over and sprayed my whole head. When I looked in the mirror, my hair was lush and curly. My green eyes sparkled, and flecks of gold shone through. My gold eyeshadow brought out the new color. The makeup hid the dark circles under my eyes and my lips were painted a deep red. I borrowed the color from Lillian’s makeup bag. I looked like a normal person. At least I didn’t appear as manic as I felt.

  When I got back to the room, Ava and Daliah were already dressed and ready to go. “Josie, we’re going to go to a pregame party on the third floor if you want to join,” Daliah offered. She always made sure to invite me anytime they had plans, even if I didn’t accept the offer every time. I appreciated that.

  “Thank you for inviting me, Daliah, but Miles is supposed to be here soon. Have fun!” They hurried out the door. Even if Miles wasn’t coming, I wouldn’t have joined them on this particular outing. Dances were the exception to the usually moderate alcohol consumption on campus. People tended to get a little wild this time of year. The pregame parties consisted of mass amounts of alcohol and that wasn’t really my thing on any day, but especially not tonight. With my mindset, if I had anything to drink tonight, I would probably end up scratching an innocent person’s eyes out because they poured me the wrong drink.

  I was glad to have the room to myself while I got ready. I looked at Lillian’s impossibly small dress hanging on her closet. It was fiery red, almost the exact shade of her hair. It was short and petite like her, with a glittery top and feathers decorating the bottom. It would have fallen just past her knees. It was the perfect dress, and she had known so as soon as she tried it on. I turned my attention to my dress and felt overwhelmed by my gratitude for Professor Rose once again. It was more beautiful than any dress I had ever owned.

  As I ran my fingers over the material, I saw something float to the floor. A piece of paper. I bent down to pick up what I assumed would be a receipt but was surprised when I saw a signature. “Rose.” I picked up the slightly wrinkled paper and read it out loud. It was a note.

  Josie,

  You are a very special young lady, just like your mother. She would want you to have this. Have a lovely evening.

  Rose

  I held the note to my chest for a moment, feeling tears stinging my eyes, before walking to my nightstand and sliding the note in a small, green box in the drawer. There were few items in this box. I reserved it for special things, like my mother’s engagement ring, a card my father bought me on my 13th birthday, and a note Miles wrote me after our first date. This note seemed more than worthy enough to be included in my collection.

  I walked back to my closet and slipped my dress over my head carefully, trying not to smudge my makeup, and turned to look in the only mirror we had in our room. I ran my hands along the lace on the top half, taking in each small detail of the dress. It was long sleeved, and the lace ran until it hit my hips. Then it was only black silk flowing all the way to the ground. I stared at myself for a while thinking of how strange it was that the person in the mirror was me. My outer appearance was so different from the 13-year-old girl who lost her mother those years ago. Mom would hardly recognize me now. My heart yearned for her to be standing beside me, but I knew if there was any way she could see me now she would be watching. Surely the Divinity would allow her to peek through the veil to the mortal world on a night like tonight. I closed my eyes and imagined she was here, picturing her soft features. Her pale skin would be flushed from a wide smile. Her pastel green eyes would sparkle with tears, but not from sadness. From joy. Her light brown hair would be pulled into its usual low bun, and she and Dad would laugh as they snapped pictures of me in ridiculous poses around the room. I heard a knock at the door and my eyes popped open, tearing me away from my perfect dream. I slipped on my heels before rushing to answer it.

  I opened the door to a huge bouquet of black roses—the official flower of Hallow’s Eve. Miles popped his head out from behind them. He wore a huge smile as he said, “Happy Hallow’s Eve!” in a deep, spooky voice. His smile faded as he looked me up and down. “Whoa,” he whispered and shook his head quickly as if he was shaking himself out of some sort of trance. “Uh-wow. You look incredible.”

  “Thank you,” I smiled feeling the blood rush to my cheeks. “So do you.” I looked him up and down and only felt wonderment. What in the world was this beautiful boy doing with me? His hair was pinned back again, and I had almost decided it was my favorite way he wore his hair. His suit was completely black, even down to his undershirt. His eyes were blue again.

  He handed me the flowers, and I said, “Thank you, again.” I was never a sucker for flowers before. My dad never got them for my mom. She said they were pointless since they would only wilt and die. I always felt the same way until the first time Miles brought me the flowers that still sat by my bed. They hadn’t wilted or died thanks to his charm, but even if they had it wouldn’t have mattered to me. The thought of him going out of his way to make me feel special was enough to change my opinion on flowers forever.

  “Are you ready?” He held out his arm and I wrapped mine around it.

  “Ready.” As we walked through the halls of the castle, we passed several other couples. Some were wrapped up in each other, obviously part of a long-term relationship, others were barely holding hands, perhaps a first date, and a few were clearly just two friends who decided to go together. I wondered what people thought of me and Miles. Did they think we were serious or just a flame that would fizzle out?

  As we walked, he asked me about my day and Lillian. I wasn’t fully ready to question him on why his name was signed below mine on the sign-in sheet. I felt pure bliss in this moment and bringing up risky topics would only spoil my mood. I could not bear that thought since this was the happiest I had felt since the night Lillian went missing. I wanted to enjoy this without my paranoia getting in the way. So, I avoided that conversation. Instead, I decided to tell him about the incident in the bathroom.

  “I have something funny to tell you,” I whispered. The girls from the bathroom were in line to enter the ballroom a few groups ahead of us. I could see the girl who was interested in Miles peeking at us in a not-so-discreet manner. Miles looked down at me and raised his eyebrows, curious. “I was getting ready in the bathroom and a girl was talking about her hopes to steal you away from me tonight.”

  “Oh, really?” he laughed, appearing to be genuinely shocked. “Doesn’t she know that would be an impossible task?”

  “‘Impossible’ is a strong word,” I said without thinking, allowing my insecurities to sneak through. I could have kicked myself after. That was the exact opposite thing to say if you really trust someone.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, unfazed. “I’m all yours, Josie.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. My skin tingled as he pulled away. I racked my brain for something romantic to say back. I wasn’t as good with words as Miles, so I simply said, “I feel the same” and hoped it expressed the deep feelings for him that swallowed every part of me.

  When we made it to the front of the line,
we stopped under the archway to take a picture, like all the other couples were doing. There were twinkling yellow lights hanging behind us and orange and black balloons covering the floor. We did a few poses, ending with one where Miles attempted to lift me over his head. He didn’t even come close, but we were howling with laughter by the time we got our snapshots.

  The gym was decorated in its classic way. Tons of lights, balloons, jack-o’-lanterns and ghosts—a nod to the human world. Sculptures of the Divinity and Fallen Angel also decorated the room to represent our world. In previous years, I felt almost invisible when I walked into this ballroom, which didn’t bother me too much since I was instantly anxious anytime I was the center of attention. Only one boy had ever asked me to dance at these events and no heads previously turned when I entered the room, but this year was different. As I glided into the ballroom on Miles’ arm, I couldn’t help but notice several heads turning to gaze in our direction. It made me feel slightly uncomfortable as I would have expected, but strangely proud at the same time because I had a feeling that the heads were not turning for me. Rather, it was my date who was the object of everyone’s affection. And I was the object of his.

  In the middle of the room, the disco ball spun as couples wrapped their arms around each other for the first slow song of the night. “Make You Feel My Love” by Bob Dylan played on the speakers. Miles held out his hand and I took it. He led me to the middle of the dance floor. I draped my arms around his shoulders and my heels were so high that our lips were closer than they had ever been. His hands found their way to my waist. We swayed side to side without saying a word, just looking into each other’s eyes. Miles took one hand from my hip and placed it on my cheek. If my heart beat much faster, surely it would explode. It was hard to describe how I felt. The wholeness swelled in my chest making it difficult to inhale and I imagined this is what people meant when they said something took their breath away.

  I was sure Miles felt it, too, whatever this feeling was. “I’m so in love with you,” he murmured, leaning his lips down, just a little, to press them into mine. He pulled his lips away, but his face stayed close to mine. I pressed my forehead against his and closed my eyes, basking in this feeling.

  “I’m in love with you, too, Miles,” I sighed. The song ended too soon, but the feeling in my chest remained. A fast-paced song came on next. Several students cheered and backed away from their dates to start dancing, but I couldn’t pull myself away from Miles. Even as the dance floor flooded with more students coming from the sidelines I couldn’t look away. A boy who had obviously been to a pregame party was dancing so wildly he bumped into us, nearly toppling over. He steadied himself and kept going without even noticing us. Miles and I laughed and were finally able to pull away from each other. I took a deep breath and let it out loudly.

  “Punch?” I asked, pointing to the table set up to the side. It was overflowing with snacks and drinks.

  “Yeah,” Miles agreed. We drank two cups each and spent the next 30 minutes laughing and dancing like fools. There was no way we looked good, but it was fun. Maybe the most fun I’d had all school year. We both worked up a sweat so while Miles ran to the restroom, I grabbed another glass of punch. I sipped on my Hallow’s Eve themed cup slowly, taking the time to notice the orange background with bat outlines splattered across it, until I saw Frances crossing the room. My heart leapt to my throat. She looked like a model in her four-inch heels. Her dress was short and silver with slinky straps. She looked very similar to the disco ball hanging from the ceilings, but she still walked towards me with confidence. Oh, crap, I thought. Here we go.

  “Josie,” Frances said, stopping in front of me. She was impossibly tall in her heels. Even taller than Miles. I had to tilt my head up to look her in the eyes. I sat my cup down on the table and crossed my arms, preparing myself for whatever was coming next. “I just wanted to say...I’m sorry. About everything.”

  My mouth nearly dropped open as the words left her lips. I searched her face for any hint of sarcasm, but I could see none. She seemed genuine. This could not be real.

  “I know I haven’t been the nicest person these past couple of years,” Frances continued, not taking her eyes off mine. “Honestly, I always felt a little...jealous,” she nearly choked on the word, “of you and your family. Your history is...well, you have some of the most powerful witches of all time in your bloodline. I made it into a competition when it never needed to be one.” I waited patiently for the punchline with my arms still crossed. “And when Lillian was attacked, I felt terrible for the way I treated her, too. I was scared I would never have a chance to apologize. So, your suspicions were right today. I went to see her. I knew then and there that I needed to apologize for my behavior. So, this is me apologizing and hoping we can put all of this behind us.” This had to be tormenting for her to say, but she got through it without a single sarcastic word. Maybe she actually meant it...

  I was silent for a beat. Did I really want to forgive Frances and be her friend? No. But it took guts for her to say this to me. The least I could do is forgive and forget...mostly.

  “Yeah, of course,” I said. “We witches need to stick together, now more than ever. All is forgiven.” It truly wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have Frances on my team. Even though she wasn’t the most likeable person, she was an extremely talented witch.

  “Thank you for your kindness.” She smiled an actual smile and walked away. I felt shocked as I watched her go and wondered what class would be like now that she didn’t hate me. No more snide remarks, no more dirty looks from across the room, no more spells that made me nearly miss class. It was a relief honestly.

  I felt someone hug me from behind and smelled Miles’ cologne instantly. As I turned around to kiss him, I heard my favorite song blast over the speakers. I pulled away and gasped. “Let’s go!” I grabbed my drink and chugged the rest before taking off.

  When we got to the middle of the dance floor, we were swallowed by a sea of other students heading to boogie. We were packed in like sardines, but I managed to throw my hands above my head and sing along, even though the music was so loud not even I could hear my voice. I danced harder than I had all night. Unfortunately, halfway through the song, I started feeling light-headed. It was very stuffy in the middle of the crowd of people dancing and I was feeling claustrophobic. The air was too muggy to breathe properly. “Can we go sit down for a second?” I yelled over the booming music.

  “Sure. Are you feeling okay? You don’t look so good,” Miles said in a concerned tone. He put his arm around my waist as we pushed through the crowd and off the dance floor.

  “I’m okay,” I assured him as he guided me to an empty seat. He sat down beside me. “I just danced too hard, I guess,” I laughed weakly. I felt better now that I was sitting. I wiped my forehead and realized I was sweating.

  “Do you need anything? I can get you water,” Miles offered, but I didn't want him to leave my side. The fuzziness was returning, and I didn’t want to be alone.

  “No, no. Please, don’t leave.” I licked my lips trying to get rid of the dry feeling in my mouth without water. Why was I so thirsty all of the sudden? I had three cups of punch tonight. Maybe someone spiked the punch with alcohol, I giggled to myself and Miles raised one eyebrow. Suddenly, the sign-in sheet popped into my head and for some reason I wasn’t too worried to ask about it. So, I blurted out, “Did you go see Lillian after me the other day?”

  “Huh?” He looked confused.

  “The other day…” Were my words slurring together? “Your name was on the sign out sheet after mine, but I left after you. It was right above Frances’. And you knew she was in the medical ward before me. Suspicious.”

  “Josie, look at me.” He put his hand under my chin to tilt it up. “I overheard a guard mentioning her name on my way to class that morning. When I knew for sure it was her, I messaged you. And yes, I went to see Lillian again. I had gone to the church of the Divinity after I left you to pray for her t
o wake up and I had a good feeling after. I just wanted to see if it worked.” My head drooped again, and he lifted it back up gently. “Seriously, Josie, you don’t look good.” I couldn’t think straight enough to even guess what was wrong with me.

  “I don’t feel so great. Can you walk me to the bathroom?” I asked, slowly. Maybe if I splashed some water on my face it would snap me out of this. I didn’t want the night to end, but if I didn’t start feeling better, I needed to leave. And probably head straight to the medical wing.

  Miles walked me to the exit and guided me down the hall, keeping his arm around me the whole time. My eyes felt heavy. “Did you eat anything today?” he asked as we walked.

  I tried to remember if I had lunch or not, but it seemed impossible to remember anything at all. “I don’t think I’ve been eating much since Lillian…” I trailed off as we approached the bathroom door.

  “I will be right outside this door, then we’re leaving. Call my name if you need help,” Miles said as he slowly released me. I nodded and walked into the bathroom. It was hard to walk on my own, and I was out of breath right away. My vision was blurry, and I felt so dizzy. I leaned on the wall for support and caught my breath before stumbling to the sink. I clamped my hands down on the edges. Hard. My head was spinning.

  “What is wrong with me?” I asked myself out loud in the mirror. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. My chest tightened. The punch. Frances came to talk to me while I was drinking the punch. “Apologize,” I scoffed to myself. I had sat my drink on the table while she was “apologizing.” What if she put something in it?