Life's a Witch

by Val St. Crowe

  “You?” I said. “Out late at the bar? You feeling all right?”

  She laughed again, that almost embarrassed laugh. Setting down her stuff on the back table, she pulled out a chair. “I met a new student last night when I was here talking to Norwood.”

  I sat down next to her. “Why were you talking to Norwood?”

  “I check in with him occasionally about the primal program,” she said.

  “All by yourself?” I furrowed my brow.

  She shrugged. “Easier that way.”

  I considered. Yeah, she was probably right. Norwood was an ass, and he hated all of us, but he hated Estelle the least. “So, this new student, you took her out to Barley and Bells? That was nice of you.”

  “Not her,” she said. “Him.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Oh,” I said in a different voice.

  She flushed. “Don’t. Petra, please.”

  I leaned closer. “Tell me everything. Who is this dark horse contender and what are his intentions toward you?”

  She buried her face in her hands, letting out something that was distinctly like a giggle. “Oh, gosh, stop it. He was very, very nice.” She set her hands in her lap and got a faraway look in her face. “And easy to talk to. And handsome.”

  “Handsome, huh?” I said. That wasn’t a word I used when describing men I found attractive. “What did he look like?”

  She shrugged, not making eye contact with me. “You know, he kind of had that hot nerd thing going on for him.”

  “Uh huh.” I nodded, but I had no idea what that was.

  “He seemed so mature for a guy our age, and he knows so much about magic. I was actually talking to him about what you were asking me about yesterday?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Well, I didn’t say who you were. I only said that I had a friend, and I explained about how you were technically dead. He was fascinated by that. He even said that he might know a way to reverse what happened to you.”

  Okay, now I was interested. “Who is this guy? Can I meet him? You got his number, right?”

  “Definitely,” she said. “We closed the bar and then we went walking around the streets for nearly two hours. I actually…” She blushed again, and lowered her voice. “I invited him back to my apartment, and I just met him. I don’t do that.”

  I grinned at her. Our Estelle was growing up.

  “But he was a gentleman and said he needed to prepare for class today, and so he went home.” She sighed. “Anyway, then we exchanged numbers.”

  “So, what’s his name?” I said.

  “Fox,” she said.

  “Huh,” I said. “That’s funny, because that’s the first name of our spellcraft professor. What are the odds that there are two people at this school with the first name ‘Fox’?”

  “How do you know the first name of our professor?” she said, and she was suddenly sorting through her stack of books, a strange look on her face.

  “Oh, he and Logan are like besties or whatever. I met him the other day. He’s actually pretty young. I’d say he couldn’t be older than his late twenties—What?”

  She had pulled her schedule out of her notebook, and her face had turned white. “Willoughby. I knew that last name sounded familiar, but I hadn’t thought that…” She swallowed hard.

  “What?” I said again.

  At that moment, the door the classroom closed and Willoughby walked in. “Good morning, class,” he said in a bright voice. “I hope you’re all feeling—” His voice choked off.

  He and Estelle were staring at each other, both looking ill.

  Oh, crap. There weren’t two Foxes after all.

  Willoughby squared his shoulders and pulled himself together. “Hope you’re all feeling well today, ready to craft some spells.” He started for the front of the classroom, but stopped next to Estelle. He lowered his voice. “Could I see you after class?”

  Estelle just nodded, looking stricken.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Estelle

  “You said the students went to Barley and Bells, but that you didn’t,” Fox was saying in a tight, low voice. It was after class, and he was standing behind a podium, and Estelle was in front of it. She was glad of the barrier.

  “Well, that’s true,” said Estelle.

  “Yes, but it made me think you were faculty,” he said. “You didn’t say ‘we students.’”

  “Who talks like that?” She glared at him.

  He rubbed his hands over his face.

  They were both quiet.

  Estelle lifted her chin. “You know, you didn’t exactly go out of your way to say that you were a professor either. I thought you were a student like me.”

  “Well, I’m not,” he said. “And this is all embarrassing and unfortunate, but I suppose it could be worse. Nothing happened. It was just friendly conversation and a bit of innocent flirting, so… Nothing like that will happen again. And you… you didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  “Just Petra?”

  He made a face. “Great.”

  “Petra’s not a blabbermouth or anything. Besides, she said that you were friends with Logan, so…”

  “No, exactly,” he said. “I’ve been officially at work for less than a week, and I’ve already had a student teleport all my belongings into my apartment and then made passes at another. This job is going very, very well.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He sighed. “No, I’m sorry. This is my responsibility. I’m the person in authority. And I promise you that nothing inappropriate like this will ever happen again.”

  “All right,” she said. “We’ll pretend we never even saw each other.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Of course,” she said. She gazed at him, and the air seemed electric again. Damn it, couldn’t that go away now? It was bad enough that she’d never liked any other guy the way she liked him, did it have to be so hard to be near him too? She twisted her hands together. “Well, I guess I’ll…” She gestured toward the door.

  “Okay,” he said.

  She didn’t move.

  He let out a ragged breath and then came around the podium. “Listen, Estelle,” he said in a soft voice.

  “Yes?” she said.

  “The friend you were talking about that needed to turn back human? Is that Petra?”

  Estelle nodded. “Yes, it is.” That was odd. She hadn’t thought he would bring that up. “Actually, I told her about that too, and she was fairly interested. If you did have any information—”

  “No, I couldn’t,” he said. “Not if it’s Petra. It’s dangerous. If I got her hurt, I imagine Logan would be devastated.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Right.”

  “Right,” he said.

  They stared at each other for a few more moments.

  He broke the gaze. He looked down at his feet. “I had a really nice time last night. It’s a shame that things are the way they are.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It is.”

  More silence. She looked back at the door. Why couldn’t she make her legs move?

  “I actually need to leave the classroom as well,” he said. “But perhaps we shouldn’t walk out together.”

  “No,” she said. “I guess not. You go first.” She didn’t seem to be able to move.

  “All right,” he said. He looked up again and their eyes met again.

  Shivers went through her body. She bit down on her lip.

  He wrenched his gaze away and gathered up his things.

  She watched him leave.

  This was possibly the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

  *

  I looked for Estelle in the dining hall after class, but she never showed up. I had another class that afternoon, so I went to that. Later, back in my dorm, I called her.

  But she seemed to have things back under control for the most part. She said that she was lucky that nothing had happened between them, not even kissing, and so it was
all over and there was nothing to worry about. She sounded very Estelle about it all, so I didn’t know why I would have worried.

  If something like that had happened to me, I would have been falling apart, especially because of the cliche-ness of it all, what with them literally running into each other and then finding out he was a professor. It was so Pretty Little Liars it made me sick.

  I wished that I could talk about it with Tatum, who was my best gossip pal, but she wasn’t around. I hadn’t seen her since she slammed the door in my face the night before. Admittedly, I’d only come home this morning to shower and change, which was fairly typical for me. I spent nearly every night with Logan these days. My dorm room was more like a glorified closet than anything else.

  Maybe Tatum was at Reid’s, though. Maybe they were patching things up.

  Except, no, because Reid showed up at my door around 4:00, looking for Tatum.

  I leaned against the doorway. “No, sorry, I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” he said. He looked worried. “What if something’s wrong?”

  I hadn’t really thought of that. I moved away from the door to let Reid inside.

  But once inside, he seemed restless. He began going through the whole suite, looking in her room, her closet, the bathroom, everywhere. She wasn’t there. I thought he might start pulling off the couch cushions, so I offered to call her phone.

  “I guess she’s not answering when you call?” I asked him.

  “No way,” he said. “And ignoring my texts too. It’s infuriating. I mean, we haven’t spoken since she walked out of my party, Petra. I don’t know what’s going on. Did we break up? Did that happen? If it did, she owes me a confrontation or something, right? At least a text? ‘Sorry, Reid, it’s over. You saved my life, and I’ll never forgive you.’” He threw himself down on my couch and leaned his head on the back of it. He shut his eyes.

  I tried calling Tatum.

  She didn’t pick up.

  I sent her a text. Hey, please let Reid and me know that you aren’t dead. We’re worried. I sat down next to Reid. “Well, I texted her.”

  He sat up straight. “Anything?”

  “Two seconds ago, Reid. Give her a chance to type.”

  He groaned.

  “Look, she’s being dramatic, but she’s got to get over this,” I said. “Of course, the last time I talked to her, she did say something about feeling violated. She apparently took all of this super seriously.”

  “Yeah, I know she did.”

  “So, why did you tell her?” I glared at him. “Just because you were drunk?”

  “No, it’s like I said to her. I felt guilty. She’s, like, the love of my life, and I’m keeping this huge secret from her.”

  “Right, okay, so a great time to tell her is at a toga party.”

  He dragged a hand over his face. “I thought if I acted like it was casual, she would think it was no big deal. I was obviously really wrong about that.”

  My phone beeped.

  “Tatum?” said Reid.

  I nodded. She had texted back, If I’m dead, I’ll let you guys know. I showed it to Reid.

  “What the hell?” he said. “If she was dead, she wouldn’t be able to let us know.”

  “I think we have to give her space,” I said.

  “Oh, to hell with that.” He vaulted up off the couch. “I need to find her and force her to talk to me.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  He looked down at me. “What? Bad idea?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the reason we’re in this situation in the first place is because we forced her to drink the blood when she couldn’t choose. I don’t know if forcing anything is the way to go.”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay. I guess that makes sense.”

  I got up off the couch and put a hand on his shoulder. “She’s got to come around eventually. She’ll see that we did this with good intentions.”

  “I wish there were creatures attacking or something.”

  “What?” I stared at him like he was crazy. “Are you insane? That was awful, last fall.”

  “Yeah, but we were, like, forced to be together and work together,” he said. “If I want Tatum back, I need that proximity.”

  “You haven’t lost her,” I said. “Like you said, she hasn’t broken up with you.”

  He shook his head. “I hope I haven’t. I don’t even know who to be if I’m not with her.”

  “Oh, come on, you haven’t changed that much since you started dating Tatum.”

  He pointed at his chest. “I did not date before Tatum. I was into having sex, not into making love, you know? If there’s no Tatum, do I go back to that?” He made a face. “I don’t even think I want that.”

  “There’s Tatum,” I said. “Give her some space is all. I’m sure it’s all going to work out.”

  I hoped it would, anyway. I missed my best friend.

  *

  Estelle

  Estelle was thinking that she should get a car. It wasn’t as if her family couldn’t afford to get them a car. In fact, they used to have a car. She and Reid had shared a BMW SUV. But it had been shot to hell by the Brotherhood—an organization that hated magical creatures—last fall, and it had never been replaced. She was pretty sure her family had registered it stolen and gotten the insurance money for it. They’d even asked, last spring, if she and Reid wanted another car, and they’d opted for the apartment instead, especially since they could teleport now and cars seemed incidental.

  But there was no reason that they couldn’t have a car and an apartment.

  Admittedly, the only reason Estelle wanted a car at that precise moment was because it was raining. She was walking home from her last afternoon class and the sky had opened up. She didn’t even have an umbrella.

  She would have teleported, but she’d been doing some intense primal magic during her last class in order to facilitate some work for the other students in the class, who weren’t primals, and she was tapped out. She couldn’t teleport. She couldn’t do any primal magic at all. She’d have to wait until she recharged.

  This was why they needed a car.

  So, she had ducked under the overhang of a restaurant on the street, but she couldn’t stay there forever.

  Already, the hostess inside was giving her annoyed looks.

  Maybe Estelle should go into the restaurant and order a coffee or a piece of pie or something. Hell, she could stand to drown her sorrows in dessert right now.

  Maybe sorrows was stating it a little strongly, but she really did have a sense of loss. When Petra had called earlier, Estelle had played it off like nothing, because it had to be nothing. She thought that if she convinced herself that it was nothing, then maybe it would stop hurting so much.

  It was only that she’d had so much hope for a future with Fox. She hadn’t been looking for a relationship, and then this guy had shown up, and he was gorgeous and smart and charming and everything she hadn’t even realized she wanted in her life, and when she looked at him, it felt like the air crackled.

  And then, just as quickly as she’d found him, he’d been ripped away from her.

  So, yeah, maybe she should get a piece of pie. Maybe she should get an entire pie. Maybe—

  A car had pulled over to the sidewalk in front of her and the window was rolling down.

  Oh, what were the odds? It was Fox.

  “You look like you need a ride,” he said.

  She bit down on her lip. “Um, that’s very nice of you, but…”

  “Get in,” he said.

  That was a stupid idea. Being around him would only make it worse, especially being around him inside the cramped confines of a car interior. She’d be close enough to smell him, and she remembered that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, and last night, she had wanted so badly just to touch him—

  No.

  She would not get in his car.

  But she was already moving out from
beneath the overhang, sprinting through the rain drops to the passenger door of his car. In seconds, she had pulled it open, slid inside, and shut the door.

  The rain pounded on the roof of the car.

  He smiled at her. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she said.

  There were no more words for several moments. They looked at each other, and she could smell him, and his scent was mingled with the scents of the late summer rain, and she felt loose and confused and aching. She sucked in a shuddering breath.

  “Where you headed?”

  “Just back to my apartment,” she said. “But, um, it’s the opposite direction. You’ll have to turn around.”

  “Okay,” he said and pulled the car out onto the road.

  His radio was playing in the background, the classic rock station. Man, if that Police song started playing…

  She groaned.

  “What?” he said.

  “I was just thinking of that song about the teacher and the student. You know, ‘Wet bus stop… His car is warm and dry.’ We’re living in some kind of bad teen soap, I think.”

  He chuckled. “Well, what kind of jerk would I be if I let you stand there in the rain like that?”

  “No, I… I should be thanking you. Thank you.” She ran a hand through her slightly damp hair. “I’m grateful, really. I didn’t want to walk home in the rain.”

  He pointed. “Can I turn around in the school parking lot?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  He turned on his blinker. “You’re welcome.”

  “Huh?” She was thrown. “Oh, right. Because I said… Yeah.” Damn, she was flustered.

  He pulled the car into the parking lot, but he didn’t turn it around. Instead, he drove all the way down to the edge and pulled the car in behind a big oak tree which split the asphalt here. The breach to the other world, where the scribbly things lived, was just over there. Malachi had opened it last fall, and it had never closed since.

  He stopped the car.

  She licked her lips. “Um… what are you doing?”

  He let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. I, um, I…” He put the car in park and turned to look at her. “You know, it occurs to me that the fact that there’s so many stories about this kind of thing happening must mean that it’s, uh, you know, somewhat common.”