At this, West snorts. “From us. You needed time from us, but you run to be friends with Griffin and Tucker?”
I press my lips together. “You don’t understand—”
He doesn’t let me finish. “Damn right I don’t understand. Did you forget that during the binding spell I was linked to Griffin? I know what kind of person he is, Krissa. He’s a dick. He only cares about himself. Barely cares about his own brother. But you decided he was the person you needed after everything that happened? What made you think he could care about you more than we could?” He snorts. “And don’t get me started on Tucker Ingram.”
I rankle at his words. Although it’s true that just months ago I would have agreed with his assessment, I don’t like the way he’s talking about them. Griffin and Tucker, the two who accepted me into their circle without hesitation or expectations. I know what kind of people they are, but they were there when I needed them. Is West really going to hold that against them? “If you’ll just let me explain…”
The three of them watch me with eyebrows raised. When I don’t continue, Bria cocks her head to the side. “Please, go ahead. I’d love to hear this.”
What can I tell them? What can I say to make them understand, to erase the hurt from their eyes? If I had been a complete recluse and closed everyone out, would they be reacting like this? Is it the fact that I chose people who are not them that’s making them angry right now? I don’t know if I can give them a satisfactory answer, so I dodge the question. “Can we just start over? Just forget the last four months happened?”
At this suggestion, Felix surprises me by smiling. “Just forget it?” he asks, his tone light. “Yeah, that seems easy. Just forget how you ignored us for the last four months. Just forget how any time we reached out, you shut us down. Forget that while we wanted to be your friends, you chose Tucker and Griffin over us again and again. Sounds simple.” He shrugs, and while his tone remains light, his eyes are cold as ice. “Then again, of course you’d think it’s easy. After all, it was easy for you to forget us, to completely disregard what we all meant to each other.”
I’m struck by the pain in his voice. How can he think this is been easy for me? I haven’t been keeping my distance because I wanted to; I’ve been doing it to keep them safe. I wish I could just push that knowledge into his mind, but I know I can’t. Especially not now—I don’t want to open myself up to feel what he’s feeling. It might break me.
I stand on shaky legs. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.” Without waiting for response, I start away. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going to go, but anywhere has to be better than staying here.
The usual deafening roar of the cafeteria ebbs in my ears, replaced by a rushing sound. I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms. I’ve experienced this sensation before. Back before I knew what I was, sometimes my abilities would boil up inside me until I could no longer contain them. When they erupted, invariably something would break. That hasn’t happened since just after I moved here, since Jodi told me the truth about what I am. And I don’t want anything to happen now. If I can just get away, clear my head, things will be okay. I’m halfway through the cafeteria when a hand lands on my arm. I jerk back instinctively, prepared to run away, to find somewhere to hide, but the owner of the arm jumps in front of me before I can. Bria’s face is tight, worried. Her lower lip trembles for a second before her mouth opens. “You forgot your lunch.” She holds out the brown paper bag, but she doesn’t extend her arm fully. She keeps it close to her body, as if unsure what my reaction will be.
I reach forward tentatively. When I take it from her, I’m careful not to touch her fingers, although whether it’s for her benefit or mine, I’m not sure. “Thanks.” I won’t eat it. There’s no way I could keep food down at this point, and she has to know that.
Once relieved of the bag, she doesn’t immediately leave. She rocks on the balls of her feet, tugging at the hem of her short skirt as if she can command the fabric to stretch and cover her ample thighs more fully. “Give him time.” Her voice is so low I’m almost convinced I imagined it. “I’m sorry about how Felix reacted, but it was stupid just sitting down like that. I get that you needed time, and I don’t hold your choice in friends against you, but Felix… I’ll talk to him. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to him.”
Without waiting for a response, she pivots and scurries back to the table.
It takes several seconds before I can convince my body to take another step. It’s slow going at first, but eventually I’m moving at a normal pace. I drop my lunch into a garbage bin on the way out.
She’s right. It was stupid of me to think I could just slide back into their lives. But is she right about the other part? Will Felix ever accept me again? The fact that she came after me suggests she’d be willing to let me back into her life, and West may be of similar mind, but I’m not convinced Felix will ever forgive me. He and I were too close when everything went down.
And if he can’t forgive me, is there any hope that Owen and I can ever reconnect? Maybe what I feared has already come to pass—I’ve waited too long. Some wounds don’t heal, and it’s possible I’ve already inflicted them.
***
When I first came to Clearwater, Owen offered to bring me to Jodi’s shop after school. After I messed with the timeline, it was Felix who took on that job. But things have changed again. For Christmas, my parents got me a car. It’s a decade old, but it’s in good condition. Sometimes I wonder if they did it less for the convenience and more in an attempt to make me happy. Or there’s the alternative—neither of them wanted to be bothered trying to make polite conversation with me in the car.
I pull into my usual space in the parking lot behind the shop. I was on complete autopilot the second half of the day. If it wasn’t for magic, I’m sure I would’ve failed the math test I asked Bria about. Even with it, I’ll be lucky to pass with even a D-.
I’m not sure if I’m glad to have the distraction of the shop today or not. If I didn’t have to work, I know for certain I wouldn’t be headed home. Instead, I’d probably be on my way to Griffin’s house now. But would that really be the best thing? After a failed attempt to reconnect with my old friends, is it wise to run straight to one of the people I left them for?
No, it’s best that I’m here today. The shop has been the one constant in my life. I pull open the back door and am greeted by the familiar aromas of the different herbs mingling in the air. I can still remember the first time I entered the store. Jodi had just told me that the shop would be mine one day, if I wanted it, and I was overwhelmed by the strange names of the herbs, stones, and homeopathic aids. I couldn’t have known then what a comfort this place would become.
I stop in the employees-only area to swipe my timecard and grab my name badge. Before I’m able to head out onto the floor, Jodi emerges from the row of high shelves, a box balanced in her hands. She offers a grin. “Perfect. I was hoping you’d get here so I wouldn’t have to restock the shelves.” A measure of her jovial demeanor evaporates when she glimpses my face. I watch an internal struggle play out across her features. I’ve seen it so many times in the last few months that I almost feel I can hear her thoughts. She’s unsure whether she should ask me what’s going on. So often her questions are met with a noncommittal noise and a shrug from me, it’s barely worth the effort to form the words, but still she feels duty-bound as my aunt to not give up.
I plan to do what I always do—give a vague answer and get to work. There’s no sense in troubling her. But even before she speaks, my resolve begins to crack.
Jodi approaches me slowly, the way a person would draw near a frightened animal. She hands over the box of homeopathic pellets gingerly. “You okay? How was your day?”
I open my mouth, ready to tell her everything’s fine, but somehow the syllables get mixed up on my tongue. “It was a disaster.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I did what you suggested—I tried to talk with Fel
ix and West and Bria. They didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Jodi gently tugs the box from my hands and sets it on the low coffee table in front of the worn couch I’ve spent so many breaks on. She lifts her arms like she intends to pull me into a hug but thinks better of it. Instead she allows her hands to land gently on my shoulders. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
The embarrassment and frustration that’s been bubbling just beneath the surface for the last few hours boils over and morphs into blazing anger. I take a step back, far enough away so she can’t touch me anymore. “You should be sorry. This is all your fault. You let me believe they still cared. Well, you’re wrong, they don’t. So I’ll thank you to stay out of my life from now on.”
Jodi shrinks back from my words, but her face hardens. “I get that you’re upset, but don’t turn this on me. You spent four months shutting those kids out. The least you can do is give them some time.”
Her words take the fight out of me. I release a shaky breath and move on unsteady legs toward the couch. I collapse onto it, joined moments later by Jodi. “It’s hopeless,” I murmur. “Maybe it’s for the best. It’s not like I deserve their friendship anyway.”
Jodi flinches as if I’ve just insulted her. She reaches toward me but doesn’t make contact. She leaves her hand on the cushion in the void that separates us. “I still don’t know why you feel that way, but I promise you if you want their friendship, you deserve it. Maybe you just have to prove it.”
I snort. “Yeah, easier said than done. How do I prove something like that?”
“Through action.” Hesitation flickers across her features. “I think Crystal needs help. She’s in here all the time. It’s obvious she hasn’t given up on the idea of getting her magic back, and I’m really afraid of what it’s doing to her. The longer she holds out hope, the harder it’s going to be to accept the inevitable.” She closes her eyes and releases a breath. “I would say something, but I don’t think it’s my place. Besides, I don’t think Crystal would listen to me anyway.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
The ghost of a smile flickers across Jodi’s face. “Maybe you could talk with her. You could try to help her come to terms with who she is now. Who knows? Maybe helping her will help you come to terms, too.”
The tinkle of bells announces the arrival of a new customer. Jodi reaches forward quickly to squeeze my hand before she stands to head out onto the floor. Instead of Jodi’s suggestion giving me hope, it only makes me feel worse. Of course I knew Crystal lost her abilities, but I had no idea she was still desperate to reclaim them. What kind of a friend am I that I didn’t know that?
The answer is obvious: A bad one. I’ve been a terrible friend to everyone who has meant anything to me. Maybe Jodi’s right. Maybe the way to prove myself is through actions. I’ll talk to Crystal. I’ll do whatever I can to help her adjust—even if I have no idea what to say.
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha
I pull into the parking lot of an Allegro Bread two towns over from Clearwater. I can’t help wondering, if this guy is really who he says he is, why he would choose such an overcrowded, common place as this for our meeting. But as it’s the only lead I have, I climb out the car and make my way inside.
I scan the place for him as I walk in, even though he said he’d find me. I’m not sure how he will, since he didn’t ask me for any distinguishing information about myself, but I suppose if he is able to find me it’ll go toward proving he really is Amaranthine. Bypassing the line, I search for an empty table, finally finding one tucked in the front corner. The two-person table is cozy, and I imagine a casual onlooker might suspect I’m meeting a date. But he’s not, not even close. I’m only interested in him so far as he can wreak havoc in Krissa’s life.
The restaurant is buzzing with activity, just as the one I met Elliot and Anya in had been. There are mothers with babies and toddlers, retired folks chatting loudly and laughing, businesspeople clearly on lunch break. Maybe the benefit of meeting at a place like this is the anonymity of a crowd. We won’t stick out here.
I can’t help scanning each new arrival as the doors open. The person I traded messages with seemed very interested in the information I was promising, but he may not be the one I’m meeting today. If I’ve really made contact with the Amaranthine, I could be meeting someone high up in the coven.
A harried-looking twenty-something mother walks in, bouncing an infant on her hip. Her glazed eyes sweep the room until they land on a familiar form. She waves her tired hand and is greeted by one in return. Clearly she’s not the one I’m waiting for. A man in his late thirties comes in next, dressed all in black and giving off a beatnik vibe. I straighten. It’s possible he’s the one. But when he joins the line of patrons waiting to order without so much as a glance around the room, it becomes clear he’s not.
My foot taps impatiently. Maybe I’m wrong. Surely if I had really made contact with members of the clan obsessed with the information Bess Taylor possessed, whoever they sent to learn what I know would be punctual—early, even. I check the time on my phone and resolve to leave if no one approaches within the next five minutes.
“Anyone sitting here?”
The voice makes me start. In the few seconds it took for me to check the time, a man in his mid-twenties appeared before me. He’s tall, with broad shoulders, dressed in expensive-looking jeans and a charcoal button-down shirt. His chocolate-brown eyes glitter. It takes a moment to find my voice. “Actually, I’m waiting for someone.”
Instead of moving away, the stranger pulls out the seat opposite me and sits, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers. “I know.”
My brain struggles to catch up. Is this him? Or does he think I’m someone else? I’ve heard of blind dates before. Could this guy think I’m someone he met on some dating site? What if the person I’m really waiting for is here now and doesn’t realize I am who he’s looking for because this guy is sitting with me? I said I’d be alone. What if I blow my chance at a meeting because this guy is trying to pick me up? “No, really. I have a very important meeting, so I’d appreciate it if you’d find somewhere else to sit.”
The man cocks his head, studying me. I do my best not to blink under the intensity of his dark gaze. “I told you I’d find you, didn’t I?”
His words press in on me. “Wait, you’re him?” I appraise him once more. Would a group like this really send someone so young, so inexperienced, to meet about the information I have? I assumed I’d be meeting someone with more seniority. Maybe I was wrong after all. Maybe this guy isn’t who I think he is.
He studies me in a way that makes me feel like he can read my thoughts. His gaze makes me uncomfortable, which is really saying something, considering I grew up with psychics who could do just that. He extends a hand across the table. “Brody Ford.”
I stare at his upturned palm, but I don’t place my hand in his. “Why do I have the feeling I’m not being taken very seriously?”
Brody’s brow knits. “Why is that?”
I gesture to him. “Why else would they send a rookie?”
Brody flashes a smile and ducks his head as if I’ve given him a compliment. “I’m older than I look.” He retracts his hand and casts a glance at the buzzing semi-chaos surrounding us. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? All these people, going about their small lives, never knowing how insignificant they are. Never knowing all that life could hold. But you know all about that, don’t you, Sasha?”
I shiver at his use of my name. We didn’t exchange them in our messages. I lean across the table. “You’re psychic?”
His half-smile gives away nothing. “You think I wouldn’t do some research before coming to this meeting? I had to know I wasn’t going to be wasting my time.” He leans back in his chair, relaxing an arm across the back and bringing his right ankle up to rest on his left knee. “Are you ready to prove to me I’m right? Prove I haven’t wasted my time?”
>
Although his posture suggests relaxation, there’s something in his demeanor that makes it clear he’s not one to be trifled with. And despite the fact that he still doesn’t look a day above twenty-five, he somehow gives off the aura of someone much older. I’m not sure how I didn’t notice before. “I come from the Devoted. I heard a story once about how you and your people were looking for information Bess Taylor had before she died.”
He nods. “I knew all this before I got here.” Although nothing about his casual posture has changed, the air around him seems to charge with irritation. “You said you have some information we’re looking for. I’d really like to know it.” There’s the barest hint of threat in his tone.
I swallow, hating that his gaze flicks down to my lips, my throat. I don’t know the last time I felt so exposed, so weak. Although nothing in his behavior is threatening, I can’t help feeling he could easily put me in danger. “I don’t actually have the information myself,” I say quickly.
Brody shifts, planting both feet on the ground as if ready to get up and leave. “I’m not in the habit of playing games.”
I stretch a hand toward him, pulling back before actually making contact with his skin. “Neither am I. I don’t have the information, but I know someone who does.”
Brody relaxes, but just slightly. It’s clear I have his attention for another few moments.
“I know you’ve been searching. I know you think Bess had information she wasn’t able to pass on before she died.”
He makes a circular motion with his hand, urging me to hurry up.
I draw back my shoulders and straighten my spine, trying to make it clear I’m not accustomed to being rushed. I fight the part of me urging to slow down just because he’s treating me like I’m playing games. “What if I told you there was a way to access Bess’s memories? To find out what it is she took to the grave?”
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