Neither of us meets the other’s gaze.
As the bus pulls out, Gemma folds a sweater and sets it against the window, creating a makeshift pillow for me. She encourages me to rest, to use the next five hours to forget reality and catch up on the sleep I missed last night.
I give her my phone, and she calls my parents for me. Asks them to pick me up so I don’t have to ride home with Veronica like we’d originally planned. Ms. Wunderlin must tell my art teacher about what happened, because Ms. Parker lets Gemma and me stay on the bus until Veronica climbs in her car and drives away.
When I finally emerge, my parents are waiting for me on the sidewalk.
Dad offers a sad smile when he sees me. “I’m sorry, kiddo.” He opens his arms, and my parents swallow me in their protective embrace.
Chapter Fifteen
I keep the secrets Veronica wants me to keep.
But I also stay far, far away from her.
Monday morning, I ignore my alarm for school. When Mom comes in to get me up, I beg her to let me stay home.
“You can’t hide here forever, sweetie.” Mom perches at the edge of my bed and brushes the hair out of my face.
“I know,” I say as tears spill over my lashes. “I don’t need forever. Just today. Please, Mom?”
She looks out my bedroom door, where Dad is standing in the hall with two to-go cups of coffee—one for him and one for Mom. I can’t stand the stuff.
He enters and hands one mug to Mom. “Let her stay home, Marie. She deserves the day.”
Mom sighs and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. But I expect you to be out of bed before dinner. Deal?”
“Deal.”
My parents leave for work, and I stay hidden under my covers until lunch. Once I get moving, though, I can’t stop. I find one of Mom’s old recipe books and bake my way through the afternoon. Chocolate chip cookies. Brownies. I even attempt to make biscuits from scratch, but they don’t come out right.
The entire time I’m baking, my phone keeps going off.
VM: It was one bad weekend, Han. That’s it.
VM: We’ve always been so good together. Don’t throw us away.
VM: I miss you so much. It hasn’t even been a full day.
VM: Please, Hannah.
VM: I love you.
I stop checking after that. It hurts my heart too much to see her words. To know that part of her must mean them, but that her loving me isn’t enough to make us work.
On Tuesday, Veronica is the one who doesn’t go to school, and I’m spared from having to see her in the halls. That night, I try to convince my parents to let me skip the coven lesson with Lady Ariana. Instead, Dad goes with me and promises to act as a buffer so I don’t have to deal with Veronica alone.
Seeing her hurts so much I can hardly focus on what Lady Ariana is teaching us. My magic is unwieldy, prone to sudden bursts of strength and long stretches of frustrating weakness. But Dad is there, his presence steadying me. Eventually, it gets easier to ignore her.
Over time, my heart rebuilds itself, but now it’s wrapped in armor and barbed wire. I can look through Veronica when we pass in the halls at school. I count down the days until the end of finals. Benton always lifts my spirits during art class, giving me the added boost before I have to share a gym period with Veronica. Then after, Gem and I have chemistry, and she soothes my freshly frazzled nerves.
I even pick up more shifts at the Fly by Night Cauldron. Now that I’m not spending money on date nights, I have more cash for fresh art supplies. In every free minute between school and work and magic lessons, I press my heartbreak onto canvas.
By the time finals week arrives at Salem High, I’ve honed all the hurt into hate. I can’t stand the sight of her face. Her perfect armor of flawless makeup. Her bright laugh in the lunchroom while she eats with the other cheerleaders.
At least summer will be here soon, and I’ll only have to see her at Lady Ariana’s house. And then August will come, and she’ll go to college and we won’t have to speak again until she comes home for winter break.
Eventually, I start to believe what everyone—Gemma and Benton and even my parents—promised in the hours and days after the breakup. I’ll be okay. My life will go on. I’ll get over the girl who help me realize that I’m gay. I’ll get over the way she ripped out my heart without realizing how much she was hurting me.
I’ll get over it, but I’ll never forget.
About the Author
Isabel Sterling is an LGBTQ educator and advocate by day and a YA author by night. When she's not writing about magic and murder, Isabel can be found lost in a good book, marathoning her favorite shows, or relaxing by the lake. She lives in Central New York with her wife and their brood of furry children: cats Oliver and December, and a beagle-mix named Lily.
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