Page 18

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Almost as soon as we walk through the door of O-Chi, it becomes apparent to me that Liv is up to something.

She smiles and sparkles as she works the small Saturday night crowd, laughing and talking like she’s having the time of her life.

But to Braden she gives nothing more than a bored wave.

He pinches or tickles her whenever she passes by, only to have her distractedly brush him away.

As the night wears on and they both get drunker and drunker, he ups his game, trying even harder to get her to notice him.

I have to hand it to her, the tactic works.

By the time she’s too blitzed to fight him off, he’s practically on his knees, begging for her attention.

So, of course, she sleeps with him again.

The only problem is, it’s now the middle of the week and—surprise, surprise—she hasn’t heard from him. This is Braden’s modus operandi. When a beautiful girl is right in front of him, he wants her. When she’s not, he forgets she exists. Liv is coming to terms with it, but it’s taking some time.

“I mean, I know he’s not boyfriend material,” she admits. “But still…”

But still…she was hoping that with her, he would be. Evidently so was Peyton. I think Braden McCormick should come with a warning sign: This man wants hot sex only. Those seeking a relationship need not apply.

Liv sighs. “I guess not everyone can be as lucky as you.” She thinks it’s romantic that Zander wanted to beat the crap out of Leo.

When I tell her I found it scary, she dismisses me.

“You had two guys fighting over you. That’s, like, every girl’s dream.

” Sure, until it actually happens and you realize one or both men could get seriously hurt. Or arrested.

Luckily, Zander hasn’t noticed my amethyst, but then he rarely pays attention to what I wear. He thought my navy blue cocktail dress for last year’s spring formal was black, and told me I should’ve worn flip-flops when I complained about how my heels were hurting my feet.

Liv, on the other hand, does notice the pendant. “Hey! Where’d that necklace come from? I love it.”

I prevaricate, “Oh, I just picked it up somewhere. You know, because I wear a lot of purple.”

The fact that Liv likes it is a testament to Leo’s taste. He could’ve gotten me a necklace that was clunky, but he went for feminine and delicate. No one I know would ever guess it’s an amulet.

As I lie on my bed and work, I run the pendant along its chain, soothed by the reassuring tug on the back of my neck.

I’ve been reading in the quiet for over an hour, so completely absorbed in Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, that when my phone buzzes and vibrates against my arm, my heart leaps into my throat.

It’s a text from Leo.

Pulse racing, I snatch up the phone and read the message.

Leo: How are you?

How are you? What kind of question is that? Does he mean how am I after not hearing from him for ten days, or how am I after my boyfriend threatened to rearrange his face? I type an answer as obtuse as his question.

Me: Fine. U ?

Leo: Fine. Sorry I went offline for a while. I had to go out of town for a few days.

Me: That’s ok. It was a busy weekend.

Leo: Did your parents come down?

Me: Yes. And the less that’s said about it, the better.

Leo: Sorry. I know how that can be.

Hmm. Everyone has some baggage with their parents, but what could his possibly be? He seems like the ideal son to me: studious, self-controlled, mature.

Leo: By the way, your boyfriend didn’t scare me off. But for your sake, I’ll go away if you need me to.

My heart does a funny little flip.

Me: No. It’s okay.

Leo: So we can still be friends?

Me: Yes, please.

Leo: Good. Would you like to go on a hike with me this weekend?

Me: Sure.

I love hiking. It’s one of the benefits of going to college in the mountains, and yet I can never find anyone to go with me. My friends are always too hungover or lazy to spend a Saturday walking in the fresh air. The mere suggestion makes them groan.

I agree to meet Leo outside Newberry on Saturday morning. We’ll be out together in public, which is both good and bad. Anyone can see us, for sure, but it’ll also be obvious we have nothing to hide. I fidget and chew my lip, guilty, nervous, and excited all at once. And it’s only Wednesday.

My phone jiggles again.

Leo: Did Avery ever find you?

Me: We’re meeting up tomorrow.

Leo: Okay, good. See you Saturday.

Instead of getting back to my book, I obsess over Leo’s messages.

Why does he have to be so mysterious all the time?

Whenever I talk to him, it’s like he’s carefully feeding me only the smallest pieces of information.

Avery isn’t much better. I’m starting to think there’s something larger going on with Leo, Avery, and Aaron.

Something I haven’t been let in on.

The next afternoon I meet Avery at the Bobcat where she buys me a latte and gives me a small box of crystals.

I pop off the lid and stir the stones around with my finger, enchanted by the array of shapes and colors.

I’m a little less impressed with the small ziplock bags full of herbs she tosses at me.

According to the masking tape labels, the contents are harmless—just mugwort, sage, yarrow, and rosemary—but because some of them could be mistaken for marijuana, I tuck the bags deep in my backpack.

The tied bundle of dried lavender, however, I keep by my elbow so I can breathe in its gentle scent.

“This’ll tell you what all this stuff does.” Avery slaps a paperback on the wobbly table. “There’s a correspondence chart in the back.”

I read the book’s title, Protection Magick: Shielding, Warding, and Banishing for the Beginner Witch . “Um,” I say. “Can I do this stuff if I’m not, you know, a witch?”

“Sure. And who knows, maybe you are a witch.”

Me? Aren’t I too…fragile?

I ask her, “Are you ?”

She shrugs and smiles, her teeth bright and straight between her red-painted lips. “I practice witchcraft.”

“So doesn’t that make you a witch?”

“You know, for years I didn’t want to call myself a witch because I didn’t think I’d learned enough to be considered one.

” She tilts her head thoughtfully. “But now I know you could live three lifetimes and never learn all there is to know about the craft. So yeah, I guess you could say I’m a witch. ”

I knew a few girls in high school who’d seen The Craft and decided they were witches, but no one took them seriously.

Nor was anyone successfully hexed for ridiculing them.

But Avery is different. She has an aura of power and confidence.

If there is such a thing as a real witch, then Avery would be one.

On impulse, my hand goes to my amethyst. “Can you help me charge this?”

“You haven’t yet?”

“No.” Actually, yes. The other day I made an attempt, but I was so caught up in trying to remember Leo’s directions, there was no way it could’ve worked. “Leo told me how to do it, but nothing he said made any sense.” Thanks to Cole’s cocktail.

“Lemme see it again.”

I lean in so Avery can lift the pendant off my chest. “Did you pick it out?” I ask, because I’ve been wondering for over a week if it was actually she who gifted it to me, and Leo was merely the delivery guy.

“Me? No. That’s all him. He just asked me if an amethyst was a good choice.” She turns it this way and that. “He really pulled out all the stops, didn’t he? I love the silver work.”

“Me too.” Why am I blushing?

Avery backs up with a smile. “So why don’t you come over on Sunday? We’ll have wine and M&M’s, and I’ll walk you through a charging ritual.”

“Okay.” I say before I can second-guess myself. “I’ll bring the M&M’s.”

“Peanut butter and regular.”

“Will do.”