Page 4 of Charmed, I'm Sure

“Aren’t you, like, supposed to be with a pack or something? Are you even allowed to be here?”

“Yeah, I’m allowed to be here. I felt this urge to come here. Not really sure where ‘here’ is, but Elora said that you would answer all my questions and show me around.”

Of course she did.

“I don’t know about that. I’m really not the person you want showing you around. Plus, I have some hexes to beworking on. Not giving the dog a walk around town.”

He takes a step towards me, reaching as if he is going to grab my arm before he thinks better of it, letting his hand fall to his side.

“Come on. Surely you can take a break from hexing and take me around town. I’m really excited to see what this town has to offer. It can’t be any crazier than Jasper, where I’m from.”

My face scrunches as I scowl at him. He can’t seriously want to spend time with me. There is nothing about me that is inviting or encourages the average person to even speak to me, let alone decide to stick around.

“I don’t think so. Here’s your first tip for living in Pumpkinridge. Be sure to sage your house and shut your chimney shoot. The crows here are gossiping hens and will do anything to find their next juicy piece. Including coming in through your chimney.”

His eyes scan my face as if he is testing the truth in my words before he looks around behind me. Likely looking for the crows that I’m mentioning.

I roll the basket handle down my forearm before holding it out towards him.

“Here.” I thrust it towards his clearly toned stomach as his butt thrusts back, avoiding colliding with the basket. “This town is all about welcoming new guests but I am not. There's a bunch of things in there. Some I would throw away. Some I would keep. And some that won’t leave that basket. My sister left you a business card in there. I don’t recommend using it unless you really don’t like yourself.”

With that I whisper, “fogarius swirlarious,” under my breath before turning and hurrying down the three front steps of his porch. The fog swirls up from the ground, giving the exact effect I was hoping for except…cough…cough…Oh my goddess.

Thefog smells like rotten eggs boiling in the sun. I said the spell clear as day. I’ve never once messed up a simple spell like that before. Nearly gagging, I’m swatting at the fog as a body slams into me, sending us down the path.

I feel a deep rumble against my back as Miles laughs. “Is this a normal day in Pumpkinridge? If so, I can say that it will always be entertaining for sure. What was that back there?”

We come to a stop on the sidewalk, my feet dangling above the ground as he holds me like a rag doll clutched in the arms of a screaming toddler. He acts as if I weigh merely five pounds. My jaw clenches, neck muscles taut as heat crawls up my face. Suspended in the air, I ball my fists, nails biting into my palms while I glare at the fog that failed me.

He’s still laughing as we continue to stand there, waiting for it to dissipate, when I hear the damn crows gossiping about me.

“Seems the Grimsbane witch had a minor issue with the execution.”

Cawk. Cawk.

“Isn’t she supposed to be the dark twin?”

Cawk. Cawk.

My head whips over to the power line dangling overhead, where three crows are all but laughing at me. Giving them a bird of my own, they squawk before flying off to the next power line a few doors down. Fucking birds.

“Can you put me down now?” I grumble as he continues to laugh.

“You weren’t lying about them being gossiping birds. So Grimsbane, huh? Is that your last name?”

Wiggling from side to side, I kick my feet. Hitting his shins, he swears before his stupid, well-defined arm lets me go. As soon as my boots hit the concrete, I brush off my skirt and walk down the sidewalk. Not even bothering to see if he followed me.

“Wait,” he shouts.

Before I even make it to the other side of the neighboring log cabin, he has already eaten up the space between us.Great.

“You can’t leave just yet,” he says as he gently pulls me to a stop.

I twist around to face him. His eyes are pleading with me to give him attention. Like a puppy dog wagging his tail slowly, waiting for the moment I’ll reach my hand out to pet him. He's looking at me as though I am the one he's always wanted.

My magic sparks at the tips of my fingers. Almost reaching out for him. That can’t be right. My magic never reaches for anyone. I snap my fingers to cover it up, hoping he doesn’t see it.

Pop.