Page 3 of Charmed, I’m Sure (Witches of Bellevue #1)

I angled my head to the side in question, taking her in bit by bit.

Magnolia Bellevue. She hadn’t changed much since her freshman year of high school.

Still rocking the grunge-goth look, except now, her hair was anything but natural, and she seemed to be covered in tattoos.

Pink and blue strands were piled into a messy bun on top of her head, looking like pulled-apart cotton candy.

Intricate lines of ink cascaded down her arms and along one of her thighs.

I’d seen her around town for years leading up to high school. She was cute in her own way, confident—you had to be when people threw words like “witch” at your family—and I’d always admired that. I even hoped she’d remember me, but now, I wasn’t so sure I should’ve wished for that.

High school had been rough for me until senior year when puberty slapped me upside the head with a two-by-four.

I went from dorky kid to hot jock and felt like I was trapped in that movie, Can’t Buy Me Love—only I didn’t pay the popular girl to date me; I just happened to pack on some muscle and get contacts the summer before senior year.

The problem was, I was still me. Still the nerd who loved comic books and Star Wars.

Still excelled in academics. My looks were the only thing that changed, but with that, so did the crowd that wanted to be around me.

Unfortunately, that crowd also took a liking to picking on Magnolia. And though I never directly did anything to her, like an idiot, I did nothing to stop it either. I’d been in her shoes, and having just stepped out of them, I did everything I could not to climb back in.

The sound of snapping pulled me out of my thoughts, and it was then I noticed she had crossed the room, and it was her making the noise.

“Helloooo, anyone in there?” she asked, her head cocked and brows raised.

“Sorry,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. God, I’m an idiot.

“Did you forget your name in the last—” she glanced at her wrist, where she most certainly did not have a watch, “what, forty-five minutes?”

My brows shot up before a smirk tugged at my lips. “Why is that so hard to believe? You certainly seemed to.”

A look of clear indignation crossed her face, her cheeks turning pink as her eyes widened and lips pursed. Inhaling through her nose, she plastered that fake smile back on. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes, I’d like to place an order. I hear you do dessert boards?”

Magnolia nodded, rolling her eyes as she made her way behind the counter, grabbing what looked like an order form from a rack against the wall. Did I need a charcuterie board, let alone a dessert one? Absolutely not. But I was enjoying ruffling her feathers.

Grabbing a pen from the cup on the counter, she clicked it open, and the sound echoed through the room. Her overly sweet smile returned as she turned to me. “Name?”

“Taylor Hallows, but you knew that.”

“Did I?” Her brows furrowed slightly, but there was also a small smirk on her lips she was trying to hide. “What size were you looking for? Personal or party? And if it’s a party, how large is the gathering?”

“Uhhh… personal?” I meant it as a statement, but it definitely came out as a question. Who knew there were so many options for putting food on a board?

Magnolia continued to run through the form, asking about preferences, allergies, when I needed it, etc. When she finished, she finally looked up to meet my gaze. “Anything else I can do for you?”

Before I could answer, someone walked into the main space, her hands full of trays of pastries. “Need any help out here, Mags?” she asked, her eyes flicking between Mags and me.

“No, we’re just about done here,” Magnolia said, before turning back to me. “If there’s nothing else—”

“There is.” Her eyes narrowed infinitesimally at my interruption. “Go out with me.”

Something like a laugh mixed with a scoff escaped before she could stop it, and her hand flew to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry… what?”

“Go out with me.”

“You’re joking, right? Weren’t you just with Sophie?”

“I ran into her while walking through town,” I said with a shrug.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Hence me asking you out. To get to know you.”

“Well, first off, you didn’t ask. It was more of a demand. Secondly, Mr. Hallows—”

“Taylor.”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Taylor, no.”

“No?”

“That’s what I said. You do know what ‘no’ means, right?

And that it’s a complete sentence?” Her tone was cocky, like it was the highlight of her day to turn me down.

And maybe it was, but I smiled anyway. She was no longer the meek, quiet girl who walked the halls of Bellevue High.

No. Magnolia Bellevue had grown claws since the last time I saw her, and she kept them sharp.

Pushing up from where I’d leaned against the counter, I turned toward her companion, who was desperately trying to focus on her task despite overhearing everything. Her eyes were wide as she carefully placed confections in the glass case next to the counter. “Those look good.”

The woman flicked her eyes up to mine, offering a terse smile as she nodded.

“They are, but unfortunately, we aren’t open yet, so you’ll have to come back once we are.

” Magnolia’s voice drew my attention back to where she stood at the register, tapping away at the screen.

“Your total is $50 plus tax, which brings it to $54.50. We take a fifty percent deposit upfront, and you pay the rest when you pick it up.”

When she looked up at me, her expression dared me to argue with her prices. Fifty dollars for a board of deconstructed cake and fruit? Ridiculous. Did I pull out my debit card anyway? Yes. Yes, I did.

After she handed me my receipt, I headed toward the door.

No need to stay and embarrass myself any further.

I cast a glance back toward the counter as I pulled the door open, but Magnolia was already back in the kitchen, dancing along to Dear Maria, Count Me In by All Time Low, the volume rising as the door closed behind me.