Page 24 of Starrily (Perks of Being #2)

Chapter 24

C allie had spent the day cooped up in her room at the inn, passing the time by studying new articles, although her thoughts kept drifting off to everywhere but the stars. So when she heard approaching steps on the porch outside, she wasted no time tossing the tablet on her bed and running to the door. She intercepted Raleigh’s knock, making his hand freeze in the air.

“And? What did they say?”

“I’ve been poked, prodded, and fed,” he said in a light voice. “I don’t mind your witchy ways.”

“The diagnosis. Can they help?”

“They need to figure it out. Give them a few days.”

Her stomach churned. Days more of waiting—and this was much worse than waiting to see if a research or a grant proposal would be accepted.

How was she ever going to do it?

“Hey.” Raleigh gently held her shoulders. “We’ve come this far.”

“I know. It just makes me nervous.” She wagged her finger at him. “And don’t call it my witchy ways. I’m not like them.”

“All right.” He rubbed her shoulders. “You’re not a witch. Although your cat is anything but ordinary.”

“Wait, where is Theia?” Callie leaned past the door frame, half-expecting to see Theia chasing some innocent passerby.

“She demanded to stay with your family for now.”

“Theia?”

He raised his pointer finger. “I had no choice in the matter. Your family told me she wishes to examine their ways. She’ll be back with you tomorrow.”

That sounded like her family, all right.

“Anyway,” Raleigh continued, “I saw a fair being set up on the main square. Stalls, tents, and I swear I could smell chicken wings …”

Callie frowned. It couldn’t be, but the time was right. After all these years, it was still going? “Venus Fest?”

Raleigh lifted an eyebrow. “You guys have an erotic festival?”

She punched his shoulder. “It’s a normal summer festival. Games, music, food, the like.”

“Perfect! I was wondering what we could do for the afternoon.”

“You want us to go?”

Raleigh’s expression turned somber, and he looked past her into the room. “If you have work or don’t want to go, you don’t have to. But I heard the words games and food in a sentence together, and therefore am legally required to make an appearance.”

“Actually …” She glanced at her tablet. It wasn’t the work—she was still on vacation. She’d been scared of going into town, of seeing old places and old acquaintances.

But she’d have to walk through the hurt at some point. She grabbed Raleigh’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Not only was Venus Fest still in existence, but it looked almost as Callie remembered. There was the old merry-go-round for the little kids, balloon popping and a high striker and other games, stalls with colorful banners announcing food and drinks, and the small stage where a new local garage band would perform each year. Kids were running about, their parents were doing very little parenting, and workers were still setting up the equipment on the stage. It was all frighteningly familiar, but it didn’t fall into place until the smell of popcorn and cotton candy wafted past Callie’s nose. The combination sent her back into the days when she and Mila were those kids, and theirs would be the parents who did very little parenting, and by the end of the festival, their tummies would hurt from all the cotton candy they’d eaten.

But even stranger than a simple scent evoking such strong memories was that thinking of it caused Callie no pain. It was bittersweet and nostalgic, but it was just a memory.

“Has it changed much?” Raleigh asked.

“Not at all. It’s the same as when Mila and I visited as kids.”

“There is something to be said about letting children attend an erotic festival—”

“It’s clearly not that!”

“Okay.” He grinned. “But they need to rethink their marketing.”

“Maybe. A little bit.” Venus had nothing to do with the festival.

“So, what do we do? What did you use to do?”

She glanced around, and the long-forgotten child’s joy inside of her bubbled to the surface. “Cotton candy,” she said, unable to fight off a smile. “And then the high striker.”

Raleigh got them the cotton candy and held the stick with the sweet, fluffy pink cloud between them, so they could tear off pieces as they walked toward the high striker. The machine might have been the same from Callie’s childhood; at least, it looked old and worn down enough. A man Callie’s age was tending to the game, shouting out the classic “Step right up!” and “Test your muscles!” to the festivalgoers. He shouted the same at them as they approached, then did a double take and stared at her. “Callie?”

Callie took a better look at him. His hair wasn’t dyed a shocking shade of green anymore, but still—“Levi?”

“The one and the same.” He smiled and dragged her into a hug, finishing with a clap on her back. “Look at you! I’d say you’ve grown, but—” He lifted his hand up and down, hovering around her height.

“Idiot,” Callie said, barely containing her laugh. “You still live here?”

“Nah, moved to New Orleans. But I’m back for the summer, and of course, my folks roped me into helping with the festival. And you? Where’d you go off to?”

A lump of panic lifted into Callie’s throat, but she breathed and let it dissolve. Levi was asking the standard reunion questions. There were no accusations in his tone, no pity, and none of that annoying, snooping curiosity she’d expected. “San Francisco. I work as an astrophysicist.”

Levi whistled approvingly. “Look at you! Well, you always were a smart-ass.”

“She still is,” Raleigh said and offered Levi a hand. “Raleigh. I’m Callie’s friend.”

Callie felt a smidge of annoyance at that word—friend. Not that Raleigh wasn’t … but she hoped he’d be more. He’d already been more. And then she saw that stupid article and completely overreacted and pushed him away without giving him a chance to explain.

When this was all over, and Raleigh’s situation was fixed, she would have to fix their relationship, too. Tell him she believed him; that she didn’t care what his intentions used to be, because clearly, they’d changed. She knew, beyond any scientifically proven certainty, that his actions in the past few days, weeks even, had only been to make her feel better. He tried to make her happy.

But he didn’t know he was her happiness. And one day soon, she’d tell him.

“Really?” Raleigh tapped her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have thought that of you, Phoenix.” He shook his head in pretend disappointment while Levi laughed. “Come on, you have to strike back. Tell me an embarrassing childhood story about Levi.”

Wait—what did that rascal say about her? Never mind. She had plenty of ammunition. “Hmm, what about that time at Tony’s?”

“Oh, no. Don’t you dare,” Levi said.

Callie spread her lips in a wide smile and turned to Raleigh. “He might not look like it now, but when we were kids, Levi had quite the sweet tooth. One day, he tried stealing a lollipop from Tony’s General Store.”

“A delinquent, huh?” Raleigh said.

Levi raised a hand. “I was never proven guilty.”

“Yes, but Tony told us he’d installed ‘anti-child cameras,’ which would instantly detect a thief and teleport them to prison. And strangely, Levi was deathly afraid of going to the general store from that day onward.”

Raleigh tilted his head to Levi. “Teleport to prison? Really?”

“Hey, we were all gullible kids once.”

“I’d call that a draw on embarrassing childhood stories.” Raleigh glanced to the high striker and back at Callie. “Now, Phoenix, are you ready to go?”

Later on, after games had been tested and cotton candy devoured, they walked around the festival, enjoying the music, the mingling of sweet and spicy food smells, and the soft illumination of string lights woven across stalls and tents. Afternoon slipped into evening and the place filled up. But even with the crowd, it wasn’t hard to spot Shanna—hanging around the entrance, she stood out like a sore thumb, not as much because of her outfit, but because of her indecisive shuffling from foot to foot.

Callie hesitated, but Raleigh didn’t; he called Shanna’s name and waved at her. She twitched as if waking up from daydreaming and approached.

“Hi,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do with the rest of my day. Or, in general.”

“Entertainment is usually the right answer,” Raleigh said. “Want us to show you around?”

Shanna looked at Callie as if seeking permission, then at Raleigh, and quickly lowered her eyes. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company.”

So around the festival they went again, until they came to an area dominated by a long table, with people gathering in front.

Raleigh raised his chin, sniffed visibly, then raised his eyes above the table. “I knew I smelled chicken wings.”

A bright banner above the table announced, in a bold red-and-orange font, The Hot Wings Competition .

“No,” Callie said.

“Relax, I’ll be the one competing,” Raleigh said.

“That’s exactly my concern. You’re in Louisiana. Do you even realize how spicy things get down here?”

A corner of his mouth lifted in a suggestive smile.

“Okay, I walked right into that one,” she admitted. “I meant the food.”

“The spicier, the better.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Shanna asked.

“That’s exactly what I tell him all the time!”

“Wonderful. Now I have two women questioning my life choices,” Raleigh said in mock annoyance.

“You know he eats pufferfish? And he bit into a truffle of unknown edibility,” Callie continued.

“You were the one who wanted to go look for truffles.”

“And you’re the one who bit into it!”

Callie caught Shanna smiling—gently, lovingly, even, at Raleigh before she noticed Callie and lowered her eyes again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s strange, seeing you. But you’re not you.”

“Oh,” Raleigh said. “If it’s too awkward …”

“No! I’ll be fine.” She picked at her dress. “Your smile is different.”

“Than what?”

“Than his. I don’t know how it can be, because you have his face, but … not his smile.”

“I don’t know anything about Simon, save for what I gathered from other people’s reactions,” he said. “What was he like?”

Shanna cheered up instantly; her cheeks gained more color, and her eyes more shine. “He was wonderful. So funny and smart and always so confident—he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. He didn’t smile as much as you, but he’d quirk his lips in a way—I can’t really describe it …”

“You must miss him a lot,” Raleigh said quietly.

Shanna nodded, squeezing her lips as if trying not to get too emotional.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him back.”

A sting of jealousy pierced Callie. Shanna wasn’t in love with Raleigh, but he was in Simon’s body. Raleigh might not have his smile, but he was right there, and when Shanna looked at him that way, Callie wanted to scratch at her with the ferociousness Theia usually reserved for the shiniest furniture.

It was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. As for Shanna’s feelings, it was clear she loved Simon very much. She came all this way to save him, and even through her jealousy, Callie understood that.

“They’re starting.” Raleigh jogged backward toward the competition. “Wish me luck, ladies!” He saluted, then turned around and ran to the table.

“He’s insane,” Shanna said in a weak voice.

“A little bit,” Callie answered. And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

After the competition and a normal meal—po’boys Callie and Shanna got from a food stall—Shanna said her goodbyes and headed back to her lodgings. Callie and Raleigh strolled around until Callie spotted a familiar tent, a gaudy purple sign in front announcing it as Madame Fortuna’s Readings .

“No way she’s still here.” Even back then, Madame Fortuna was as old as the world itself. Well, at least that’s what little Callie had thought of any person with wrinkles.

“See what I mean with your namings?” Raleigh said. “If I told someone I was about to see Madame Something at Venus Something, they’d think I was going to a brothel.”

“She’s a fortune teller.”

“I can tell from the picture of the crystal ball. Not my point. That said …” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Wanna get lucky?”

“You’re the worst today.”

“It’s the hot wings.”

Callie shook her head and looked toward the tent’s veiled entrance. She and Mila would always get readings from Madame Fortuna, even though Callie’s family could do the same. Callie used to joke she wanted a second opinion.

She wouldn’t believe in Madame Fortuna’s opinion now, but nostalgia reached its long fingers for her, and her feet started moving toward the veil, a little girl dragged into the world of mystery and mysticism.

The inside of the tent was pitch black. Callie wondered if Madame Fortuna had closed already when a candle lit up on the further side of the round room, illuminating the hooded face of an old woman.

Behind Callie, Raleigh jumped. “Whoa. That was scary, but effective.”

“Come, girl,” Madame Fortuna said. “Let me see you.”

Callie stepped closer to the light. Madame Fortuna looked the same as she remembered, perhaps with a wrinkle or two more; but she still had the penchant for gold-embroidered hooded cloaks, flashy rings, and striking green eye shadow.

The fortune teller looked at Callie with a mysterious half-smile. “Sit. Show me your hand.”

The good old hand reading. Callie and Mila would fight for who gets to go first and pester Madame Fortuna with questions.

Callie sat and put her hand on the velvet-covered table, palm up.

“Are you suuure I can’t do better on the test?” little Callie would’ve asked.

Madame Fortuna cupped her hand, gently tracing the lines with her fingers.

“You always can,” the fortune teller would’ve said back then. “The lines only tell me what destiny has in store for you. But destiny can’t compete with your desires.”

“You’re curious,” Madame Fortuna said. “And ravenous. Ravenous to explore, to experience, to enjoy. You …” She followed a line, then looked up. “I know this palm. You’re Callie.”

“You remember me?”

“How could I forget? Your Life always ran long into the Mount of Venus.”

Oh, no. Raleigh didn’t need more ammunition.

“What does her Mount of Venus say?” Raleigh asked from the entrance.

“That she’s currently annoyed with you,” Madame Fortuna shot back.

“You know what, you can do him.” Callie pulled her hand back. “I mean, his palm reading.”

“Oh, can you?” Raleigh asked.

Madame Fortuna gave a slightly tired nod. “Go ahead.”

Callie gave up her seat to Raleigh, and he offered his hand to the fortune teller, winking at Callie.

“Interesting,” Madame Fortuna murmured. “You’re a hunter. In the olden days, you would’ve been a conqueror. A king. Merciless, but efficient. Successful, through your own talents, though not without the contribution of others.”

Raleigh looked at Callie, eyebrows raised in question. A merciless, but efficient conqueror? That didn’t sound anything like him.

“Uh, I may have forgotten to mention a small detail,” he said. “It’s going to sound weird, but this isn’t my body.”

Madame Fortuna blinked once. “Understandable. In that case, a card reading should do instead.” She pulled out a deck of tarot cards. “Do you have specific questions, or would you like a general reading?”

Oh, the questions—he couldn’t see the end of them. Will Callie’s family help me? Will I become a ghost? What will happen to Simon? What will happen to me, if Simon also comes back? Have I lost Callie by being an idiot? Did she ever love me?

He probably shouldn’t test Madame Fortuna’s patience. “General will do.”

She shuffled the deck and fanned the cards out, swiftly and precisely as a croupier. “Pull three, the ones that speak to you.”

Raleigh did so, and once the cards were selected, Madame Fortuna put away the rest and flipped the first card. The mysterious smile spread across her face again as she tapped the first card, featuring a fine gold-ink drawing of a young man in jester’s clothes gazing up at the starry sky. “The Fool. Ranked zero for a reason—it has unlimited potential. It can be the beginning or the end. He’s the change and the consistency; in that he always follows you through life.”

She flipped the second card. It showed a man sitting on a throne, a scepter in his hand, rays forming a halo around his head. “Curious. He chases you even to here—the Emperor. He’s not you, but he is connected to you. Perhaps the last card will reveal how.”

Callie resisted rolling her eyes. Of course, Madame Fortuna knew which cards to pull—the first one was neutral enough, and the second one related to the palm reading. It was like a horoscope; make sure it was generic enough, and those who wanted would see themselves in it.

She supposed it was fun for those people—Madame Fortuna’s readings used to be fun for her—but that didn’t make them any more real.

Madame Fortuna flipped the last card. It displayed a man hanging upside down from a tree with mirrored branches and roots.

“I don’t like the look of this one,” Raleigh murmured.

Callie gulped. One didn’t spend eighteen years with the Guidry Witches and not know tarot card names—and meanings—by heart.

The Hanged Man.

“You’re in limbo,” Madame Fortuna said. “In a period where an important decision about your life needs to be made. A part of that decision might not be made by you, but you’re still in the center of it.” She tapped the drawing of the hanged man. “A sacrifice will have to be made. Others might not understand it, but you will.”

“I think we’ve seen enough.” Callie tugged Raleigh’s sleeve, but she couldn’t move him until he stood up himself.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as Callie dragged him out of the tent. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m tired of the mumbo-jumbo.”

“You don’t think the reading was real?”

She scoffed. “Of course not.” But she could still see the Hanged Man and hated the uneasiness that had crept into her bones.

“Let’s go,” Raleigh said. “It’s getting late, and I think the hot wings are about to demand their revenge.”

Callie had calmed down a bit by the time they reached the inn. They stopped in front of her room.

Raleigh wore the wooden floor with one shoe, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Good night, then.”

Some other night, she would’ve stopped him. She’d beg his forgiveness, tell him how she felt, and ask him if he could be her other half, forever.

But this wasn’t the night. In a few days, when Raleigh’s problem was fixed, and there were no more worries he’d turn into a ghost, she’d do it.

In a few days when, hopefully, she’d forget all about the Hanged Man.