Dad is marrying Hilary. She’s pregnant. And moving in with us in a few weeks.
I tried really hard to act happy for Dad, but he didn’t ask me how I felt about it. So I guess he didn’t really want to know.
As I write this, my mother’s picture is looking at me from the dresser across the room. I wonder what she would think of all this. I honestly have no idea-I barely knew her. She died when I was three. I like to think that she’d be glad my father is happy with someone new. I like to think that she was a nicer person that I am.
Hilary is coming over later. I’m glad I won’t be around, I’m going to circle. I have to admit that when Bree first asked if I wanted to join Kithic, I wasn’t so sure that it was a good idea. But at the very first circle we held hands and Sky taught us how to feel the each other’s energy. It was truly magical, the kind of experience you can’t put into words. I felt myself opening up like a flower. That’s the best thing about the coven. In a weird way-I don’t really understand it myself-it’s almost like coming home.
Bree just called to tell me she’s going to be about ten minutes late to pick me up. She’s giving Morgan a ride, too. I know it’s dumb, but Morgan makes me uncomfortable. She has magical powers. Of course, everyone else in the coven thinks it’s incredibly cool. One time she made flowers appear out of thin air. I had to look around at everyone else and tell myself, ‘It’s all right. Nobody else is scared.’ Then I focused on my breathing to calm myself.
I know that magick is a part of Wicca, and the smaller spells-using herbs and oils to heal, channelling your energy toward something you want to achieve, but Morgan’s magick is different. It feels dangerous, out of control. And even her own sister is afraid of it.
But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t drive to circle with Morgan or even that she isn’t a nice person. Right?
— Alisa
“You look gorgeous,” I told Bree as I ducked into her BMW, Breezy, on Saturday evening. She wore a soft-looking gray coat over black wool pants and managed to look sleek, sophisticated, and sexy all at once.
“Thanks,” Bree said without enthusiasm.
“So,” I said, “will Robbie be at the circle?” I actually already knew the answer to this—Robbie and I had chatted for about one second that afternoon before Mrs. Fiorello, my mom’s coworker, had beeped in on the other line and I’d had to hand the phone over to my mom. But I was looking for an opening. In fact, I’d asked Bree for a ride especially so I could talk to her.
“Yeah, he’ll be there.” There was an odd note in her voice. My opening.
“Is everything okay with you guys?” I asked as nonchalantly as I could.
“What do you mean?” Bree’s voice was taut, like a piano wire.
“I don’t know, you just seem to be. . not yourself lately.” I gripped the door handle, preparing for an attack. Bree could be prickly about personal comments.
She sighed. “Yeah,” she said, and her voice trailed off into the darkness. The road hummed beneath us, and for a moment I thought that she wasn’t going to say anything else. “I’ve been feeling—I don’t know.” Bree shook her head, as if frustrated that the thoughts wouldn’t form a cohesive sentence for her. “I guess I’ve been feeling kind of possessive.” She laughed. “Pretty weird, huh?”
“For you? Um, yeah,” I agreed. “You usually run for the hills when someone acts possessive with you.”
“Tell me about it.” Bree scowled. “I just can’t seem to stop myself. It’s just—I’ve never felt this way about a guy before.”
“But that’s great,” I said. “It means you care.”
“Maybe.” Bree sounded doubtful. “I’ve never really let myself get this close to someone before. I guess this is why.” Running an impatient hand through her dark hair, she added, “I really hate the way I’m feeling right now, Morgan. I hate the way I’m acting. I don’t want to be clingy and needy—but I just don’t want to let Robbie out of my sight. I guess I’m just worried that he’s going to get bored with me or something. That now that I actually care about someone, he’s going to move on.”
I reached over and grabbed Bree’s hand. Even through our gloves, I could feel her hand radiating heat. “That’s not going to happen,” I assured her. “Robbie is nuts about you. He’s been nuts about you for a long time—and that’s not going to change.” I pictured Robbie in my mind, remembering how he’d confessed to me his feelings for Bree. “Besides, he’d never want to hurt you.”
Bree squeezed my hand. There was a catch in her voice as she said, “I know.”
I leaned my head against the cool passenger’s-side window. I wanted to say more, but we were almost at Alisa’s house, and I didn’t want to discuss this in front of her. My breath made a steamy crescent on the side of the window, and I remembered the two of us in elementary school, breathing on the cold glass of the school bus window and writing our names in the steam. That was before Bree’s mom moved away to live with her boyfriend in Europe. It was before her older brother, Ty, went off to college and before Bree’s corporate-lawyer father began working so hard that she hardly ever saw him anymore. Bree was so beautiful and poised, it was easy to forget that her life was sort of lonely. Until now, she’d always kept the guys she dated at a safe distance. But Robbie was different—they’d been friends before they started going out, and he knew her too well to be satisfied with staying at arm’s length. He was chipping away at the wall that surrounded her. I wondered whether it would open her up to caring about people in a new way or whether it might make her crumble.
I briefly considered talking to Robbie about what was going on with Bree but rejected the thought. It was their relationship, after all. Instead I asked her, “Have you spoken to Robbie about this?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Maybe you should.”
Bree bit her lip and didn’t reply. She made a left turn. The silence yawned between us as we pulled up into the circular driveway in front of a small, tidy ranch-style house. Alisa must have been watching for us because a moment later she hurried out the front door.
Bree turned to me. “Okay, I’ll talk to him,” she said quickly.
Good, I thought. I’d done my good deed for the day.
Alisa said a shy hello, and Bree eased the car back onto the road toward Hunter’s house. The car was silent for the rest of the drive. I guess we were all lost in our own thoughts.
Hunter’s small living room was already filling up by the time we arrived. The room was lit by the warm glow of candles, and in the soft light the worn furniture seemed comfortable and welcoming. The air was heavy with the scent of mulling spices—Sky must have put a pot of cider on the stove. Robbie stood in the corner, talking to Simon Bakehouse, but the minute we walked in, he flashed Bree an enormous grin and hurried over. I gave Bree an I-told-you-so look, and she smiled as Robbie draped an arm around her shoulders. They melted into the rear of the room.
From his place by the tattered armchair, Hunter waved to me and continued an intense-looking conversation with Sky. Jenna came over and said hello to me, and she and I chatted for a few minutes. “Are you feeling all right?” I asked.