Karaoke Chemistry: A Witchy Small Town Romcom (Sacred River Book 2)

28. Riggs

THE SKINNY CHORUS kid in me may hate pep rallies, but the high school principal in me straight-up loves them.

I’ve spent the past hour trying to talk Mr. Dander into letting the drum line go full out and do a whole routine for the pep rallies, and the man is blocking me at every turn. I’m beginning to think he’s got a personal vendetta against showmanship.

“The marching band has a tradition to uphold,” Mr. Dander sniffs.

“Tradition of boring,” I mutter, reaching the heavy plastic banner as far as I can safely go on the twenty-foot ladder.

“To the right a little,” Mr. Dander says.

“No, he just needs to lift it some,” Mrs. Hayes cuts in. “Put your glasses on.”

“They are on!”

The ladder wiggles beneath me and I hold steady. “I’m trying to reach a nail that’s permanently lodged in here,” I call down. “So I don’t care if it’s sideways, it’s going on that nail and that’s that.”

Mr. Dander and Mrs. Hayes both mumble something I can’t hear, and probably don’t want to. I have no idea how I got roped into doing this, but next time, the senior boys’ basketball team seems like the perfect group of candidates to get this up.

“How old is this thing?” I ask.

“It’s a perfectly fine banner,” Mr. Dander huffs.

“The wolf looks like a second grader got hold of some design software in the early two-thousands,” Coach declares as he wanders into the gym. “I’ve been trying to get Mrs. Hayes to approve a new one for years.”

“Unnecessary expense,” Mr. Dander says.

“Oh, like new plumes for the marching band hats is a legitimate expense?” Coach shoots back.

Sweat beads on my forehead as I try once more to reach the nail that’s taunting me, mere inches from me in the painted white cinderblock. “Are you sure this is the right spot?”

“Maybe come down and move the ladder,” Coach suggests.

“Almost…there!” I finally manage to hook the banner onto the nail.

Coach claps his hands once. “That’s it. I’m ordering a new one. Mrs. Hayes, you better approve it. It’s not nearly as much as those stupid plumes.”

“The plumes aren’t stupid!” Mr. Dander insists, his voice as reedy as an oboe.

I shift my body to tell them both to stop acting like children, but the ladder wobbles again. Only this time, there’s no getting my balance back. Panicked, I grab for anything to hold on to, and my hand finds the edge of the banner.

Except my hands are sweaty, and my fingers don’t find purchase on the plastic.

“Finlay?” Coach sounds concerned, and he should be, because the banner and I are going down.

Fuck.

It should shockno one when I say that high school kids are easily distracted. And that’s especially true when the ambulance arrives at school, siren blaring, causing every kid with a view out the front windows to completely dispatch with their studies and focus instead on the fun that is watching their idiot principal get loaded onto a stretcher.

Magnolia had gotten to my side in the gym almost immediately, despite having a class to teach. Worry pinched her brow as she scanned me, bruised head to questionable ankle.

“Damnedest thing,” Coach told her. “He was hanging a banner one second, then he’d fallen the next.”

I didn’t bother mentioning that nothing would have happened if he and Dander hadn’t been arguing like preschoolers. Or that I probably shouldn’t have been so high up on the ladder without someone at the bottom to steady me. Or that maybe I should have just moved the stupid ladder in the first place.

Either way, off to the emergency room I go, in a ridiculous ambulance because Mrs. Hayes insisted on calling it.

Magnolia holds my hand as the paramedics prepare to load me into the back, letting go only when one of them looks at her and says, “Ma’am?”

She releases me with no small amount of reluctance, and it makes my heart fucking leap at the care in her eyes. “I’ll meet you there,” she promises, leaning to maintain eye contact even as the paramedics shut the doors.

She’s already waiting for me when we get there, because apparently she beat the ambulance. It makes sense, as the driver took his sweet time, but I still smile at my love when we arrive. Even though everything hurts and I’m tired.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep on me, Riggs,” Magnolia snaps.

“So bossy,” I croak. I make myself stay awake, because it’s almost certain I have a concussion. I got one during my stint in the Marines, and it’s a feeling you don’t forget.

The paramedics hand me off to the waiting ER staff, and I don’t know if Magnolia got there early enough to clear the way for her to accompany me, or if she’s simply that intimidating to the guys wheeling me into the back, but either way, she stays right by my side.

It takes a while, but eventually the diagnoses come: mild concussion and a broken ankle. I’m grateful that it’s my left one, but it still isn’t the best news.

The doctor looks between both of us after the cast is put on. “I’d like you to stay overnight for observation,” she concludes.

“What if I watch him?” Magnolia asks.

The doctor hesitates.

“Please?” Magnolia continues. “I can promise you I’ll keep just as good an eye on him as anyone here.”

After another moment, the doctor nods. “Okay. You bring him back immediately if he shows any signs of something being wrong.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I was not looking forward to an overnight stay, and I have to wonder if Magnolia sensed that. It’s not that I have anything against hospitals, but I’d prefer not to be here if I don’t have to be.

It’s another hour before I’m discharged and hobbling into the passenger seat of Magnolia’s little car. It was no small feat for her to shove the scooter they insist I have to use into the back seat, and now, she flops with a huff into the driver’s seat.

I suppress a grin as I look at how adorably disheveled she is. “I’m sorry.”

She frowns. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is my fault, Riggs. I—god, I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault.” I hurry to reassure her, waving my hand up and down myself. “I did this all on my own.”

She pulls out of the parking lot and shakes her head firmly. “This has everything to do with the curse. It might be worse now that I have the veilstone.”

I look over, surprised that she’d think the stone would have anything to do with my falling. “Magnolia, seriously. I fell because I was clumsy. That’s it.” Then I peer at the speedometer and look in the side mirror to see a line of cars behind us. “Um, Mags?”

She tightens her hands on the wheel in what is certainly a ten-two death grip. “Yes?”

“I think you need to speed up.”

“I have to be careful with you, Riggs.”

“Okay, but you need to drive faster than twenty miles per hour. It might honestly be more dangerous to drive this slowly.”

“I know what I’m doing,” she states flatly.

“If you mean you know how to piss off an entire line of cars that stretches who knows how far back, then yes, you’re doing great.” When she doesn’t respond, I try another tactic. “I really just want to get home, Mags. Can you please speed up?”

She sighs. “I hate it when you say please.”

I laugh. “Why’s that?”

“Because then I almost have to do it. It’s annoying.” She speeds up to thirty-five. It’s still below the speed limit, but it’s better than nothing.

She looks over at me when she finally pulls into her house’s driveway. “We’re staying at your house. I’ve got to get some things first.”

I opt to stay in the car, and she’s back quickly. It’s another five excruciating minutes before we’re finally at my house, and five more before I’ve made it to the couch.

I wince as I stretch my leg out while Magnolia hovers beside me, biting her lip.

“You’re home now, so you can be honest. How bad is it?”

I’m about to answer everything hurts and I’d really like to take a nap when my front door bursts open. I startle, knocking my ankle against a pillow and nearly howling in pain. “What the fuck?” I growl.

Magnolia whips around. “Aspen?”

Aspen doesn’t bother with niceties. “I brought tea.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Please come in.”

“Let’s not beat around the bush. You’re in pain, and instead of immediately getting to business and brewing something up that will actually take away that pain, my sister over-corrected. She drove too slowly, she stopped at our house instead of bringing you immediately home, and now she’s standing there like a lump on a log instead of helping me make you feel better.” She pauses. “Am I right?”

I grimace. “Yes.”

Magnolia lets out a squeak of protest. “I was about to?—”

Aspen sweeps out of the room and aims straight for the kitchen. Judging by the racket she’s making, she’s not wasting any time.

Magnolia exhales, and her shoulders slump. She turns those caramel eyes on me, and they’re full of sorrow. “I can tell you’re in a lot of pain,” she mumbles. “Your aura is sad.”

I chuckle and pat the couch. “Sit with me.”

She lowers herself gingerly, perching on the edge and going to an absurd amount of trouble to not touch me. “I’ve messed everything up.”

I reach for her hand, and she looks at it.

“Come on, my little witch,” I cajole softly, wiggling my fingers. “Don’t bail on me now.”

She huffs a watery laugh and finally takes my hand. That familiar spark pushes into me, and I smile. “Better?” she asks.

“Much,” I say, then raise our hands so I can kiss hers. After a moment, I start to feel better. “Are you doing that?”

She ducks her head. “It’s the least I can do.”

I smile. “Not that I don’t appreciate the good vibes—I do—but I’ve had a broken leg before. This is nothing.”

“I mean about this.” She gestures around with her free hand. “Us.”

I squeeze her hand. “We’ll be okay. This is a speed bump. A little bumpy bump.”

“This is more than a bumpy bump, Riggs. It’s like we’re at the beginning of one of those ‘Final Destination’ movies, where stuff will keep happening to you until…” She stops, swallowing and shaking her head. “No. I won’t even think that, let alone say it.”

“This isn’t part of the curse.”

“It probably is,” Aspen says as she breezes back into the room.

I growl again. “Not helpful.”

She shrugs, utterly unapologetic. “I know this ‘dating a witch’ thing is new to you, so let me be super clear: if Magnolia says that what’s happening is part of the curse, then guess what?” She blinks at me. “This is where you answer my question, Riggs.”

“I thought it was rhetorical.” Magnolia’s helpful touch notwithstanding, I’m still a little snappy thanks to the pain I’m in. “I’m guessing you want me to say that if Magnolia says that it’s part of the curse, then I should believe her.”

Aspen raises a thin eyebrow, and the small gesture tells me exactly what she thinks of me right now.

I sigh. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve had a shit day and my entire body hurts.”

Magnolia squeezes my hand. “Apology accepted.”

Aspen sniffs. “We’ll see.” She shoves a mug in my face. “Drink this. All of it. It doesn’t taste great, but there’s nothing to be done about it. It’s effective, and you won’t care when you’re on cloud nine in five minutes.”

“Hang on.” Magnolia plucks it out of Aspen’s hand before I can grab it.

Aspen rolls her eyes. “I love a good trick as much as the next sister, Mags, but now is not the time. He really needs to rest. And before you say anything, I dialed the intensity back since he has a concussion.”

Magnolia smells the tea anyway. Apparently satisfied, she hands it over.

It smells earthy, like mushrooms and moss. I take a tentative sip, then suppress a retch. “Oh god.”

Magnolia chuckles as Aspen crosses her arms. “Faster you drink it, faster it’s over.”

It tastes like what I imagine one of those poisonous caterpillars would taste like. Which is to say: disgusting. I toast the two of them, mutter a half-hearted “Bottom’s up,” and chug it as fast as I can.

“Attaboy,” Aspen praises, a rare smile crossing her face.

Magnolia takes the mug from me as I attempt to not hurl, because, my god. “That…was not okay,” I manage to get out.

“I’ll go get you some water.” Magnolia rises and lets go of my hand.

As soon as she’s out of the room, Aspen pins me with a glare. “Listen to me, and listen to me well.”

I blink a little slowly, already feeling the effects of whatever she put in the tea. “Mmkay.”

Aspen steps closer and drops her voice low. “Magnolia is a fucking treasure of a woman, but she’s even more of a powerful witch coming into her own. You will do as she asks, you will believe every fucking word that comes out of her mouth, and you will. Not. Fuck. This. Up. Do you understand?”

I think I might be drooling. I wipe at my chin and miss. “Dafugdidyouputanherrr?”

She smirks. “Do you understand?”

“Yep. Nofugup.” I try to give her a thumbs up. Am I floating?

“Aspen!” comes Magnolia’s exasperated voice. “Seriously? What did you do?”

“Nothing you can’t handle, little sis,” Aspen says.

My world goes dark.