Chapter 22
“I have the strawberries and blossom water!”
There’s no time to hear the door swing open before Kaitlynn yells her presence.
“Orange blossom, right?” I yell from the kitchen. The last time she went to the store without me for ingredients, she came back with yellow cake mix instead of the powdered sugar in my text, plus a ton of candy.
“Of course, of course!” Kaitlynn lumbers around the corner with not one but three reusable grocery bags in tow.
I stop and huff. “What did you get?”
“The necessities.” She shrugs, dropping them on the kitchen table behind me. Her hands dip inside the first bag and she starts pulling things out. “The strawberries. Can’t make our margs without them. Orange blossom water.”
I squint, examining the clear bottle while she lowers it to the table. Okay, good. She got the right thing.
“Chips. Your favorite.” Kaitlynn lifts a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, then an orange bag. “Cheetos for me. And of course, candy.”
Kaitlynn tips the third bag over and heaps of individually wrapped candies scatter the table. So much sugar.
“What the…?” I gasp. She always does this. “Why?”
“The better question is why not?” Kaitlynn shrugs, picking up a plastic sleeve of Smarties and dumping the entire packet in her mouth.
“Isn’t that sort of why not?” I squint.
“Nah,” she says, crunching down on the chalky bits.
The day our metabolisms slow down, we’re both screwed. Enjoy it while I’m young, right? I pick out a Twix and unwrap it as I go back to the kitchen counter.
“You going to make the margaritas first?” I ask.
“Yep.” Kaitlynn breaks open the strawberries. “You’re really going to forget those boys tonight!”
“Oh my gods, Kaity!” I huff. I’d managed not to think of either of them for the past hour, but now their gray eyes are plastered in my mind again. “Not helping! And the drinks are virgin, not alcoholic!”
“Duh.” She rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t mean we can’t act like it!”
“The blender’s in—”
“I know where it’s at.” Kaitlynn grins at me.
I close my eyes for a brief moment, letting the music sink in, hoping it’ll fill up some of those areas where their faces are still trying to pop into view.
I need a calm night. Not more stress. Especially since I’m going to have to listen to death metal in a bit.
Kaity’s been into it lately. A whole lot.
Like it’s scary, but she loves it, and like a good friend I let her make the list.
Tonight’s goal is simple. Bake one cake each, make frozen virgin margaritas, blare music, then watch Practical Magic while we devour our creations. I’m also going to send half of mine home with Kaitlynn for her mom. And no boys. No talk of them. No thinking about them. Just us and our food.
“Your mom around?” Kaitlynn asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “She’s in her room.”
“Ah,” Kaitlynn says, switching off the blender and setting it in the freezer. She comes over and settles to my right in front of her ingredients, picks up her directions, and starts rearranging her bowls.
“Of course,” I groan, gesturing at the bowls. I swear she only does it because she knows I like them a certain way.
“Duh,” she says, and we both laugh.
“Fine, let’s get to baking,” I tell her. “First you’ll—”
Kaitlynn puts a finger up, a spoon in her other hand.
“Tsk, tsk,” she utters. “I know what I’m doing.”
I shrug doubtfully as she picks up the jar of peanut butter and dunks the spoon inside. It comes out with a huge gooey dollop. She looks at me with the happiest grin and licks the spoon clean.
“That’s how you start.” She nods affirmatively.
“Chef’s privilege.” I shake my head, but I’m smiling anyway. “Just do your thing and try not to burn my house down. And clean that spoon before you start.”
* * *
“You realize this movie is ten years older than we are, right?” Kaitlynn slouches on the sofa next to me.
“And?” I shrug. Sure, it’s not new, but it’s aged like a fine wine. At least that’s what I hear Mom say.
Why else would the opening credits be playing on my television right now?
Maybe most of my generation hasn’t seen it, but it’s one of Mom’s favorites, so we used to watch it together.
It’s also one of the things that sparked my interest in witchcraft.
It wasn’t the main thing, I think that was my civics project freshman year.
It sort of soured my take on religion and put me on the path to spirituality and witchcraft.
“It’s old!” Kaitlynn complains. She’d never been fond of it, but I still make her watch it when I get the chance. “Like sooo old.”
“We’re watching it! I’m not turning it off.”
She should be glad. She can’t keep her mouth shut during movies, and usually that drives me up a wall. Lucky for her, since I’ve watched it so many times, I don’t mind for this one.
“Fine,” Kaitlynn huffs while an early American scene unveils on the screen. It’s time for a witch hanging, or at least that’s what they think.
Sort of like I thought I’d get through this night without thinking of the Marcus boys.
Yeah, that didn’t happen. Why is it so hard not to think of them?
I just need this movie to start so I can let the dopamine from one of my favorite stories fill my brain and crowd out the junk I don’t want to think about, especially Zach.
He sent a text after school today. So that didn’t help. It’s the first from him since Wednesday, but it’s like it came at just the wrong time. It isn’t anything problematic, or sappy, or about us, or even Hayden. I don’t know, maybe that’s worse though.
I unlock my phone and let his last text sit on the screen.
ZACHARY: How r u?
I haven’t opened it yet. It’s just the preview, so he can’t see I’ve read it. That’s all it is though. How r u?
Well, I’m sort of losing my mind, Zach. I’ve managed to unintentionally convince your whole family, and now both our high schools, that your older brother and I are dating when we’re definitely not.
Now even Hayden thinks we are. How does this shit even happen?
Oh, and to make things even worse, I think I like you!
I’m one hundred percent not replying. Oh gods, I did it again! Stop thinking about them!
“You remember the forts we used to make at my house?” Kaitlynn interrupts the movie, and thankfully my thoughts.
“The blanket forts? In your playroom?” I ask.
“Yep.” She grins big.
Her parents converted their finished basement into this massive playroom when we were around five.
It’s the whole length of their house and filled with toys, and a lot of spare chairs.
It was always cold down there in the winter, so Kaity’s mom always left us a big stack of blankets.
We’d suspend them between the walls and chairs, or chairs and tables, or with whatever we could find that was heavy enough to keep them in place.
They were elaborate for blanket forts. Whole rooms, halls, and entrance. We’d play in them for hours.
“Those were so much fun!” I tell her. “Except that one time it collapsed on me, and I thought I was going to die.”
“Yeah, that one wasn’t so good. It had been up a couple days though,” Kaitlynn reasons.
Try being the one suffocating under four comforters at like seven years old with a big chair tipped over on top. I can’t say safety had been one of our biggest concerns in our building codes. It never was. They were fun, that’s what we were worried about.
“It’s been forever. This might sound sort of silly, but why don’t we do that anymore?” she asks.
We grew out of it? I don’t know. It’s weird now that she brings it up. It’s like one day we were spreading blankets between chairs and navigating tiny phone-lit multicolored halls, and then boom, we’re doing makeup and talking about boys and college.
“Guess we just grew up.” I shrug. I was about to suggest we try it again soon, but we’re sixteen. Isn’t that too old for that type of thing? A part of me recoils in embarrassment even thinking about blanket forts. “We’re older now.”
“Sounds lame if you ask me,” Kaitlynn says.
“Well, I didn’t say…” I shoot her a grin.
“So rude,” she says.
“The worst.” I roll my eyes and smile back.
“You so are,” she laughs.
“That’s not what I meant, bitch!” I laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” she giggles, and we settle down into a quiet contemplation.
“And we didn’t have boy problems then. I still can’t get Za—”
“No! Don’t say his name! It’s not allowed tonight!” Kaity jumps across the couch and shoves her pointer finger against my lips to shush me. WOW! Aggressive much? I wasn’t going to start spilling my guts about him. “Tonight is a boy drama-free night, except for what’s her name’s drama.”
She’s pointing at the television, and honestly I’m surprised she doesn’t know Sandra Bullock’s character’s name by now.
Sandra’s an icon. A literal treasure! There is no way she doesn’t know Sandra’s name, or her character’s name, not after watching this one with me at least five or six times before.
Hell, I know I’ve made her watch The Lake House and Two Weeks Notice too!
“Sandra Bullock. She’s Sally in this,” I say, exasperated. “Sally and Gary. The detective.”
“Yeah, Sally. Hers can stay, but you aren’t allowed to think about it tonight,” she says. That was sort of the point.
“Yeah.” I give her a muffled sigh.
It gets quiet for a little after that, and I manage to let myself be drawn back into the movie. Sally’s at her apothecary stocking, and a crashing noise echoes in the shop. This is where it gets sad.
“You decided where you want to go to college yet?” Kaitlynn asks, pulling me back away before I can get too invested.
It’s so far off topic. But, to answer her question, no, not really. Part of me doesn’t want to think about it. I don’t really want to get away from here like everyone else, I want to stick around. I’m not entirely sure I want to leave Mom all by herself either.
“Not really,” I admit.
“Same,” she huffs.
“But you know what you want to do, right?” I ask. I know the answer, but I thought she was more excited about going off to college.
“Yeah.” She sinks further into the couch. “But who’s going to take care of you if I go off somewhere?”
“Oh my! Don’t even start with that.” I roll my eyes and playfully kick her shin. “I’m not a child—”
“You sort of ar—”
“I won’t be.” I come back quick. “But you know what I mean. I don’t need to be taken care of.”
“I know, but it seems like so much. You know…college.”
Now I get her tone. She’s more worried about college as a whole, not me, and I can sympathize with that. Especially if it’s far away. Maybe she’ll go somewhere close, or maybe an hour or so away. There are a few good places in that radius.
“Yeah, it does.”
“You still thinking nursing?” she asks.
Thinking, yes. Wanting though? I don’t really want to, but it seems like my most sensible option. Who wants to work?
“I’d rather open an apothecary here, but yeah, nursing,” I tell her. I can start that at the local community college too, so I’d get to stay close by. “What about you?”
“Yeah,” Kaitlynn sighs. She’s heard about my newish dream of owning my own shop. She also knows it’s a wild pipe dream at best. “Still thinking veterinarian. Maybe go to UT or State.”
I sigh. University of Texas. An out-of-state school.
“It’s not like we can’t visit each other.”
I think that’s what bums her the most. It’s what scares me about graduating. Going off to different schools and not getting to hang out. Growing distant. We’ve not been apart for more than maybe two weeks for years. I’m going to be so lost without her.
I swear I won’t let it happen.
“Yeah,” she says.
“How about we promise each other right now that we’ll always be friends, no matter what?” I suggest. Her eyes lighten up even in the dark. “I’ll even promise on my amethyst.”
“Are you sure? Are you supposed to do that?” Kaitlynn sits up and asks.
The honest answer to that question is I don’t know. I’m just going to hope right now that it isn’t like bad juju or something. It sure isn’t what the stone was meant for, but that’s the beauty of witchcraft. It’s malleable and easily conformed to need; it is what it’s needed to be.
“Sure,” I say, and grab my necklace in my hand and squeeze it. Kaitlynn grabs my other hand and I start. “Repeat with me three times. No matter how far apart we may be, I will always be your friend.”
“No matter how far apart we may be, I will always be your friend.” She smiles and says it again.
I tighten my grip around the tiny bottle on my necklace, imagining the amethyst inside as I say the last recitation. I need this to work. We might bug the shit out of each other sometimes, but she’s my forever person.
“No matter how far apart we may be, I will always be your friend.”