Chapter 29
Kaity’s taillights disappear as I take a right into my driveway and turn the volume down to a reasonable level.
The lights are off inside the house, so I’m betting Mom is asleep.
At least, I’m hoping. I don’t really have a curfew per se, but I’m supposed to tell her if I’m going to be out past midnight.
I didn’t, and she started texting asking where I was and when I was going to be home.
I told her I was okay but didn’t answer the rest.
Tonight was needed. After ditching the bonfire, we made it to the house in downtown.
It felt good—better—being there. We snuck around back to get in.
The main entrance faces the road, and with the prominent NO TRESPASSING sign posted out front, it seemed safer.
Inside we found the first empty space, plopped down, and ended up just sitting and talking for hours surrounded by dusty cabinets and large cutouts where ovens and refrigerators used to be.
We talked about everything. How surprised we are it hasn’t snowed yet, the games we used to play in middle school, what color we want to get our nails next—Kaity wants pink with red tips, and I think I’m going back to matte black—and the time I fractured my ankle running up and down the bleachers in middle school.
We’d been racing. It was an all-around bad idea. Anything and everything, except them.
Okay, there was the one time Zachary came up. That was my fault. I thought he might like my nail color choice, but it was a dumb thought. Otherwise, I did good.
I twist the key in the ignition, and the engine dies and my heater cuts off. I squeeze my jacket to my chest to hold in what little heat I can before jumping out and rushing the porch. I slow just enough not to make a ton of noise unlocking and opening the door, and slip inside.
It’s dark. I can only make out the silhouettes of potted plants by the entry, the frames on the wall, and the doorways. I tiptoe down the hall, cringing every time the wood beneath the carpet creaks. I simply need to get to my room and jump in bed.
“Mackenzie Nicholas Jackson.” Mom’s voice jumps at me from the living room.
I quake and freeze. She’s sitting in the dark on the couch with her arms crossed, but her eyes are clear and bold, and locked on me. Shit.
“Hey,” I say.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
For some reason I step past the doorway into the living room. I guess there’s no real point in trying to get away.
“I was with Kaity,” I say. She always complains it’s dangerous when I go to abandoned places, so I omit that part. “I told you I was okay.”
“That’s not the question. What were you up to?”
She’s not happy. It’s rare we get into arguments. I’m still not a fan.
“We were…” I start. “We were in downtown.”
Her brow raises, but she doesn’t say anything. Which means she’s not convinced that’s where it ends. I huff, then spill the truth.
“We went to an abandoned house.”
“In downtown?” She gets to her feet. “There could have been squatters, homeless people there. The police could have come. You could have gotten hurt. You know I don’t like it when you go to places like that.”
“Yes,” I whisper and dip my head. “I’m sorry.”
“So you weren’t at the bonfire?” she asks out of the blue.
“We went, but only for a few minutes and then we left,” I tell her. How does she know about that? I didn’t tell her. “It was lame.”
“You haven’t been drinking, have you?” Mom asks.
“What? No!” I stand taller. I mean, I about did, but I didn’t. I only took a sip. Why would she ask that though?
“You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“No! I swear it!” I say.
“Please don’t lie to me, Mackenzie. The police busted the bonfire because there was an accident,” Mom says.
“An accident?” I ask. Who? What happened? “Did someone get hurt?”
“No. But they could have,” she says. “But you didn’t drink there? And you left early?”
“I promise, Mom!” I say it yet again.
“You scared me, mein Schatz!” she says. She rushes over and gives me a hug. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I…” A lie nearly escapes, but I grab it and pull it back inside. I didn’t answer her call, I just gave her a vague text response. I shouldn’t have, but I did. And now my heart can’t handle it anymore and it quakes, and I begin to sob. “I’m sorry, Mom!”
“Sit down, Kenzie,” Mom says and sits, patting the cushion next to her.
I do as she says and take a seat. The room is still dark, and I sort of want to ask to turn the lights on, but I don’t.
“Is this about the Marcus boys?” she asks, repositioning to face me.
Of course it’s about the Marcus boys. Everything is about the Marcus boys lately. That’s where all my problems have come from. I mean not them, me, but still.
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Honey, you did what you had to. You told them the truth.” Mom puts a hand on my shoulder. “That’s never easy. You really liked Zachary, I think.”
Loved maybe. I want to correct her, but I’m still debating it.
Did I love him? I thought all I wanted was Hayden until I met Zachary.
I actually got to know Zachary, and there was something there that I couldn’t find in Hayden when he woke up, but it was only weeks.
Is that enough time to know you love someone?
That’s what has been running through my head ever since Thursday night. Do I? I mean, did I?
“I did,” I agree instead. “And now I think he hates me.”
“Do you know that?” Mom asks.
“I lied about dating his brother. I outed Hayden before he was ready.” That one really hurts.
I know how scary that can be and how personal a decision that is and should be, but I took that away from him.
“Then I pushed him away because I didn’t know what to do.
Even if Zach doesn’t hate me, there’s no way his mom and dad would allow it. ”
“That might be true, but you’re almost an adult.” Mom shakes her head in disbelief. “Mein Schatz is almost an adult. You never know what could happen though.”
I nod. Why is she giving me hope?
“Mackenzie,” Mom sighs my name. “It’s going to be okay. You’re young.”
“But I could have ruined Hayden’s life!” I burst. “Do you know how scary being outed is? I didn’t want to hurt him!”
“I know, honey.” She looks at me knowingly, probably remembering when I came home from school after being outed in eighth grade. “I know.”
“And Zachary! How could he like me after all of this?” I ask. “I lied about how I felt about him. I lied, again. I would be so angry if I were him.”
“And that’s okay. It’s not fun, but he has every right to be angry,” Mom agrees. You weren’t supposed to agree with that one. “But it doesn’t mean he’ll always be angry at you. You’re a kind person, Mackenzie. You care. A lot. And sometimes caring puts you in hard places.”
“That’s for sure,” I say. “I just feel awful. I’m angry at myself.”
“You’re going to have to let that go eventually,” Mom says. “It’s not easy, but I know you’ll manage. You’re mein Schatz, of course you will.”
I huff. I wish it felt that simple. I wish it was just a matter of time, but I think it’s more than that. I need to deserve it.
* * *
The scent of sage hangs in the air as I grind yellow yarrow blossoms into a fine blend with a handful of mugwort leaves.
I move the pestle clockwise around the bowl, mixing the two flowers together.
I try to focus on the rhythm, but a tear drops from my cheek into the bowl.
I hold back a sob and keep stirring. It’s a truth spell, and I can’t think of anything more truthful than a tear.
I considered a spell on Zachary to make him love me, but no, blot on magic and all, and obviously my love spell on Hayden didn’t go to plan either.
Probably also something to do with offending the order of things.
So instead, a truth spell on myself, something to help me accept reality and move forward.
If the past few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that as cliché as it may sound, truth is the best option.
It’s still so freaking hard to accept it.
Every time I think of Zachary it’s like a rusty dagger buries itself deep in my chest. The way I hurt him and his family.
The lies I told to stay close, get closer to them.
The way I ruined any chance I might have had with him.
Wanting to kiss him again. The warmth of his hand on my cheek while he looks in my eyes. Gods, those eyes.
Forgetting Zachary isn’t an option. Forgetting any of them is impossible.
No magic is going to do that. It’s just not how it works.
It only works that way in the movies, not real life, and even if it could, I’d be left with either chunks of memory missing or a bunch of blurry faces and weird moments “alone.” The thought of that is even more haunting.
“Calm, Kenzie,” I say to myself and wipe new tears from under my eyes.
Spells are powerful things, but they’re also fragile.
I’ve learned a lot about that lately, unfortunately.
My intent, the way I think about it, how I frame it, the way I feel in the moment, the vibes I send out into the universe to make it a reality mean everything.
One off thread can pollute the whole into something unintended and… well, problematic.
I look down at the words scrawled on a simple piece of paper.
I’m supposed to speak them while the flame eats away at the tall white chime candle set at the center of my altar with my mixture sprinkled around it.
I just have to focus. I stop grinding the mixture and take a long slow breath.
Then I sprinkle the blend clockwise around the base of the candle.
I reach for the pestle again and my mind wanders.
It always comes back to him, to Zachary.
What is he doing right now? Is he angry with me?
Did he actually feel the same or am I imagining it?
Oh my gods, did I imagine it? I’ve done it before. Why not this time?
There was Tanner Blackbourn my freshman year. He smiled at me once, and I thought he loved me. He didn’t. That was my first actual crush, but it ended when I saw Hayden. And now there is Zachary. Was Zachary. Not anymore. Gods, he has to hate me.
Focus, Kenzie. I sprinkle a little more yarrow and mugwort around the candle and pick up the lighter.
Breathe. But a quiet sob breaches my lips.
Focus on your spell. My tears don’t stop, but I ignite the lighter anyway.
I stare at the flickering yellow flame a second.
It dances above the wick, ready to spark a new flame, but I stop short of lighting it.
I suck my lips in and sigh. My nerves are on edge, and my chest is so heavy.
I need this, but I don’t know if I should.
No. Stop. Just stop, Kenzie. This is how you messed all this up in the first place.
I sigh and wipe my face—it seems like that’s all I’m doing tonight.
Crying. My chest is tight, like it’s retracting in on itself, squeezing my heart into oblivion.
It feels like it’s cracking under the pressure, wilted and black beneath all this chaos and pain, drowning me in my head.
It’s unbearable. I swear it’s going to drive me insane.
I need to forget. I need to go back to that person who fawned over an unreachable boy with no real hope of obtaining him.
The one who didn’t let it drag them across the coals and bite at their thoughts every waking minute.
It was normal. It was just a crush. That’s where I want to be again.
I don’t want to remember that moment they thought I was Hayden’s enbyfriend. I don’t want to remember the rest.
I release the lighter’s trigger, and the flame disappears as I shake my head.
This isn’t the time for a ritual. Not with the way I feel.
There’s no way on Odin’s green Earth my intentions would be pure now.
My grief, self-hatred, disgust—it’ll find a way to seep in and pollute it, and if that happens it’ll be a distorted and twisted version of my intent, just like all this was.
I lean back and let out a slow breath. Just slow down, Kenzie. Breathe.
My phone vibrates, and my eyes dart to the screen. I deflate a little. It’s Kaitlynn. She can wait. Actually right now, everyone can wait. Breathe.
I look up at the ceiling and close my eyes.
“Freyja.” I force my eyes open. A simple prayer will do. “Odin. Balder. Thor. Hodor. I need your help.”
But what do I ask for? Forgiveness? Clarity? Forgetfulness? Is it selfish to keep wanting to forget? Sometimes being selfish isn’t a bad thing, but when?
I sigh and make a decision. “I know forgiveness wasn’t really a common concept back in your time, but if one of you could find it in your plan to forgive my…
” I pause. My what? My intentions? My lies?
My deceit? My fear of losing all of them?
I swallow back the lump in my throat and wipe new tears from my face.
I have this. “My lies. Please forgive my lies and let me find peace in what’s left. ”