Chapter Two #2
‘I’m OK,’ I said, joining him on the step. ‘How about you? Lyds said you were at basketball camp?’
‘Finished up yesterday.’ He ruffled the loose curls on the top of his head then smoothed down the fade at the side, his subtly expensive cologne wafting my way. ‘Now I have two whole weeks of summer vacation to myself.’
‘Any big plans?’
‘Oh yeah,’ he said, lighting up with enthusiasm. ‘There’s a lecture at the historical society tonight, this guy who grew up here in the 1940s. Gonna be fire.’
I stared at him and he grinned back.
‘Seriously? You’re voluntarily going to the historical society? On purpose?’
‘Hey, dumb jocks can take an interest in history too. Sometimes a guy has layers.’
‘You’re not dumb,’ I corrected right away, nudging his knee with mine. ‘Even if you are a jock.’
‘Guilty as charged. For real though, it’s gonna be fascinating.
Mr Moore was involved with the civil rights movement, ran with W.W.
Law back in the day. Just think about all the changes he’s seen, the stories he must have.
Real history is way more interesting than those weird fairy books you and Lyds are so obsessed with. ’
‘Agree to disagree,’ I said archly, earning another laugh. ‘Wait, didn’t the meeting start already? Ashley left a while ago.’
Jackson shook his head. ‘Guest speakers don’t go on until seven, before that it’s all business and I really don’t care who wants to paint their front door an unauthorized shade of pink.’
‘Mr Ellison?’
‘Mr Ellison,’ he repeated with the same groan I’d heard from Ashley.
‘No, thank you, I just want to hear the good stuff. I reckon I’ve learned something new about my family every time I’ve been to one of these things.
Savannah is pretty fascinating, even if you aren’t the descendant of a centuries’ long line of all-powerful witches. ’
‘Technically, you are the descendant of a long line of all-powerful witches,’ I reminded him. ‘Only your line got cut.’
‘Thank God.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘Nothing against witches in general, but can you imagine Lydia with magic? No one would be safe.’
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I nodded. Once they’d been pulled into the Bell family mess, it hadn’t felt right to keep the truth about their own family from the Powells. Their ancestors had been witches, just like mine, but somewhere over the years, their connection to the blessing was lost.
Jackson rubbed a hand over the scruff on his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and he looked older than he did when he was clean-shaven, more rough around the edges. It suited him.
‘She’s obsessed, you know? Convinced you must have a way to bring it back.’
I did know. Lydia asked me about reviving her family’s lost magic at least once a day, every day.
‘My grandmother told me once the blessing is gone from a line, there’s no way to find it again,’ I said softly. ‘So don’t worry too much. Lyds won’t be levitating down your street any time soon. There’s nothing I can do to change that.’
‘Good.’
His eyes hardened and the word fell from his lips like a stone. I couldn’t blame him. After what he’d seen, after what Catherine had done, it made sense. Magic was dangerous and who would want to put someone they love in danger? Not Jackson. Not me.
‘Full moon tomorrow.’
I looked over at him, surprised.
‘No need to look so shocked, Em,’ he said, finding his easy smile again. ‘When you find out there are giant magical murder wolves masquerading as people twenty-seven days out of the month, keeping an eye on the lunar calendar seems like a pretty sensible thing to do.’
‘True,’ I admitted, more than a little uneasy at his definition of a Were. ‘You really do have a wild selection of hobbies.’
‘Basketball, local history, defence against the dark arts. Colleges like to see a diverse mix of extracurriculars.’
He hopped up to his feet, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his hands deep in his pockets. Discomfort rolled off him in waves and I prickled at the unease in his posture. What was this? I didn’t think it was humanly possible for Jackson to look this uncomfortable.
‘I should get going, this was only meant to be a quick detour on my way to the meeting,’ he said, poking at the step with the toe of his sneaker. ‘I wanted to ask if you might do me a favour.’
‘Of course, anything.’
His eyes lit up.
‘Oglethorpe Country Day has its annual varsity fundraiser tomorrow night – kind of a getting-ready-for-the-new-school-year thing? It’s basically a dance.
They have a band, a photobooth, killer food.
All my friends are going. We get to hang out while the school tries to screw our families for money. ’
‘Sounds … fun?’
The rising inflection at the end of my sentence was intentional. Did it sound fun? I wasn’t sure. Jackson stretched his arms up over his head and wrung his hands together as though he didn’t know quite what else to do with them.
‘So much fun,’ he said. ‘Only problem is, my date cancelled on me.’
‘Someone cancelled on you?’ I couldn’t believe it. If Lydia was to be believed, no one turned down a date with Jackson Powell. Well, there was one exception to the rule.
Me.
‘Want me to put a curse on them?’ I said, joking. ‘Pretty sure I’m not supposed to, but I’ll give it a go if you like.’
‘Are you sure you didn’t already? She texted me from the hospital: she has appendicitis. She’s OK but not in much of a dancing mood.’
‘You want me to try to heal her?’ I asked, not quite following. ‘Because if she’s in the hospital—’
‘No, Em,’ Jackson cut in. ‘I was thinking, if you’re not busy, if you wanted to, you could come to the dance with me.’
My eyes widened and a breeze rustled through the zinnias, their heads bobbing together as though they were debating this development.
‘Pretty sure you owe me a date,’ he added.
He was right. On my birthday, the two of us had sat in his car outside Bonaventure, Jackson doing his best to take my mind off the terror of what lay ahead, and me agreeing to a rain check even though I didn’t know whether I’d still be alive the next day.
‘A totally platonic date.’ He held his hands out in front of him, fingers splayed wide. ‘I’m not trying to step on anyone’s toes. Although, if we dance, I might have to take that back. Two left feet over here – don’t wear open-toe sandals.’
The look on his face was so genuine and so hopeful, when I opened my mouth to politely turn him down, nothing came out.
‘Where is it?’ I heard myself ask instead.
‘The DeSoto Hotel. If you hate it, you can totally ditch me and be home in under two minutes.’
‘Is Lydia going?’
Her brother pulled a sour face at the very thought.
‘When I asked if I should get her a ticket she said she’d rather poke out both her eyes with a rusty spoon. Lydia isn’t much for school spirit.’
Stifling a smile, I looked at my friend, kind, clever Jackson, picturing him in a suit instead of his late summer uniform of baggy shorts and basketball jersey, and me in the kind of pretty dress I most certainly did not own.
I’d never been to a high school dance. The last four weeks had been nothing but study and stress and waiting for Wyn.
I thought back to him, running around the lake, content and carefree.
Tomorrow was the full moon. If I stayed home, I’d spend the entire night worrying about him when there was no need.
He was safe with his family, with his pack.
Wyn wouldn’t want me alone and unhappy when I could be having fun with my friends.
‘I swear we’ll have a good time.’
The corners of Jackson’s mouth tilted upwards and I realized I didn’t want to say no. I wanted to go to the dance with him.
‘OK,’ I said, a flurry of excitement in my chest. ‘I’m in.’
‘Really?’ He sounded more surprised than I’d expected and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. ‘I mean, great! Uh, it’s semi-formal but you can pretty much wear whatever you like and, um, I’ll pick you up at seven?’
‘Seven it is,’ I said, watching as he dashed down the path and out the gate before I could change my mind. ‘See you then.’
‘Everything is going to be perfect, I already know it,’ he yelled over his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about a thing, we’ll have the best time, I promise.’
And for once in my life, I really wanted a prophecy to come true.