Chapter Four #3
She hid it well, but the queer, mixed race girl twin who’d never known her father, whose mother left her behind to live with her new husband, whose grandmother didn’t know quite what to do with her, longed to belong.
Even her twin, who she loved more than anyone, made her feel like an outsider.
Not intentionally; it was just that Jackson was all easy charm and inviting charisma, while she kept people at a distance.
For all her bright colours, bravery and bluster, underneath it all, Lydia was just as lost as I was.
We were two outsiders who never quite fit in, until my Becoming made me part of a magical tradition that, from Lydia’s perspective, I was refusing to share.
‘You do belong,’ I said, squeezing her hand tightly. ‘You don’t need magic to matter, not to me.’
‘But I want it,’ she whispered back. ‘Em, I want it so bad.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But your seventeenth is so soon and, from everything Catherine told me, if you had abilities, they would have manifested by now.’
‘Again with the unreliable narrator.’
She huffed and tossed her balled-up paper bag into the open mouth of my tote. ‘Just say you’ll help me. I’ll do all the research myself if you tell me where to look.’
And though I’d assured Jackson there was nothing I could do to connect Lydia to the blessing, there was a selfish part of me that wanted her to be my sister in magic. Against my better judgement, I nodded and her face brightened like the sun on a cloudy day.
‘I will,’ I said, guilty and relieved all at the same time. ‘I’ll check the books in Bell House again, and you keep digging for any information you can find on your ancestors. Anything could be helpful: family tree stuff, weird stories about the women in your family, that sort of thing.’
‘The only stories we have in my family are weird stories,’ she said with a snort. ‘I asked Virginia if she knew any good ones and she told me about a distant cousin of hers who ran away to join the circus. I thought that was just a thing people said, not something anyone would actually do.’
‘And you think she was a witch?’
Lydia shook her head.
‘Trapeze artist. Only she wasn’t so great at it – broke both her legs her first week on the road. Came crawling back to Savannah. Literally. Anyway, Virginia was a bust, but my mom gets in tomorrow. Maybe she’ll have some useful info.’
My head snapped around so sharply I felt a twinge in my neck. ‘Your mom is coming to town?’
Alexandra Powell wasn’t a witch but she definitely knew a thing or two about keeping secrets.
My father’s childhood best friend, Alex had been close to both my parents.
The matching lockets Lydia and I wore had once belonged to Alex and my mom.
She’d even managed to stay in touch with my dad during his self-imposed sixteen-year exile.
Ever since I found out how close our parents had been, I’d been pestering Lydia to introduce us, but Alex hadn’t been anywhere near Savannah in months, and their mother–daughter relationship wasn’t without its own complications.
‘Yeah, I know I told you,’ Lydia said, giving me a gentle kick. ‘Every year we go to Hilton Head for the last week of summer vacation. One of Virginia’s fancy friends loans us their fancy house. You said you’d come with, remember?’
‘I did?’ I replied. ‘When?’
‘Before or after you found out you were a witch, fell in love with a werewolf, almost got trapped in an underground crypt and had to fight your psycho grandmother, you mean?’
I nodded.
‘Somewhere in the middle,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Either way, you’re not leaving me with my mother, Jackson, Virginia and Jeremy, so don’t even think about trying to get out of it.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ I replied, parking that problem for future me.
‘So, this non-date of yours,’ Lydia said, changing the subject. ‘What are you wearing?’
‘The only formal dress I own is the one Catherine had made for my Becoming,’ I said, thinking about the gorgeous white gown that had been hanging in the back of my closet for the last four weeks, unworn. ‘Will that do?’
‘Way too dressy for a party like this. I suffered through one a couple of years ago. It’s more fun-formal-fancy than debutante-formal-fancy.’
My face flattened with confusion.
‘I literally have no idea what you just said.’
‘Don’t sweat it.’ She picked up her can of Coke, took a sip and smacked her lips together. ‘You can wear something of mine.’
‘You own fun-formal-fancy party dresses?’
‘I contain multitudes. Let’s go take a look.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, pulling myself to my feet and wrapping my arms around her in a hug. ‘You’re the best, you know that?’
‘Sure do,’ she replied with a grin. ‘But it’s nice to be reminded every now and then.’
I draped my arm around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around my waist as we walked and talked.
Not much had gone smoothly over the last few months, but as we strolled out of the cemetery and back up Abercorn in the direction of the Powell House, I was beyond grateful for her existence.
Lydia was the best friend I’d ever had and I would do everything in my power to protect her.