Chapter 12
Gwen
Iwandered back toward my cabin in a blissfully dizzy saunter, my face turned up to the lush leaves of the trees lining the path.
The sun was still barely visible over the mountains in the distance, so I knew I wasn’t late for curfew, but I quickened my lazy pace anyway.
It was so peaceful here that I felt like I could roam for miles without seeing another human .
. . or monster, I supposed. That would take some time to get used to, I thought just as I barreled headfirst into Faith.
“Hey!” she said, the shadows dissipating from around her. “I was looking for you. Where have you been? I thought you might want to make some friendship bracelets with our Flower Moon cabin colors?” She eyed my wrist. “You only have two right now, and it’s kind of sad.”
I chuckled, the blush still cooling from my cheeks. “I thought I’d just go for a little solo walk after dinner.”
Faith’s eyes caught on something over my shoulder. I twisted back to see Sabine wandering toward her cabin with a giant smile on her face and my mouth curled.
“Solo walk, huh?” Faith asked.
“It started out solo . . .” I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “I wanted to, uh, appreciate the nature.”
“Mm-hmm, looks like you saw some beautiful scenery,” she jeered. “Is that why Sabine Stonewood is walking across camp with a post-orgasm glow?”
“She’s not!” I answered far too quickly. “We didn’t even kiss—”
“Aha!” Faith leaped up and down as she pointed an accusatory finger at me. “But you were together.”
“Faith,” I whined. “Please, don’t tell anyone.”
“I would never!” Faith grabbed me by the forearms and wobbled me back and forth. “But I’m your camp bestie. You have to tell me everything. It’s a witch rule.”
“It’s not a witch rule.” A warm feeling bloomed in my stomach.
“It’s an unwritten witch rule,” she countered. “Besties don’t keep secrets from each other, especially of the romantic kind.”
“Nothing happened, I swear,” I said defensively.
A little warm feeling bloomed in my stomach at the way she called me “bestie” though. I heard people call each other that all the time. It didn’t have to actually mean best friends . . . but no one had ever called me that before.
“Nothing happened,” Faith echoed in a mocking, robotic tone. “Then why do you look like a giddy schoolgirl? Which is saying something, especially when it comes to you.”
“I do not look like a giddy schoolgirl!” I gave her a playful shove. “She’s just helping me learn how to control my magic. I’m so behind and she offered to help me catch up.”
“I’ll bet she did.”
“Stop making everything sound like innuendo!”
“Are you going to tell me what happened to make you all blushy or not?”
“Yes, I’ll tell you. I just . . .” My excuses faded when I saw Sabine approach her cabin.
Waiting for her with her arms crossed and boobs pushed up to her chin was Astrid Cunningham. The arrogant witch’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Sabine and then all the way across the kickball field to where Faith and I stood.
My stomach plummeted.
“Uh-oh, Astrid is on to you,” Faith whispered. “That is not good.”
“There’s nothing to be on to me about. Nothing happened,” I hissed. “Sabine is just helping me with my magic.”
“Maybe you should find someone else to help you, Gwenny,” Faith said. “You’re already at the top of Astrid’s hit list, and getting any attention, even platonic, from Sabine is guaranteed to make her go nuclear.”
I watched Astrid flounce into the cabin after Sabine, chattering at her like an annoying gnat. I was pleased to see Sabine’s shoulders lift to her ears as she disappeared into the Harvest Moon cabin, clearly annoyed.
“Wait, why is Astrid in a first-year cabin?” I asked.
“From what I’ve heard, her family pulled some strings so she could be with her crush,” Faith said. “The Stonewoods and Cunninghams are powerful families. I’m sure they want her to explore that match.”
“What?” I gaped at the swinging door as it shut. My hands balled into fists at my sides. I couldn’t explain why it made my blood boil. The thought of the two of them sharing a cabin—even with eight other people in there—made me want to claw Astrid’s eyes out.
“Jealous?” Faith taunted, dancing around me.
“No,” I snapped, making my way toward our cabin.
“Bestie, you’re greener than that frog,” Faith said, and I followed her line of sight to a lone frog sitting beside us where Faith’s water bottle used to be.
“Dammit!”