Chapter 35
Sabine
Ihuffed and puffed my way up the five-floor walk-up, refusing to question whether I was making a huge mistake.
The building wasn’t exactly what I expected.
The peeling paint, mysterious stains on the carpet, and smelly trash bags sitting in the hallway didn’t give off the swanky artist loft that Delia had bragged about in our texts and emails.
But I could look past all that if it meant a friendly face and soft place to land while I started this new adventure.
This was what I had been working toward since I’d been a kid. Where was the pride, the sense of achievement? Did I actually feel it, or was I just performing it? I couldn’t feel my magic as easily here, and everything felt fuzzy and disjointed, but I pushed my doubts away and knocked on the door.
On the third knock, a series of locks and bolts started clicking in rapid succession, and then Delia opened the door.
“Sabine!” she cheered, throwing her arms wide. “You made it!”
My smile stretched wider. I made it.
“Delia, hey!” I replied, wrapping her up in a hug.
Delia looked like she’d aged in the three years since I’d last seen her, but her smile was just as big as when she was my first-year camp counselor.
“Come in, come in,” she said, ushering me through the door. “Probably shouldn’t linger in the hallway too long.”
I looked behind us, furrowing my brow. “Why?”
“Just, you know, the neighbors are, uh . . . never mind.”
“Do you need a warding spell?” I asked, checking my bag. I didn’t bring that many supplies, but of all places in the world, surely I could still find them here?
“A warding spell?” She guffawed. “I thought you were trying to get away from the witchy way of life. Look at you, you’ve still got your camp shirt and hiking boots on.” She eyed me up and down. “I’m surprised you’re not wearing any of those cringey friendship bracelets.”
I chuckled awkwardly and frowned down at the tan lines on my wrist. The uneven edges of my tan perfectly fit the bracelet I’d taken off the last night of camp, the one I’d worn as a promise to Gwen: I’ll stay if you stay.
Maybe I should cover it with makeup until it faded.
Looking at it made everything hurt. We’d made a pact, but I’d broken it. So the reminder had to come off.
It was still tucked away in my duffel—a symbol of my broken promises.
“Your place looks ... great,” I said before I even looked around to take it in.
The apartment appeared like it had magically miniaturized between when the furniture had moved in and the walls had been built, like it had been shrink-wrapped to Delia’s hordes of stuff.
“Thanks for putting me up. I’ll have Iris send the rest of my stuff once she gets settled back in Maple Hollow.”
“Rest of your stuff?” Delia repeated, laughing like I was telling a good joke. “Like that would fit in your room. Here.” She pulled back the curtain concealing a closet that could barely fit a mattress on the floor. “I cleaned it up for you.”
“Oh,” I replied, trying not to seem surprised that this curtained-off floor mattress was the “room” she was charging me a crazy amount to rent. I shrugged it off. I’d been living in a cabin with other girls for two months. I could make this work. It was all part of the city experience. “Thanks.”
“I’ve got to go to my shift at the bar,” Delia said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Keys on the hook by the door if you want to go explore.”
The sound of two cars crashing into each other made me jolt. An onslaught of loud shouting and swearing echoed up through the window.
Delia smiled and took a deep breath of the air that smelled of trash and piss. “Ah, I love this place.” She beamed. “Welcome to New York City, Sabine. You’re going to love it.” And with that, she left, shouting, “Make sure to lock the door behind me!”
My shoulders drooped.
What now?
I turned in a circle, taking a deep breath. I was free. I was anonymous. No one was keeping tabs on me anymore. I could do anything, be anything. But instead of excited, I felt lonely.
No, this would be okay. It was just first-day jitters. It would be weird not to feel a little overwhelmed.
I took out my phone and started scrolling around a miniature map of the city. There were thousands of places I wanted to go, and plenty I wanted to see.
Another loud bang sounded outside, followed by dogs barking and someone screaming in either horror or ecstasy.
Goddess, I hoped ecstasy.
Delia would be back in a few hours, right? When did bars close in New York?
I decided to unpack and get settled. Then I’d be refreshed for when Delia got home and would inevitably take me to all her favorite spots. And I needed a shower and a nap if I was going to keep up with her.
If only that were true. Because not only was Delia’s apartment small and dated, but her water pressure was hardly more than a dribble, her fridge was empty, and her sink was full of dirty dishes that had a layer of mold growing over them.
But this was going to be fine. It just needed a little extra love. New York City was expensive, and since I couldn’t start looking for a job until Monday, I decided that I would help tidy up as a thank-you and a way to pass the time.
Then I was going to get a bagel with lox, then hunt down some red bean mochi and scout out all the food places I wanted to try.
I’d find a good thrift store and then get lost in the stacks of a bookshop and go see a free movie in the park.
And then see if maybe any fortune tellers were hiring on the side.
Tomorrow. Yep. I would do all of that tomorrow, and it would be amazing.
Today, I’d anxiety clean. That was all there was to do. Especially since Delia’s TV was more of a statement piece than entertainment. None of her streaming services were connected, and my social media was only another reminder of how alone I was.
Hours passed and when I’d run out of places to clean—and deli takeaway bags to stuff trash into—I collapsed onto the stained mattress on the floor and looked up at the cracked gray popcorn ceiling.
The emotions bubbled up instantly, filing my eyes with hot tears of disappointment because all of this—even the scariest parts—would’ve been fun if Gwen were here with me.
Instead, I was just crying at a strange ceiling, being hit with a sudden wave of knowledge that I couldn’t outrun missing her.
Mocking laughter echoed up from the street and I cried harder.
What had I done?