Chapter 21 A LINE IN THE SAND #3
‘I didn’t bring any gauze,’ I said, trying to keep my tone light even though the anger between the two boys disturbed me.
‘Tampons?’
‘How about a menstrual cup?’
Lara dissolved into giggles.
Meanwhile, on the pitch, the brothers grew more aggressive with every play. I hadn’t heard as much grunting since the last time I dog-sat my neighbours’ British bulldog.
The ball shot back and forth up and down the pitch, each time moving with what felt like lightning speed.
I pitied the college kids playing alongside Finn and Noah, because it might as well have just been the two of them on the pitch.
That, and the other players might walk away with more than a few bruises from being whacked with the ball.
Or possibly pelted by rain and hail – for the clouds overhead were growing thicker by the minute.
They’d made it through two of the twelve-minute periods and were on to the final one. I was putting on a good show of taking notes, but let’s face it: there was way more at play here than a friendly game of beach soccer.
‘I knew beach soccer was a contact sport,’ muttered the girl in the striped romper to her friend, ‘but I didn’t know it was an eye-contact sport.’
I’d never been so grateful for the ability to hide behind a pair of enormous sunglasses.
‘Wow, they’re really serious about this kissing Molly business,’ said Lara, rubbing her hands together in glee. She shot me one of her evil looks. ‘We’re at one all. What if it’s a tie? How will you play that?’
‘Lara,’ I warned. My poor, hungover brain was not capable of such flights of fancy today.
‘Two Tuckers … hmm.’
Thankfully, Mom’s whistle shrilled, saving me from this hypothetical, which was much more Lara’s area of expertise than mine. The ball had flown out of bounds at such speed that the air seemed to glimmer with dots of silver and gold.
Finn scowled, kicking the sand. Caught in a hex, the sand sprayed up in a flickering sad face of sand and shell fragments. Overhead, the sky rumbled, although it hadn’t yet cracked open.
‘Countdown is on,’ said Lara, drumming her feet against her towel.
She was remarkably invested in the game, especially given that I was the one being used as a bonus prize.
And had to deliver 500 words about it by tomorrow.
At least I had a new appreciation for soccer jerseys. And those very short shorts.
Noah kicked off, sending the ball down the pitch with a crackle of magic. I’d never seen him publicly invoke his magic before – not on purpose at least. He must have been as anxious as I was.
Finn’s team members stepped aside, apparently deciding that they were no longer needed. Overhead, the sky roiled. Was that a hint of lightning?
My attention snapped back to the pitch as Finn dove for the ball, landing on his side as he tried to scoop it away from the goal. No luck. The ball flicked neatly past the goalie and into the net … then bounced back towards Finn, giving him a solid bop on the forehead.
Mom’s whistle blew, marking the end of the match.
Unused to prevailing against his younger brother, Noah grinned. He went over to help up the other, more sand-covered Tucker brother, but Finn was already scrambling to his feet. He was scowling – an expression I’d rarely seen on him before. It didn’t become him at all.
‘He used magic,’ Finn snapped, using a quick charm to dust the sand from his skin. ‘That’s against the rules.’
Mom tapped the whistle that hung from her neck. ‘Are you calling my refereeing into question?’
No one called Mom’s refereeing into question. In fact, no one called Mom into question. She was far too intimidating for that.
Finn opened his mouth to retort, but Lara, who had impeccable timing when it came to adding drama to an already dramatic situation, interrupted.
‘So are you going to kiss her, Noah?’ she called, hands cupped around her mouth. ‘Or are you choosing the cake?’
Finn’s hands clenched so hard they turned white.
Meanwhile, Noah looked stricken. He glanced around, realizing that the eyes of a few dozen people were all on him, waiting for him to make good on the bet that he and Finn had just fought over for a solid hour.
Waiting for him to kiss me, the hungover girl sitting awkwardly on a beach towel, trying to hide behind a giant pair of sunglasses and a notepad.
I stood, trying to ignore the lurch in my stomach. A lurch that could equally be from the look Noah was giving me as from my inability to know my limit when it came to cocktails.
The crowd whooped and cheered as Noah jogged over to me, then leaned forward, kissing me gently on the forehead. Then he stalked off, presumably back to the house.
‘Wow,’ said Lara, with a huff so dramatic her bangs fluffed around her face. ‘Talk about an anti-climax.’
But for me, it felt like anything but. Fizzing with the same heated magic as Josephine’s ring, I touched the spot on my forehead he’d kissed. Every part of me wanted to run after him, to beg for more.
But the skies chose that moment to break open. Hot summer rain pelted down, kicking up sand and drenching the trestle table and beach towels. Onlookers hid under beach umbrellas and beach towels, squealing as the rain battered at them, turning the sand wet and squelchy underfoot.
‘Quick! Let’s get all this under cover!’ Rosie shrieked, grabbing her pineapple upside-down cake to protect it. (Fair – it would’ve been the first thing I tried to save, too.)
Magic crackled as the witches and warlocks in the crowd tried to send up waterproof hexes to ward off the worst of the rain, but the spells ricocheted off each other, creating a weird patchwork of deluges and drizzle that were worse than the actual rain itself.
The non-magical spectators resorted to umbrellas, which actually seemed like the smarter move.
‘Molly,’ shouted Finn, as I tried to jam Josephine’s diary and my notepad into my purse to keep them dry. ‘Come here.’
He grabbed my hand, his fingers twining around me. As he did, my ring crackled – and I saw that another of the stones had turned dark.