Chapter 19 Love Spells
The door swung open with a flourish and frankly, with too much of it. Bess frowned at the old house as she tried to stop the door from slamming against the frame in its excitement.
The boy standing there looked up from where he had been staring at his shoes; expensive tennis shoes that an athlete would carefully pick out to wear when not on the field but still claiming their athleticism.
When his very clear blue eyes hit her, something dipped in her belly and a burst in her chest made her want to scream.
His smile was charming, either practiced or careless, used on all of the girls in her class.
Probably all of the girls above and below their class as well.
And he was standing here, on The Lost Souls porch with that overused smile and handsome face, looking at her.
"Jeremy," she said his name with a caution that she felt and had felt ever since he started showing up at her locker at summer school.
"Hey, Bess. I went to your uncle's place first but you weren't there so I thought I would try here. I know you spend a lot of time here." He looked around taking in the antique lanterns and the settled-in porch. "I like this. It's," he thought for a moment then landed on, "restful."
She frowned.
He had two dimples.
Of course.
Then she pulled in a breath to hold it in her lungs before she made a decision and let it out, stepping out onto the porch closing the door behind her, motioning for him to follow her to the black wicker seating set.
He's seventeen years old. And he's tall, still lanky in that high school way that promises his muscles will fill out once the years settle more firmly against him. When he sits across from her, there isn't an ounce of nervousness as he watches her and it's enough to remind her what is going on.
"Jeremy, this has to stop."
"What?"
"You, coming around, acting like you like me."
His frown accompanied by a smile created a handsome, confused look. "You don't think I'm being genuine?"
She sighed. "I think that you ate peach shortcake at the July Festival and then you ran into me and those shortcakes were hexed, not by me or anyone here," she added hastily as she waved to the house.
"And this," she then waved between him and her, "is not real.
It's a product of magic; nothing else." She shrugged and looked down at her shoes.
They were her favorite black boots paired with frayed jean shorts and a long-sleeved shirt that said, The Gulf of Mexico since 1672.
That handsome, confused look turned to one of placation. "Bess."
"You didn't even know my name before the festival!"
His dark eyebrows rose, disappearing under his messy hair but his smile was still there.
"Sure I did. I don't know you well, but you and I don't run in the same circles. So, I saw you at the festival, thought you were pretty, which you are, and now I want to get to know you." He shrugged. Like it was that simple.
And like she should accept it as that simple.
There was a part of her that wanted to. Jeremy Bracker, the most handsome guy in her class, had been finding her between classes whenever he got the chance since the festival - to talk to her, to ask if he could drive her home.
He slipped her a note that she found between chemistry and geometry asking for her phone number. Which she did not give him.
"How did you get my phone number?"
"Why haven't you answered my texts?"
She leaned forward. "How did you get my number?"
He matched her by leaning forward, his eyes not wavering from hers. "I'll answer you by text once you text me back." And then he smirked again.
He then stood abruptly, looking down at her and she sat there craning her neck to look up at the class's most popular football player.
"I don't believe in hexes, but I do believe in fate so running into you at the festival and noticing you and now being here, is what it is.
" He gave her that full smile that made her chest burst again and then he was walking across the porch and down the steps with his long legs before he turned and threw a smirk as he called, "Text me!
" Then he was driving off in his SUV down the wooded way.
"Dammit," she whispered.
Sulphur jumped onto the railing, flicking her tail and Lady Macbeth popped out from underneath, where she was sitting holding out a stolen brownie. She took the brownie absently, her mind wandering, going over that night at the festival.
It had been loud. The smells could be guessed with closed eyes, and knowing they were standing on the summer-hot pavement surrounded by booths and trucks of fried or quick foods.
Bess was taking a break from her booth to hang out with friends and as she was checking her phone, her left shoulder was run into causing her to nearly lose her footing and drop her phone.
"Sorry!"
After she righted herself, the shock of being run into bled away, she looked down to see someone bending over to grab her phone for her.
Déjà vu. Because the dark head bent to retrieve an item he made her drop was familiar.
"Thanks," she said. And then their hands touched. The warmth of the stranger's hand made her pulse jump and did something odd to her skin. Frowning, she looked up into the curious eyes of the guy who ran into her. And he was not a stranger. Jeremy Bracker.
And he was staring at her.
She wasn't sure he had ever looked at her before. They'd gone to the same school for years and had classes together. He had probably seen her in those classes by obligation, but this was different.
That pulse was going hard inside of her and she started to feel slightly panicked.
"What?" she snapped.
"I know you," he replied, his blue eyes looking over her face, searching for something.
She didn't like it. She felt like he was intruding on something personal, reading her diary, finding one of her secrets.
"We go to school together. And you seem to have picked up a hobby of running into me and knocking my things out of my hands."
His smile was quick. "I am great at picking hobbies."
She frowned. "Just, watch where you're going," she said as she stepped around him. But then he called out stopping her.
"Wait."
She turned. No words, just eyebrows raised.
"Do you want to go on the love tunnel boat ride with me?"
Bess's raised eyebrows quickly lowered into a look of scrutiny. Surely she hadn't heard his words correctly. "I'm sorry?"
"The boat ride," he repeated, pointing to his right and her left.
"It's cool. They light it up and pair you up with someone random if you don't have anyone to go with.
So you should go with me since you're my new hobby.
Wouldn't want you ending up with a stranger.
" When he smiled, it was bold and without hesitation.
It wasn't mocking and it was as if he knew she would say yes.
She looked around them slowly, the people walking past with their red white, and blue clothing, food in their hands, trying to see if she could spot a group of his friends who she would recognize, hiding smiling mouths behind hands before bursting into boyish and brutal laughter.
"I've got tickets."
Bess stared at him for another beat before she said, "And I've got to go find my friends."
"So that's a no?"
"It's a, what the hell?"
He smiled at that, taking a step closer, not deterred by her Bessness. He was tall, looking down at her like she was this curious creature that he was trying to figure out.
"What the hell?"
"Yeah. My phone is fine," she waved it at him. "Didn't break. You just barely ran into me. I'm fine. No need to take me on a romantic tunnel boat ride."
"I don't want to sit with you on a romantic boat ride out of penance."
She started walking away from him but paused. "Enjoy the tunnel of love with a stranger," she said with a smile.
"Wound! You wound me!"
She shook her head, sure she had dodged a malicious teenaged prank.
She continued on her way when she heard him call behind her, "You're only becoming more intriguing!"
She lifted a hand in the air and waved to him behind her as she walked on. She smiled, a furrowed brow and confused thoughts wandering through her mind.
And then when he had shown up at her locker Monday between first and second period with that wide, uninhibited smile, proud to have found where she kept her books, she'd felt overwhelmed with bubbling excitement.
He'd seen her for the first time, really seen her, and liked her. Maybe it hadn't been a prank after all.
Until the report came out about the peach shortcake at the festival. And she remembered seeing him holding one of the small brown bakery boxes in his hand. That bubbling excitement popped.
She felt foolish.
Jeremy Bracker did not like or want her. She was not intriguing to him. He was under a hex and she was his curse.
"The sunflowers are nice," Eloise said. Chocolate-cherry sunflowers had bloomed overnight, lining the back of the garden.
Eloise, Ursula, Tilly, and Kelsea were the only ones left, sipping mulled wine, letting the night gentle around them.
"Hi, honey," Portia called from a branch hanging over the fire pit.
Tilly sat up and pointed, looking around at the others. "Did you hear that?"
"Your crow call you honey? Yeah," Eloise said nonchalantly.
"Uh, how are you so chill about that? Can we understand animals now?" Tilly asked.
Ursula frowned and looked to Casper, who raised his white and grey eyebrows. When he opened his mouth, letting out a bark that was not translated by any of them, Ursula shrugged, and Eloise laughed.
"Crows are corvids. They can pick up words and phrases. Unfortunately, we do not have animal language magic. But that would be pretty cool." She snuggled Lady Macbeth closer, wrapping the navy and green plaid blanket around them both.
Kelsea smiled at them. "Lady would mostly talk about food."
"Shh," Eloise admonished, then nuzzled the raccoon's cheek. "She didn't mean it, sweetie."