Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before you judge me, please understand that I’d never drunk spiked faerie punch before.
But I did know that the side effects of the antidote weren’t great.
Specifically, the vomiting. And here’s the thing: vomiting in itself is not the issue.
It’s the crying. I always cry when I’m vomiting; have since I was a kid.
Which is probably too much information, but I just wanted it to be clear that I was sitting by my toilet bowl, crying, because my throat was aching from the vomiting, not because of the video of me that was circulating among my peers.
The video of me standing on the table, twirling around like a ballerina with two left feet, before promptly falling directly into Orion’s arms. All in front of Silas. And the rest of the school.
I mean, what’s there to cry about really? So, I’d humiliated myself. What’s new?
‘Maya?’ Mum’s concerned voice came from outside the door. ‘Are you OK?’
I sucked in a breath, trying hard to make sure my voice didn’t shake. ‘Yeah, I’m good. I just ate something bad yesterday and my stomach isn’t doing so good.’
Mum clucked loudly. ‘All right, sweetheart, I’m going to make you some mint tea before I go to soothe your stomach. In the meantime, maybe you shouldn’t do that extra studying shift with Silas today?’
Silas.
I slapped my hand against my forehead loudly. I had forgotten about our Sunday study session. How was I ever going to face him?
‘I’ll be fine, Mum,’ I said, scrambling to stand up again. My tears were drying against my cheeks, and my head still felt a bit woozy, but one glance at my watch told me I was going to be almost late if I didn’t leave soon. ‘You go, have a good day doing, you know, town stuff.’
Mum rapped her knuckles on the door. ‘OK, but make sure to call if you need anything.’
I made a noise of agreement.
‘All right, well, I’m off!’ Mum said, and finally retreated downstairs.
When the door slammed shut, I moved quicker than lightning. It was good to be distracted from the video, and the vomiting, by focusing on putting one jean leg on after the other. Rhythmic, routine things that made me go from a pile of mess on the bathroom floor to presentable.
It was all going fine until my gaze snagged at the ledge of my bay window. It had a scuff mark – a boot mark – of a very large foot. A guy’s foot.
I tried to rack my brain for memories of last night. They came back in bits and pieces: arguing with Orion about what happened that summer, telling him I liked him, telling him why I had cast that stupid spell in the first place.
And his response.
Cold realizations from last night were hitting me like snowballs to the face. I had misunderstood Orion that night. Taken his words as a rejection.
But it wasn’t all my fault. He had left me behind; walked away to go live a destiny he didn’t even want.
My hurt had coalesced into hate, and his fury towards me …
well, I didn’t know what it was any more.
It couldn’t matter though. Orion and I clearly weren’t meant to be.
It hadn’t worked then and it wouldn’t work now.
The urge to cry rolled through me again, but I glanced down at my watch – thirty minutes till I needed to be at Silas’s house. My musings were interrupted moments later when my doorbell went off.
‘Go away,’ I groaned to myself, and paused in the hopes that it was a parcel someone could just leave outside. But no, the doorbell went off again.
I rushed down the stairs, my bag on my shoulder, and saw mint tea cooling on the counter. Jinx was stretched out in a patch of sunlight.
‘Morning, Jinx,’ I said, quickly approaching the door.
Jinx barely lifted his head to look at me. He probably saw the video too and decided I wasn’t worth a morning acknowledgement.
I swung open the front door, feeling only a little breathless. But then, all the air was knocked out of my lungs. Because standing on my front porch was Silas.
The morning sunlight made the gold in his hair stand out and the blue of his eyes brighter. He was dressed in a white shirt, a letterman jacket and denim jeans. Tucked under his arm was something I couldn’t make out.
‘Hi,’ Silas said, like it was perfectly normal for him to be standing on my porch.
‘H-Hi,’ I stuttered out, clutching the door. ‘Wha … what are you doing here?’
I winced internally. That sounded harsh. Like I didn’t want him on my doorstep. Of course I did.
‘Yesterday, at the party,’ Silas began, and I closed my eyes as if it could stave off this conversation. ‘Hey, hey, no it’s totally fine, Maya!’
‘I am so sorry,’ I replied, looking at him once more. ‘I acted so stupidly, and I was so embarrassing. And Orion! Oh gosh, he was so rude to you –’
Silas waved off my explanation. ‘It’s fine.
Raven came back and found out that Everly and Trent paid the person who gave us our punch to spike your drink.
Raven promptly informed the school, and they’re both suspended by the way.
You won’t even have to see them on Monday morning.
And Orion –’ Some of the light in Silas’s eyes dimmed a little, replaced with that hint of steel I’d seen last night.
‘He was just acting in your best interest. And he got you home safe, right?’
I nodded quickly. ‘Yeah, yes, of course. Orion’s a stickler for rules.’
Or at least he used to be.
‘That’s good,’ Silas said, a tad awkwardly. ‘Well, I wanted to check in on you, make sure you got home safe. I didn’t want you to drag yourself to my place – we don’t need to study this week, really.’
Affection at his thoughtfulness thrummed through me, and I reminded myself what I intended to do last night.
‘I just feel bad,’ I replied, psyching myself up for what I was going to say next; the risk I was about to take. But the Fallen Leaves Festival was next week, and I was running out of time.
‘We …’ I coughed a little, feeling my cheeks go redder. ‘We didn’t even get to finish our conversation at the party.’
I braced myself for his laugh at my attempt at something, anything, really. But it didn’t come, because Silas wasn’t that kind of guy. Instead, his grin widened, and his hands found their way to his jacket pockets.
‘You’re right,’ Silas acknowledged, and tipped his head back like he was thinking before he came to a conclusion. ‘We should probably continue it, because I, personally, was enjoying myself. Though, most of it was me giving you compliments.’
‘My favourite types of conversations,’ I said, airily. I sounded like someone else. Someone different and more confident. Not bad different, just not me.
Silas grinned even wider. ‘Well, I’m happy to oblige. Want to go to Starshow Cinemas after school tomorrow to continue it? We’re due one out-of-school-hours hang-out that doesn’t end in one of us falling off a table.’
Usually I’d have my shift at the Treasure Trove, but Orion would understand, right? After all, this would help us lift the curse.
‘Yeah, that’d be great,’ I replied, smiling brightly.
‘Good,’ Silas said, and then took a step backwards. ‘I’ll text you the details. You rest up, Maya, and text me if you need anything, would you?’
I nodded and leaned against the door as I watched him walk away. I probably looked like my eyes had turned into cartoon hearts, and, OK, maybe the sigh that left my lips was a little excessive. But sue me; Silas’s display of kindness was enough to make me swoon.
RAVEN
I’m assuming you’re up now – we’re at the Treasure Trove if you want to meet us.
I was tempted to go back inside, crawl into my bed and pretend I didn’t need to come face to face with Orion. But hiding never served me well. Plus, at least at the Treasure Trove I could bake, and everything was less awful when surrounded by cake.
The bakery was buzzing when I arrived; there was a now-familiar line going down the street, filled with faeries, dragons, goblins, werewolves and vampires. I peeked at them through the kitchen doorway, where Melodie, Raven and Sofia were handling the bustling crowd.
Today, they were trying my new bake: foxfire eclaires. I still felt that clench of guilt in my stomach at what the Wishing Well must look like – a place I was now avoiding like the plague – but it was often overwhelmed by the delight I felt at people loving my creations.
‘Spying, Reverie?’
I jerked away from the door and spun around to face Orion. My apron was dappled with flour, and my fingers were all brightly orange. I looked like an entire mess, and Orion looked like … well … him.
He was spotless; his dragon-leather jacket crisp, his boots polished, jeans loose, dark-blue sweatshirt making the silver of his eyes stand out.
‘Not spying,’ I corrected, lightly. ‘Just, you know, looking.’
Orion’s mouth lifted slightly, making his eyes crinkle in the corners. ‘One day, you won’t have to peek, you know. You’ll be able to say you made those goods on your own.’
A warm flush climbed through my body. I never let myself dream out loud. I was so unused to someone praising my skills that I moved on to the thing that sat between us instead.
‘Thank you for last night. I saw – saw the video,’ I started, not wanting to dive into the whole confession I had blurted at him.
Orion didn’t even flinch, just held my gaze. ‘I was hardly going to let you fall, Reverie.’
Normally, I would’ve brushed off his words because they would’ve come with a teasing tone, or a needling edge. But something about the way he said them now felt weightier. Something had changed between us, and it made me feel all off-kilter.
‘And about what I said,’ I began, awkwardly twisting my orange-stained fingers. ‘Just forget it, please. It doesn’t matter any more. I am over it.’
Orion blinked. ‘You said that, yesterday.’
‘Yes,’ I enunciated slowly, because I didn’t want any tremor or crack to appear in my voice. ‘Those were feelings of a very emotional girl, who was super stupid –’
‘Hey,’ Orion chided, lightly. ‘That girl was my best friend for a summer. Watch your mouth.’