75 Joey
Joey
Joey shoots off a text.
While she waits for a reply, she gathers up Elena’s old shoebox, planning to take it to her this morning.
She’s almost done sorting through her mother’s things too, the mess she’d strewn all over her living room floor yesterday.
There is some junk, to be sure, but she finds her mother’s favorite brown mug—a hideous thing that Joey cleaned and filled with hot coffee for her every morning—and a marble jewelry box that she dusts off and sets next to her bed.
There is also a framed photograph of her and her mom hiking together, taken when Joey was ten years old.
Joey smiles and tears up at the same time, which is very unlike her. It’s been a long week.
There’s a light knock on the front door.
She stands and brushes invisible debris from her pants. She licks her lips and swallows.
River stands there, looking sheepish, with his hopelessly adorable dog and a question in his eyes.
She invites them in and splashes water into Walter’s favorite mixing bowl.
“We’ll have to decide whose house we’re going to live in,” she says over her shoulder.
“I’m not going to just automatically move in with you. ”
He waits a long painful moment before doing anything at all, and Joey is sure she’s made a mistake. She’s misread where they are now. She broke something that she can’t mend, not with this meager gesture, this playful acceptance of an offer made days ago.
But then, he nods and holds in his eyes a mock seriousness, and she finds herself melting into a smile. Not just on her lips, but deep within her. Then it all comes to the surface. Relief and the hot sting of tears. She wants him, and for once, Joey is going to let herself have what she wants.
“We could let Walter decide,” he says. They look at the dog and the puddle forming underneath his dripping mouth. It’s the warmest Joey has ever felt.
After River leaves, with a promise to come back later, Joey puts what she loves of her mother’s things on a shelf for display and boxes everything else up to donate. She has plans to meet Sophie and Elena. They’re going to the spell circle to lay a ring of wildflowers for Quinn. Her favorite.
As she collects the stray scraps of paper, mail, and old receipts that have fallen to the floor, a folded-up note catches her eye.
On the front, written in a familiar hand, is her name.
She sits up straight, brushing aside an envelope and picking up the note.
It’s rigid between her fingers, and the edges don’t line up, as if it was folded in a rush.
And then she is thrust into a memory. She had such an amazing time with River that night, fifteen years ago, laughing and goofing around.
They kissed, and it was like something hummed to life inside her.
But the walk home was long, and Joey decided to shower immediately, as if she needed to wash it all off, to erase River’s smell and her shame.
And then her mom came into her room and told her that Quinn had come by after school, that she was looking for her, that she left a note.
Joey spent an hour tearing apart her room, whipping blankets around and throwing the contents out of dresser drawers.
She desperately wanted to find it because she thought, she hoped, that reading a note Quinn left would somehow absolve her.
She concluded, in the end, that her mother was wrong. There was no note. And no absolution.
But now, sitting on her faux wood floors, she knows this is it. Cal’s illusion spell, in all its omniscience, must have included this note, hiding it from Joey fifteen years ago. And now, the illusion spell has worn off. With steady hands, she unfolds it.
Joey,
I’m writing this from the desk in your room.
Your mom let me in. You didn’t come talk to me this afternoon, even though I asked you to, but I want you to know that it’s okay.
I’m not sure I would have come either. I’ve been really terrible to you—to all of you.
I’ve been lying and sneaking around behind your back and, I guess, getting myself into some really deep shit.
I came today because I needed your help, because I thought I couldn’t manage this on my own.
But I can. I got myself into it, I can get myself out.
Here’s what you should know:
The trees. They do speak. I spoke to them, asked them to show me the spells in the book, and they did.
They showed me everything we never knew was inside.
It’s not just a book, Joey. It’s a grimoire, filled with really old spells from other witches, generations of them.
And one of those spells is called bloodspell.
It’s why I’m in this mess. It’s a spell to take the magic out of a person, to steal it, by sacrificing them.
Murder. I don’t want to scare you, but that’s what I’m facing right now, because I told someone I shouldn’t have about the magic.
He knows about bloodspell. That’s why I have to disappear.
I’m borrowing your backpack and tent and camping gear.
Sorry! I know you’re probably going to freak out when you see this, but you can’t come after me.
You can’t. And you can’t tell anyone. Not yet.
Because he’s dangerous. I’m hoping me leaving will lure him away from this town and buy me some time.
I really fucked up. I’m so so so so sorry.
Oh! Also, on a lighter note before I forget.
Please be with River. You guys like each other.
I’m sorry I used him as a cover so I could keep lying and no one would question me.
I used him so you wouldn’t question me. But you saw straight through me, didn’t you?
You knew something was going on, and you tried to help, plenty of times.
I just didn’t want help. Not then. And now that I do, I don’t deserve it.
So, yeah, do us all a favor and just marry River and have his babies, okay?
You and Sophie and Elena are my best friends. I love you three so much. I’m really sorry to leave you with my mess, but I really really hope I’ll be back soon and everything will be just like it was before. Miss you already.
Love,
Quinn