The Magnolia League

26





After school, Thaddeus takes me to Tybee Island in his old diesel Mercedes. There was a time when I would have lectured him about running his car on used corn oil, but right now I’m so happy just to be with him that it’s hard for me to think about anything else.

“It’s so pretty,” I say, looking at the river.

“It is. I love it out here. My family’s had this beach house for generations.”

“Oh, right,” I say, remembering my grandmother’s story of her long-ago trip to Tybee Island—the fateful afternoon when she saw her fiancé with another girl. “I think my grandmother and your grandmother used to come out here.”

“It’s crazy how far our families go back, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is.” I feel a pang as I think about the word family. I don’t even really have one anymore. “And yet you don’t really know me at all.”

“Well, I know you a little,” he says, throwing me a crooked smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

We drive down the causeway, which is hemmed in by marsh on both sides. The wetlands, with their yellows fading to green, are not as dazzling as the crashing waves and sharp cliffs of Mendocino, but I think I’m beginning to like this scenery almost better. It’s subtler, more welcoming somehow. I stare out the window, taking in the huge live oaks draped with moss and the fall colors of the marsh.

“I want to show you something,” Thaddeus says. He drives down a side road and stops in front of a stretch of marsh. We get out of the car, and he points to a lone tree.

“See it?”

I nod. The tree is decorated, roots to tip, with bright shoes, Easter grass, ribbon, and glass bottles.

“What is it?”

“That’s the Tree of Life. The locals decorate it. It’s a Gullah tradition.”

“Cool,” I say, unsure of what to reveal. How much does Thaddeus know?

Suddenly, a huge clap of thunder shakes the car. We both jump.

“Wow,” Thaddeus says, pointing to a black cloud looming to the west. “I didn’t see that coming.” Fat drops start hitting the windshield. “I was going to take you to the beach…. Well, we’ve come all this way. Want to at least see our beach house?”

I nod giddily. “Sure.”

“I should warn you: It’s a dinosaur of a place. No one goes there but me.”

“Sounds perfect.”

He drives past the tacky beach bars and the crab shacks. According to my grandmother, Tybee used to be the ultimate Southern classy beach resort, but “ruffians” have taken over. Not to be classist, but it sort of looks as though she’s right: The shore is clogged with bars sporting signs for beer and wet T-shirt contests, and stores selling bright beach toys and sunglasses. The far end of the shore is quieter. He drives us to a cluster of beach houses at the slightly wooded, peaceful area of the island and pulls up in front of an old, weathered bungalow with a wraparound screened porch that faces the ocean.

The rain is pouring down in sheets now. We run from the car to the house, screaming and laughing. He fishes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. When I look around, I love it instantly. The air smells like old books and sunscreen—sort of like the Main at the RC, minus the pot. We wander from room to room. Most of the furniture has been covered by white drop cloths, creating an effect of lazy ghosts lounging on the floor.

“We hardly come here anymore,” Thaddeus says. “We’re always in Hilton Head or downtown or whatever. But I’m glad it’s in the family.” We go back to the porch and look out at the beach. Suddenly I feel shy, even though we’ve been hanging out constantly.

“Sit with me,” he says, touching my waist. He takes my hand and leads me to an old wicker sofa. He’s dragged a blanket out of one of the closets, and together we huddle under it, legs and hips touching. He reaches over and plays with my talis bracelet. For a while we don’t say anything. I wish my mom could see me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.

“So, tell me about your life,” he finally says.

“Right.”

He presses into my arm. “No, seriously.”

I pause. Where to start? Growing up as a hippie? Life on a pot farm? Teen voodoo spells?

“You first,” I say.

“You know it all. I grew up in Savannah. My mom’s a Magnolia, my dad’s a rich doctor. We’re pretty normal. I like tennis and reading. And girls.” He grins, pulling a strand of my hair.

“Can I ask—” I hesitate. “Can I ask about you and Madison?”

He shifts away ever so slightly. “I was wondering when this would come up.”

“What happened?”

“I’ve always liked her. Even when we were little. I mean, she’s gorgeous, of course.”

I nod, trying not to appear as devastated as I feel.

“But we have nothing in common, so I never went there. Then something just… happened to me. Well, actually, I know what happened. She pulled a spell.”

I swallow. “So you know about those?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I live in a house filled with Magnolia women. They never told me, of course—they never tell anyone. But I read my sister’s diary.”

“Why didn’t you mention anything before?”

“I keep it on the DL that I know. And I can’t see that it hurts anyone, anyway. The Buzzards get dough, and the Magnolias get power or whatever. As long as they don’t screw with me. Because last year, they definitely did.” He rubs his neck. “Did Madison tell you?”

I shake my head.

“Well, I don’t know what she slipped me, but it made me completely… mad, really. It came on very suddenly. These spells are extremely powerful elements. I was unhealthily obsessed. I had dreams about her, and serious urges…. I was going out of my mind.”

“Right,” I say, my stomach curdling at the thought of Thaddeus obsessing over Madison.

“And then…” He stops.

“What?”

“Well, I sort of lost control of myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“One night she wouldn’t call me back. Playing hard to get, I guess. I wanted her so badly—I guess I was scary, or annoying. Something.”

I nod, thinking that I never played hard to get. Should I have been trickier?

“Anyway, I went to her house and was pretty much stalking her. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t help myself. She locked herself in that glass house and wouldn’t come out. But I could still see her. It was hurricane season, and a tropical storm was coming. There were all these warnings, but I couldn’t pull myself away.”

I don’t say anything. I just don’t know how to respond.

“I ended up getting pneumonia… even went to the hospital.”

I shake my head.

“And then it was the weirdest thing. It must have been the experience or the antibiotics or something. I had this really trippy dream about her, and then I just… wasn’t into her anymore.”

“Crush Killer,” I say. “Probably your sister.”

“Yeah, maybe. Or my mom or my grandmother. Who knows? That’s why I hate the magic. No one’s straight about anything. I got seriously jerked around. It was the worst feeling of my life.”

“Is that why you got so pissed about what happened at the party? With the fire?”

He nods. “Not that I even know how you did that.”

“You know what?” I grin. “I don’t either.”

“Look, Alex. I know it seems pretty cool, but if I were you, I’d steer clear of using the black magic.”

“Well,” I can’t help saying, “it seemed to work for Madison.”

He shakes his head. “But it didn’t. With those bullshit spells, you never know if someone really likes you for you. That wasn’t a real relationship. You know, we might have actually made it, Madison and I, if she had just let it happen naturally.”

I shrug, scared that if I say anything, I’ll reveal that this conversation is making me miserable. But he must sense that he’s gone too far, because he puts his arm around me. It feels strong around my waist. “The way you and I are letting it happen on our own. I mean, I know I like you. No potions needed.”

I nod, trying not to look as ecstatic as I feel. My elbow rests on his stomach. I concentrate on the rise and fall of his chest. His breath tickles my neck. He smells clean, like good soap.

“I love my sister,” Thaddeus continues, “but I don’t like the influence the whole Magnolia League thing has on her. You’re different. You had a whole life before this, and you’re your own person. But sometimes I worry about you too.”

“You do?”

“Sure. I can tell that you’ve started dressing differently since you’ve been hanging out with Hayes and Madison. You straightened your hair…. I get it. You want to fit in. Just be careful, Alex. I would hate to see you getting totally wrapped up in it.”

“I won’t,” I say. “I have other friends. Well, one other friend, anyway.”

“And promise me something.”

“What?”

He links his fingers with mine. “Never use a spell on me.”

“Of course.” How could he possibly think that I would?

“If you do, that’ll be the end. I seriously can’t let myself get into a mess like that again.”

“Absolutely,” I say, squeezing his arm.

“No, seriously. You might be tempted. Just… don’t.”

“I won’t, Thaddeus,” I say. “I promise.”

He looks at me, and then away. I’m struck for the thousandth time by how beautiful he is. How can I be so lucky?

“You should know something,” he says.

“What?” I ask blissfully.

“I lost my virginity to her,” he says. “Madison. So I’ll always… care about her.”

“Oh.” I look at the ocean. Wow. The hair on my arm is standing on end. They had sex. This is heavy news.

“But, Alex, it just didn’t feel natural. It was probably just the spell.”

Probably?

I swallow. “Does… this feel natural?” I curl my toes, waiting for his answer.

“I think so.” He elbows me. “What do you think?”

“Well, it’s more normal than any relationship I’ve ever had. But then again, I grew up on a communal pot farm.”

Thaddeus laughs, then suddenly turns serious. After a moment, he leans in and kisses me. Maybe it’s the rain, or the old house, or the way the place smells like a good, solid library, but this kiss blows all of the other ones out of the water. The storm outside gets louder. I can hear thunder out over the water. We kiss like that for a while, our tongues sort of getting to know each other. He’s got the best lips ever. I wonder whether mine are okay too. Do I have bad breath? Am I doing this right? I must be, because now he’s tipping me backward onto the sofa—not pushing me, the way Reggie would have, but just guiding me with his hands.

“Alex, is this all right?”

I nod. Slowly, his hands move up my shirt to my back. And then I turn into the crazy one. I can’t help myself. It’s like all of my pent-up teenage hormones are suddenly released to run rampant with this beautiful guy I totally like. I start kissing him all over—his neck, his chest. He kisses back, hard, and I loop my feet around his ankles.

I feel totally safe. See, Thaddeus isn’t like Reggie. He’s not pulling at my pants or anything. In fact, we have all our clothes on—even our shoes. Still, I’ve never been this excited. I hold on tight and press myself into him through my jeans. He breathes a little harder, and—oh my God, what am I doing?—I feel this awesome weird burst, and a wheel of color takes over my brain.

“Sorry!” I say, rolling over in horror. “Oh my God. I’m really sorry.”

I lie on my stomach and bury my face in the musty sofa cushion. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m so embarrassed. Will Thaddeus think I’m a freak?

“Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I say. “I’m just… sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Thaddeus starts laughing.

“What?” I ask, my face still covered.

“Alex, don’t panic. I was into it.”

“You were?”

“Of course,” he says, still smiling. “So the next time you call a book ‘orgasmic,’ I guess I can be sure you know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, crap.”

“You should see your face,” he says. “It’s totally glowing.”

I put my hand on my cheek. “I feel really stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s cute.”

“Well, yeah. It was… um… my first one.”

“Cool,” Thaddeus says, stroking my hair.

I’m seriously nervous to ask the next question. I know he’ll probably dump me or think I’m a prude. But, thinking of Reggie, I ask anyway.

“Hey… do you mind if we take this slow?” I look at him fearfully. “I know I went kind of nuts just then, but I’m new at all of this, and…”

“Of course.” He kisses my cheek. “That’s what I want too. Especially after last year.”

I sigh with relief. “You don’t think I’m a prude?”

“What?”

“There was this guy in California… he thought I was a tease. And he called me fat.”

“You’re not a tease. And you can Skype that guy and show him how awesome you look now. He’ll be sorry.”

The back of my neck prickles with fear. I’m only pretty to him because of the hoodoo tricks; this isn’t my real self at all. If he knew, would he dump me? And will I turn into a fat pumpkin at midnight?

Then Thaddeus kisses me again, and for now I try to push those thoughts to the back of my mind. Still, they’re there, along with my nagging jealousy of Madison. I know I’m the one with Thaddeus now and, really, that’s all that is important. But no matter how hard I try to put it out of my mind, I still find myself picturing Thaddeus—my boyfriend—camped under Madison’s window in the rain.