The Witch is Back

Chapter Eight




I had to admit, I was feeling pretty good after our first twitch session. It was clear that I’d won whatever magical battle had been going on between Brooklyn and me. And logically, I’d won the guy, too. Because regardless of what she was spouting off to everyone else, Asher was mine.

So why was I letting her get to me like this?

Truth was, I’d felt off in general since arriving at Brighton. I don’t know if it was the new surroundings or not being totally in charge, but something wasn’t right. And whenever my life felt out of my control, I turned to the only thing that seemed to help clear my cluttered mind.

Fashion.

We had fifteen minutes to kill before dinner, and I used it to sneak back to the room and play dress-up. It was one of my favorite things to do, and after the day I’d had, I needed it.

I fully believed that a great outfit could change any mood. A fabulous frock, a badass biker jacket—each look had the power to transform its wearer. Right now I was craving comfort. And that’s what fashion was for me. I loved it with a passion that was difficult to describe to others. I prided myself in knowing designers, paid attention to trends, and loved choosing looks for friends that would compliment their figures. A traffic-stopping outfit was like a breath of fresh air for me.

I pushed my key into the lock and let myself into our room, noting with relief that I was alone. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong or embarrassing, but it would be a heck of a lot easier to zone out if I didn’t have to talk or be sociable.

I wanted to be alone with my clothes.

Crossing the room, I vaulted easily over the circular couch and rubbed my hands together before placing them on the coffee table. I’d been itching to try the thing out since Colette had shown us what it did. The surface was cool and I could feel the vibrations from its magic penetrate my palms almost immediately. It was faint, like the buzz of a snack dispenser or fridge, but it was there.

“Fab Sugar,” I said out loud.

Immediately, the surface of the table began to grow hazy and then showed one of my favorite fashion websites. I began to use the table like a touch-screen phone and navigated my way through stories and galleries, looking for things to try on.

Once I’d found a few, I stood up and concentrated on the first outfit I’d pulled. It was a gold couture gown that a big-time actress had worn to a recent charity ball. Then, raising my hand above my head and moving it down my body like a scanner, I said the magic words.

“Alluvé magniosa.”

My shorts and top elongated into a floor-length gown. Elaborate and intricate designs covered the bodice, accentuating my upper half in all the right places. The bottom flared out, giving a little bit of room for my legs to move in.

It was stunning—and according to the site, it retailed for about fifteen thousand. Not exactly appropriate camp wear, but that wasn’t what this session was for anyway. This was more like window-shopping therapy.

And just because an outfit wasn’t right for today didn’t mean I couldn’t find somewhere to wear it in the future.

Next!

I bit my lip with glee as I tried on the next outfit. This one was even more outrageous than the last and as I admired the cuts and angles of the design, I felt myself begin to calm down. After about five minutes, I was fully relaxed and prepared to take on whatever came next.

But I’d need a fierce outfit to do it in.

With a surge of excitement that I hadn’t had all day, I chose my final outfit carefully. There was a lot to consider. I didn’t want to wear anything too fancy to dinner; we were in the middle of nowhere, after all. But just because we were surrounded by woods, it didn’t mean I had to rough it.

So I chose a sheer flowery dress that was short in the front and long in the back. As I walked, the fabric billowed behind me like a cape flapping in the wind. Conjuring a thin braided brown belt, I cinched the dress at the waist to break up the design. Another simple spell left my dark hair falling around my face in beachy waves. A swipe of a pale gloss across my lips and a pair of brown gladiator sandals later and I was heading out the door to meet the others.

The dining hall wasn’t actually attached to the main house. It was located in what appeared from the outside to be a small cottage about a hundred feet from the amphitheater. With rows of flowers adorning each side of the path leading up to the building, it looked more like someone’s grandmother’s house than a cafeteria. In fact, it was hard to believe that we’d all be able to fit into such a small space.


Of course, when I stepped through the doors, it quickly made sense. They’d obviously used the same perception spell they’d used on the main house, because inside, the place was huge. Round tables were set up around the room, each with plenty of space between the next so people could spread out. The lights were dimmed just enough to soften things.

As I continued to check out the space, Jasmine walked right past me without a backward glance, and headed straight to the food line. Shaking my head, I followed suit, picking up my own tray and stepping in line behind her, not realizing how hungry I was until I saw what they were serving.

“Mac and cheese!” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling like the day was looking up. Individual bowls of ooey-gooey pasta covered the counter and I scanned the group looking for the biggest one. “It’s a Brighton miracle.”

“Craving comfort food, are we?” Jasmine asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Don’t skinny girls like you hate carbs or something?”

“Everything in moderation,” I answered, not even bothering to be offended by her question. Happily, I’d never had to worry about my weight before. I was lucky to have great genes, and I’d always been active, both in self-defense and cheerleading. Throw in the occasional morning jogs with Dad and you had a body that could burn off just about anything.

“Lucky you,” Jasmine muttered. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or just being her usual “cheery” self. The truth was, our little black widow had nothing to worry about either. She had nice, muscular legs and a small waist. In fact, her boobs were the biggest things on her and nobody was going to complain about that.

I watched as Jasmine opted for the eggplant parmigiana and then picked up some kind of chocolaty volcano-looking contraption. Curious over what it was, I took one too, and then filled a glass with seltzer before heading out into the seating area.

“There are the others,” she said, nodding to a table in the back. Colette, Abby, Fallon, Sascha, and Jinx were already sitting down and eating.

As we walked, I scanned the room to see if Brooklyn was there. I felt like I needed to know where she was at all times so I could be better prepared for her next attack. So far, that’s what my interactions with her had felt like. Attacks.

When I didn’t see her or her posse, I sat down next to Abby and picked up my fork. It wasn’t lost on me that Asher hadn’t shown up yet either. I hoped it was just a coincidence.

I stabbed at my mac and cheese, forcing myself to tune in to what the others were talking about around the table.

“Did they make you guys show them your toughest spells too?” Sascha asked Fallon.

“Yeah,” he said between bites. “And I kicked serious magic butt.”

“I’m sure you did,” I said, trying to engage myself in the conversation.

“For real. I knew so much more than the other guys my age,” he said.

“Thanks to our boot camp last fall,” I said, bringing up the sessions we’d held leading up to our fight with the Parrishables.

“Thanks to me being awesome,” he answered with a smile. Colette giggled next to him and Abby tried to hide a smile before placing a forkful of food into her mouth. This made him grin even wider.

I ignored him. “How did Asher do?” I asked instead.

“Fine, I guess,” he said, sounding bored now that he wasn’t talking about himself. “I wasn’t in his group, though. He has these two other guys as roommates. I was with the guys I’m rooming with. Blew them out of the water, too.”

“Okay, we get, we get it. You’re the baddest witch here,” I said.

“You said it, I didn’t,” Fallon said, getting another laugh out of Colette.

“Had,” Jinx said suddenly. She’d been quiet up until then, sort of blending into the background and occasionally taking tiny bites of her food. A look at her plate showed that she’d barely eaten anything. I’d already devoured more than half of my plate and she’d been sitting there longer than I had. Either I was a human vacuum cleaner or Jinx had lost her appetite.

Jinx’s expression remained stony as she discreetly pointed in the direction to our right. My head swung around and focused on the front of the dining area, where Asher was now walking, his tray heaped full of food.

Keeping in step beside him was Brooklyn.

The two stared at each other intently as they spoke in hushed tones. Brooklyn pushed a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear as Asher leaned in to say something to her. He placed his hand on her back as they weaved through a group of kids who were heading back for seconds. My eyes narrowed as I watched them, and I let out a silent scream inside my head.

So much for my Zen attitude.

He said something else to Brooklyn and she smiled. I imagined them sharing a private moment. Asher’s eyes found mine then, and his hand dropped to his side limply. Rage slowly filled me as he broke off from her then and headed straight over to where we were sitting. Following behind him were two guys, carrying their own full trays.

I set my eyes on my food and concentrated on taking another bite, when in reality I’d lost my appetite. I couldn’t even enjoy the mac and cheese anymore. A shadow fell over me a few seconds later and then a seat scraped across the floor as Asher pulled it out next to me.

“Got room for three more?” he asked, his voice light and friendly. Like I hadn’t seen what had just happened. “Guys, these are my roommates, Hudson and Dane.”

“Hey,” we all said in response.

“Sher here says this is your first time at Brighton,” the guy that had been introduced as Hudson said, before digging into the feast in front of him.

Sher? Then it clicked. They were talking about Asher. We’d been at Brighton for like, a hot minute. How had they found time between classes and ex-girlfriend ogling to come up with nicknames for each other?

“Sher’s right,” Jasmine said sarcastically. Asher gave her a look that told her to play nice.

“This is my fourth year at Brighton,” Hudson said, like it was a badge of honor. “I practically grew up here.”

Grew was the operative word in Hudson’s case. The guy was about six feet tall and had a stocky athletic build to him. The chino shorts and polo shirt he was sporting made him look like your typical country-club jock. His dark hair was cut short—probably so it wouldn’t get in the way when he played sports—and showed off his caramel-colored eyes perfectly.

All in all, he was good-looking and seemed friendly enough.

“And what about you?” Sascha asked, turning her full attention to the other guy, Dane. She’d abandoned her food as soon as the boys sat down, and was now leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands.

Uh-oh. Someone’s looking boy-crazy again.

“Just two,” Dane answered. “My pad is far from here, so my folks wouldn’t let me come for years.”

Dane’s long, wavy blond hair fell into his face as he bent forward to take a bite, but he shook it away just before it landed in his food. Asher’s other roommate was similarly attractive, with wide blue-green eyes and strong cheekbones. Thinner than Hudson and dressed in khaki cargo shorts and a printed tee, he gave off a lazy surfer vibe. His looks, combined with a super-cute accent, would make him a hot commodity among the female campers.

If Sascha had her way, though, he’d be off the market soon.

“Wait, where are you from?” Sascha asked, mesmerized.


“Australia,” he responded.

“Told you chicks dig the accent,” Hudson said, shaking his head. “It’s not fair that the rest of us have to try so hard and all you have to do is talk.”

“Australia? That’s so exotic,” Sascha said. Dane looked at her funny, but then smiled again easily. “Do you have a pet kangaroo?”

“No one keeps those vermin as pets,” he said seriously. “’Roos are particularly vicious creatures. They can easily flatten a child with a single back-heel if you’re not careful.”

“No way,” Sascha said, her eyes growing wide. “But they’re so cute.” As she said it, she looked sad, like her dreams of one day owning a pet kangaroo had been dashed.

“Hey, Had,” Asher said quietly as Sascha continued to pepper Dane with questions about his life down under. “You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I said curtly. My brain was still burning with the image of Asher and Brooklyn walking into the dining hall together and I didn’t trust myself to say much more without blowing up.

So I looked around the room like I was really interested in all the decorations, when I was really just trying to avoid him. I could feel him staring at me though, and willed myself not to give in and face him.

“You sure?” he asked me again.

“It’s just . . . been a long day,” I said passive-aggressively. It was true. It felt like the longest day in my life and I was totally over it.

I suddenly felt the need to flee. If I stuck around, I was going to explode and I didn’t want to do it in front of the whole cafeteria. Standing up, I grabbed my now-empty tray and looked for the closest garbage. “I’m tired. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

I waved to the others and then walked as confidently, and quickly, as I could away from Asher. But after a few steps, I felt him come up on my right.

“Had, we agreed no more lies. What’s really wrong?” he said softly. I slowed down as I reached the garbage can and tossed out the remnants of my dinner. After taking a deep breath, I turned to face him.

“Okay, fine,” I said, feeling the anger rushing out of me in waves. “How’s your ex doing? It looked like you guys were having a pretty deep conversation.”

A look of surprise crossed Asher’s face before turning into a smile.

“Ahhh, so that’s what’s got you so worked up!” he said like he’d just cracked the Da Vinci Code.

“What are you talking about?” I said, annoyed by his smile.

Then he took my hand in his and kissed it softly. “You are so adorable when you’re jealous,” he said finally.

I narrowed my eyes at him before pulling my hand away and stalking off. He quickly caught up with me again, this time cutting in front of me and walking backward to keep me from getting away.

“Let me make something completely clear,” I said through clenched teeth. “I am not jealous. I don’t do jealous. In fact, I don’t have anything to be jealous of.”

As the words reached my ears, I realized they weren’t true, despite the fact I desperately wished they were. I’d always thought that girls with jealousy issues just had low self-esteem. But now I was seeing that it was more than that.

Jealousy is like PMS. It makes us crazy and there is no cure.

And apparently I wasn’t immune.

Asher nodded in concession, but didn’t look the least bit convinced. “You’re right. You have nothing to be jealous of,” he agreed, bending forward to try to kiss me.

But I wasn’t ready to let him kiss this away. I took a step back and his lips met air.

“I don’t like the way she acts around you. Or the fact that you guys are having secret conversations,” I said, turning and stalking back to the main house. “And I’m pretty sure she wants you back.”

I didn’t tell him that she’d said as much earlier.

“We aren’t having secret conversations, Hadley. And she doesn’t want me back. But we do have some things to clear up, and to do that, I’m gonna have to talk to her.”

My mouth dropped open as he admitted that he was planning to talk to Brooklyn again.

He saw the look on my face and started to explain. “Look, there’s some unfinished business between Brooklyn and me, and we both need closure. But that’s all it is: closure,” he said, grabbing onto my arm and forcing me to slow down.

“I thought that door was already closed,” I said, upset.

“It is,” he said, growing frustrated himself, and running a hand through his hair.

I hated that Brooklyn had once been privy to recognizing mannerisms like this. It made me sick to my stomach.

Asher put his hands on both of my shoulders and looked at me seriously. “I was wrong back then, and I have to make things right. I think it’s time you heard the truth about Brooklyn and me.”

Then he told me the whole story.