The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic

“Gone where? The afterlife? Mexico?”

“I honestly have no clue, Jake. Okay? He left. That’s it. That’s all I know.” The words came out hard. Harder than she’d intended. Even though it had been a year, she still hated talking about it. Hated not having answers. It made her feel out of control, and if there was one thing Sadie liked, it was having things sorted out.

“Damn,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Sade.”

“It’s fine—can’t you tell I’m over it?” She laughed with a bitter edge. “Anyway, Rock Creek, huh?” she changed the subject. “You going to buy it? I’ve always loved that house.”

“That’s because you love broken things,” he said in a pointed tone.

“They have a certain charm that everyone else overlooks. Or something like that.” Sadie laughed, but it came out a little strangled. The path narrowed, and Jake’s arm brushed against hers. She tried to ignore the way it sent sparks skittering across her skin.

They walked for another twenty minutes in silence until they came to a large pond and Sadie stopped, kicking off her shoes to let the earth seep into her.

The air was damp, and the crickets were louder here. She wished they were loud enough to drown out the sound of her beating heart. Her eyes trained on the lily pads, swaying sleepily on top of the water. Drifted to the brush along the shore and the blackberry bushes farther up. Remembered her and Seth spending hours picking berries and going home with purple tongues and pricked fingers and baskets nearly empty. If only she could let go of the past the way other people seemed able to. Maybe the future wouldn’t be quite so terrifying. But memories lived forever in Sadie. Indelible. The good and the bad.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Jake asked in wary voice, coming up behind her.

“What am I doing here?” she asked, avoiding his question. “What are we doing here?”

Jake sighed and placed his hands on her shoulders. Sadie stood still as starlight, letting herself revel in that small point of contact for a quiet, shining moment. It sent warmth all the way down her and pooled low in her stomach where it was on the verge of turning into longing.

“If you didn’t want to come, why’d you say yes?” he asked.

“When have I ever been able to say no to you?”

“Frequently, if I recall correctly.” His laugh was quiet and filled with memories. “Listen. I asked you to go on a walk with me because I need to tell you something.”

Her heart dipped.

“Someone just said that to me a few days ago, and I got some news I really didn’t want to hear. So, no thanks. Whatever it is, I’ll pass.”

“You can’t control everything, Sadie.” He sighed. “I learned that the hard way.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Sadie demanded, turning around to face him. Which, in retrospect, was a mistake she realized the moment she looked up into his eyes. She backed up a step, the silt chilling her feet.

Don’t be an idiot, Sadie, she reprimanded herself. You don’t want this. But the lie tasted bitter and sharp as white peppercorns. Just leave. She couldn’t seem to move her feet.

“What happened to the wild girl I used to know, huh?” he asked, taking a step forward as she took one back.

“My heart got broken two too many times,” she answered.

The water lapped at her heels and she closed her eyes, her breathing ragged. Sadie never minded having dirty feet, always going barefoot as often as possible, but only on dry land. There was something about murky water that terrified her. It was not seeing what lay underneath, not being able to control what her foot landed on. Not knowing what was brushing up against her.

“Maybe you just need a friend to help remind you how to live a little.” He took another step toward her and Sadie found her feet fully submerged in the water.

“Why are you doing this to me?” she demanded.

“Because I still love watching you unravel,” he answered in a low voice.

“You’re an ass,” she said, pushing him hard in the chest. He barely moved.

“You’re a control freak,” he said, gently pushing her back. Sadie stumbled and found herself calf deep in the water. A shudder tore through her body. There was probably all manner of horrifying things in that water. Fish that would love to feast on her toes and slimy, algae covered rocks.

“Come on,” he taunted. “I dare you to jump in.” He pulled his sweatshirt off, wadded it in a ball, and threw it back to dry land. His shirt went next. Sadie refused to look below his chin and her eyes strained with the effort.

“You’re out of your mind,” she breathed.

But she didn’t stop as he kept walking toward her, pushing her out further into the water. Out of her comfort zone. The way he always had. The hem of her dress skimmed the surface before submerging and clinging to her skin.

“Just breathe,” he told her, his voice calm and reassuring.

But it was a feat more easily commanded than accomplished. This new version of him, the slow, gentle, kind Jake, he would be her undoing.

“What was that?” Sadie squeaked as the surface of the water rippled not teen feet in front of her.

Jake laughed, turning around to inspect the spot she was pointing at. At that exact moment something brushed against Sadie’s calf. She screamed and jumped onto Jake’s back, scrambling for a hold on his neck as she wrapped her legs around his torso. Anything to get out of that water.

“What the …?” Jake choked out, still laughing.

“Something touched me!” she yelped, her hands tightening around his neck. His body was warm, and she thought maybe she should lay her cheek on his shoulder, just for a moment. How easy it would be to pretend to be her age. With normal worries. It was the first time in years she wondered just how much her magic had taken from her.

Jake felt around in the water and brought up a clump of weeds.

“You were lucky, it could’ve torn your leg off,” he said, his tone serious.

“Funny,” Sadie groaned. “Okay, I’m a big fat baby. You have permission to mock me forever. As long as you please take me back to shore.” The longer she was wrapped around him the more aware she was becoming of his body. Their closeness. Muscle memory was threatening to surface again, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could fight it. Or if she even wanted to.

“Oh, I could,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “But I think this will be much more entertaining.”

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed as he walked further out into the water. “Jacob Theodore McNealy,” she yelled, pounding on his chest. “Stop right this second!” He was waist deep and Sadie tried to shimmy higher up his body.

“Okay,” he said. And then, without warning, he jumped, falling back like a tree until they both dropped in the chilly water. The cold took her breath away and pricked at her skin.

“You,” Sadie spluttered, wiping water from her eyes, “are the absolute worst.” But she couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, wading back to the sand with Sadie still clinging to his back. His body was slick and glistening in the dying light. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Like there was something she was supposed to be doing with it. Something that had to do with the space of skin just below Jake’s ear.

She hopped down the second they were on the shore, her red wrap dress clinging to her body and dripping water. She shivered in the autumnal chill as Jake gently moved a strand of hair that was stuck to her cheek.

“Fun?” he asked.

“Fun,” she agreed, nodding with reluctance.

Her hands twitched by her side. If she’d been wearing her apron, she would have wiped them on it, twirled the string around her finger. As it was, her fingers itched to trail up his arms, along his shoulders, and thread themselves through his hair.

She took a step closer to him without meaning to. She wanted to reach out and touch him. Wanted to close the inches between them. Just to make sure he was real. That he’d actually come back.

“Sadie,” he said in a low voice.

Breanne Randall's books