Wild Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  “Okay. Well, you’re on your own there. I don’t know how she’s feeling about me at the moment.”

  “That’s fine. She seems comfortable around me. I think if I go over to offer my condolences I might be able to steal a few minutes with her.”

  People start moving toward the open door at the end of the hallway and Seth and I follow suit. Jodi and my mom are sitting toward the back and Seth and I settle down beside them.

  During the service, emotions swirl so quickly through my mind that it’s hard for me to follow what the funeral director is saying. Though she’s sitting a few chairs away from me, being here reminds me of the time when my mother was gone. I’m still afraid that if I blink, she’ll be gone again.

  Halfway through the service, Crystal Jamison lets out a wail and hurries from the room. My heart twists; when I did this in our other reality, it was Crystal who followed me outside and tried to comfort me. I shift in my seat, prepared to be the one to comfort her, but Seth beats me to it. I watch him leave the room, unsure whether this is the right time for him to corner her with questions about the crystal. Minutes tick by and I keep expecting Seth to reenter the room, but by the time the service is over, he still hasn’t returned. Mom and Jodi don’t exit the room right away, instead, taking time to offer condolences. People begin milling around, and though the volume isn’t extreme, it’s enough to make me feel hemmed in. I need to get out of here. I could just go outside—it’s unseasonably warm today, which might be Crystal and Lexie’s doing—but what I really want is to leave this place. Unfortunately, Jodi and my mom know too many people here and appear to be in no hurry to take off.

  Without looking, I turn and start for the door. I make it no more than a few steps before colliding with someone. “I’m sorry,” I say, keeping my eyes down. But the hands of the person I collided with remain on my upper arms and I look up to see who they belong to. My breath catches when I find myself looking into Owen’s clear blue eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, releasing me. “Do you think… Could we talk for a minute? Alone?”

  My skin prickles. “Alone?”

  He nods. “It’s… It’s kind of important.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, I agree. Owen reaches down and grabs my hand. Gasping, I allow him to pull me out of the room, past knots of tearful people, and down an empty hallway at the other side of the funeral home.

  By the time we come to a stop, his grip on my hand is painful. I extricate it, rubbing it against my upper thigh. “Okay, what’s going on? Yesterday you ignore me, now you’re desperate to talk?”

  He takes a step toward me, invading my space, his eyes clasped on mine. “What did you do to me?”

  I lean back. “What? Nothing.”

  “Yes, you did.” He presses a hand to his eyes. “I can’t explain it, but ever since we were at your house… I remember things.” He runs the hand through his hair, letting it come to a rest on the back of his neck. “I remember us.”

  My eyebrows draw together. “What about us? What? From back in seventh grade?”

  He shakes his head and points. “No. I remember… Seeing Planet of the Apes at the bookstore, and Tucker coming after you. I remember… kissing you on your front porch. We didn’t know each other in seventh grade. You moved here a month ago.” He squints, his eyes flitting over my face. “I’m not crazy—I knew it. You remember those things, too, don’t you?”

  My jaw drops and I gape. “How do you…?”

  He shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching. “At first… At first it was like remembering pieces of a dream, you know? All disconnected—nothing was making sense. It started on your porch. I… I could feel what it was like kissing you.”

  My heartbeat increases, thudding in my veins. “Owen…”

  “And then more things started popping into my head—like helping Mrs. Bates out in the courtyard—or dancing together at the harvest dance.” He releases a noisy breath. “Being psychic. And since I remembered that—remembered having a vision about Felix, remembered sitting at your dining room table while Jodi explained everything to us—it’s like someone flipped on switch in my head. On your birthday, I had this bad feeling about Felix—nothing specific—but then I find out he was in a fire. How did I sense that, Krissa? How do I know any of this?”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out. I don’t know how to answer him.

  “And why?” he continues. “Why did it happen two different ways?” He takes up my hands, squeezing them with gentle pressure.

  I press my lips together. I have to tell him, don’t I? If he’s remembering the other timeline, I have to tell him why things are different. I already told Felix, after all, and my reason for sharing with him was so much less pressing than the reason Owen wants to know. But as I open my mouth to begin explaining, my palms begin to tingle and I realize why Owen took my hands to begin with. I pull away from him, glaring. “What the hell, Owen! You can’t just reach into my head like that!”

  “You went back in time?” He murmurs it so quietly I’m not sure he realizes he said it out loud. He takes in a breath. “You weren’t even gonna tell me.”

  “Of course I wasn’t,” I snap.

  “But I deserved to know—”

  “If I told you right after it happened, you wouldn’t’ve listened to me. Or worse, if you did, you would’ve thought I was insane!” I pause, waiting for him to disagree, but he doesn’t.

  After a second, he averts his eyes. “You’re right. But I know now—and that’s what’s important.” He takes a step toward me, cupping the side of my face with his hand. He swoops down so quickly I don’t have time to do anything but react when his lips touch mine. It’s what I’ve longed for since before the time-travel spell, and for a moment, I kiss back. But then warning bells and sirens sound in my head—I can’t kiss him, not now. I have to figure out what’s happening, and I can’t let my desire to kiss him get in the way. Placing my hands on his chest, I push him away. His blue eyes are confused. “What’s wrong?”

  “Owen, stop. We have to figure this out.”

  His lips curl in a smile. “Figure what out? I feel like everything’s finally making sense. Now that I remember, we can be together.” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I want this, Krissa. Don’t you?”

  My hands go to the sides of his face and I fight the urge to pull his lips to mine. I do want this. “What if it goes away?” Just saying the words makes my stomach clench. “I have no idea why you remember these things. What if you start forgetting them and you go back to the Owen you were a week ago? What if you wake up tomorrow and go back to hating me? I couldn’t handle that.” My eyes fill and when I blink, two tears stream down my cheeks.

  “Hey.” Owen catches the droplets with his fingers, wiping them away. “That won’t happen. Even if I forget these memories, I won’t go back to hating you. Remember at the coffee shop? We were getting along just fine—and that was before I started remembering this other life. I could never get over you, Krissa, and now I know why. We’re supposed to be together.” He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. As I kiss him back, my heart swells. He’s right. We’re right. But if that’s true, why is my stomach so unsettled?

  I push him back gently, breaking our kiss. “Owen, stop. We can’t—not right now.”

  He nods, glancing at the surrounding hallway. “Yeah, I guess a funeral’s not really the right atmosphere.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not that. It’s… complicated.”

  His expression clouds and his eyebrows scrunch. “It’s Fox, isn’t it? But…” He squints like he’s trying hard to recall something. “You two aren’t together, right? You… were… but you broke up?”

  I grip his shoulders, peering into his eyes. “That happened last week. Don’t you remember?”

  He blinks heavily, the corners of his mouth quirking upward. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I remember.”

  But I can tell he’s not convinced. I slide my fingers to his chee
ks and use the contact point to push into his thoughts. His mind is a confused jumble and I reel back from it. “Owen—what’s happening to you?”

  A muscle in his jaw jumps and he can’t quite force a smile. “Since that day on your porch… Since I started remembering the other life… It’s like there’s not enough room in my head for both. The more I can remember from the other reality, the more this one slips away.”

  I step backward, dropping my hands. “You’re forgetting your life?”

  He shakes his head, reaching for me. “No, Krissa—I’m remembering it.”

  I turn, running my hand through my hair. How is this happening? This isn’t my Owen, yet now, somehow, he’s remembering a life he didn’t live. I wanted this, I wanted him to be the person I was falling for. Is it possible I’m somehow doing this to him? Am I casting a spell or using my psychic ability without knowing it? I take stock of my powers, my energy, but I can’t identify anything within me that could be causing this. But if it’s not me, what could be doing it?

  Owen’s hand grazes my shoulder. “Krissa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you weren’t exactly happy about this.”

  I bite my lower lip, turning but not meeting his gaze. How can I explain that I am happy about this—but I’m also terrified because I don’t know what’s causing it, or how long it will last? “Maybe we should take things slow. Make sure you don’t have any… complications.”

  His eyes darken. “Take it slow? No. That’s what I was doing before and then suddenly I’m living a different life. Look, I know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me. I don’t see why we can’t just pick up where we left off.”

  My heart twists. There’s nothing I want more than that, but still there’s hesitation within me. The memories flooding Owen’s mind are turning him into the guy I knew a month ago, but I’m not the same girl I was then. The last few weeks have changed me, but have they changed my heart, too? When Fox came to my house the other night, I had the opportunity to make a clean break, but I didn’t take it. In the days immediately following the time-travel spell, I would have jumped at the chance to sever ties with Fox; that I didn’t when he gave me the option speaks volumes.

  Owen stiffens, his shoulders drawing backward. “Oh. I see.”

  Panic flares. Has he been scanning my thoughts? “It’s not what you think.”

  He snorts. “It’s not what I think? When I kissed you on Jodi’s porch, you remember the last thing I said to you?”

  “Owen—”

  “I told you not to change your mind. And you smiled and said ‘no way,’ like it wasn’t even a possibility. But here we are a couple weeks later—”

  “A couple weeks?” I laugh. “A couple weeks? Owen, this is an entirely different reality! One where you, until a few days ago, didn’t want anything to do with me. So stop acting like I betrayed you or something, because I haven’t.”

  “Then why does it feel like you have?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but Owen doesn’t give me the chance. He pivots and stalks down the hallway, back to the main corridor. I take off after him but slow as the buzzing of voices grows louder. What could I say? I don’t even know how to explain my swirling emotions to myself. I want to be with him, but I can’t pretend I haven’t developed feelings for Fox—I’m just not sure what those feelings mean. I need to sort everything out before I can make a decision. I don’t want to hurt either of them.

  By the time I make it to the main hall, Owen has disappeared into the crowd. In addition to the people milling about the main hallway, there are several groups heading toward their cars. An official-looking man in a black suit is directing people inside; the procession must be about to begin. I scan the crowd for my mom and Jodi but don’t see either of them. I pull my phone from my back pocket. There’s a text from my mom from a minute ago saying she and Jodi are at the car and will be leaving in five minutes, with or without me.

  Just outside the main door stands Owen, distractedly listening as one of his track buddies chats at him. I start for him, but before I’ve taken more than a couple of steps, someone hooks me by my elbow, urging me to a stop. Fox’s stormy eyes fix on me when I turn.

  “Hey, there you are. I was wondering if you might wanna go grab a bite.” The corner of his mouth upturns in a boyish half-smile.

  Owen’s gaze prickles the back of my neck and I can’t help turning.

  Fox looks, too. “Why’s Owen staring at you like that?”

  “Like what?” I ask, too quickly.

  His expression clouds as he presses his lips into a tight line. “Like he’s jealous.” He blows out a breath. “That’s why you didn’t want to get back together, isn’t it?”

  Heat floods my cheeks, even though his suspicion isn’t correct. I want to tell him he’s wrong, but my groping mind can’t come up with a plausible reason for Owen to look so upset right now. I can’t exactly tell Fox the truth.

  Fox takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me the other night. I gave you the out, but you didn’t take it. What, are you just stringing me along in case things don’t work out with him?”

  “No.” I take a step toward him, reaching out my hand. “It’s not what you think. What I said the other night—it’s true. I don’t know what I want or how I’m feeling about any of this. But I don’t want to hurt you. Even if we’re not together, I want us to be—”

  “Don’t tell me you want to be friends.” He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it before opening them again. “After what we had, I can’t be just your friend.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes. After a beat, Fox turns, heading off into the parking lot. I start to follow when my cell vibrates. It’s my mom again, informing me the engine is running. Cursing, I head into the parking lot.

  I haven’t gone far when someone catches my eye. Crystal Jamison stands around the side of the building, propped up against the sandy bricks, looking a little disoriented. Seth is nowhere in sight. I start toward her, hesitating only briefly when I consider what her reaction to me might be.

  “Crystal?” I ask as I approach.

  Her movements are slow, like she’s in water. Her mouth twitches when her eyes land on me. “Krissa. Hey.”

  I tense. I expected her to be a little more hostile toward me, based on the look she gave me earlier. Maybe grief has taken away her venom. “You okay? You seem a little out of it.”

  She presses her lips together, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “I just… Need a minute.”

  I nod. There’s something off about her, but I can’t place what. I consider reaching out with my abilities to scan her, but out of the corner of my eye, I see Bridget approaching. Not wanting to deal with her, I jog toward my mom’s car. Crystal will be fine—Bridget will get her.

  Is this another side effect of the crystal or something else entirely? As I pull open the car door and slide into my seat, I make a mental note to check with Seth to see if she was weird when they were talking.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When we finally arrive home, Felix’s car is parked out front. My heart swells and my eyes prickle. I jump out of my mom’s Cruze and run to him, almost knocking him over with the force of my hug.

  He pats my back a few times. “I had a feeling you’d be happy to see me.”

  I pull away, studying his face. “I really, really am. I need to talk.”

  Once Felix and I are settled in my bedroom, I explain what happened with Owen at the funeral. By the time I’m done, Felix is rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefingers.

  “Is it because he’s psychic?” he asks after a beat.

  “Is what because he’s psychic?”

  He waves his hand in the air, wiggling his fingers. “You know, this whole mind-meld thing you two have going on. You guys had a pretty intense history. Couple that with psychic stuff and, bam!” He claps his hands for emphasis.

  I shrug.
“Maybe?”

  “Does he know about the rest of us?”

  “No. You guys weren’t psychic in the other timeline—or at least you didn’t know you were.”

  Felix purses his lips. “You know what I’m gonna say, don’t you?”

  I sigh. “You want to tell him.”

  “He deserves to know. He should be a part of our group—learn to use his abilities. And before you start about how tense and awkward that’ll be, let me remind you of your first meeting with us.” He reaches forward, giving my hand a brief squeeze. “Maybe he won’t want to—if things are really that bad between the two of you. But maybe he’ll be able to put it aside—and let’s face it, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  He’s right, and I know he is. Before I can do more than nod in agreement, my phone buzzes. “It’s Seth,” I say as I pick it up. “He wants all the psychics to meet at his apartment.” My heartbeat kicks up a notch as I read the next part. “He thinks he knows how to separate the circle from the crystal.”

  Felix rubs his hands together, grinning. “Awesome. Hey—I’ll drop you by there.”

  I squint. “Drop me? You’re coming too, right?”

  He stands, heading toward the stairs. “He said all of us.”

  My stomach sinks as I follow. “You really think now’s the time to tell Owen?”

  “No time like the present. I mean, who knows when someone’s gonna travel back in time and mess everything up?”

  ***

  Felix drops me off on Main and I circle around the bookstore. There’s a metal staircase leading up to a plain white door. Seth pokes his head out as soon as my foot touches the bottom step, and I take them two at a time until I’m in his apartment.

  The space is small but open. A small kitchen is directly to the left and straight ahead is a bank of windows overlooking Main Street. Two folding chairs and a rickety card table covered in haphazard stacks of paper are shoved against the right wall, but that’s all there is in the way of furniture. Several paper bags piled in the far left corner is the room’s only other adornment.