“Um,” said Harvey. “One of them was a guy? And why are you calling people we don’t know witches? I’m sure they were nice.”
“Right.” I sighed. “I was jealous and stupid. I thought and did jealous, stupid things. I’m sorry, Harvey. I didn’t think about you at all. I was caught up in worrying that everything would change after I turn sixteen. I know we aren’t official or anything, and I’m getting ahead of myself, but even if everything does change, I want us to keep seeing each other.”
He was silent. Maybe he was horrified. Surely he wasn’t horrified.
I risked a glance upward. He was clearly horrified.
“We aren’t official or anything?” he breathed.
“Um,” I said. “Look—”
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not my girlfriend? But I—I’ve been telling people you’re my girlfriend for a year! I told people at the face-painting stall that you were my girlfriend. I told my great-aunt Mildred you’re my girlfriend, and she lives in a nursing home in Florida and she asks after you every time she calls! Sabrina, I totally respect your choices, but if you didn’t want to be my girlfriend, I w-wish you’d mentioned it before now.”
Harvey’s voice caught in his throat.
“Wait,” I said.
“Do you want to see other people?” Harvey continued in ever more dismayed tones.
“No!” I exclaimed. “No. I want to be your girlfriend. Am I your girlfriend? Are you my boyfriend? Is that what’s going on?”
“I …” Harvey faltered. “I thought it was.”
“For a year. Why didn’t you ask me to be your girlfriend?”
“Why didn’t you ask me to be your boyfriend?” Harvey shot back. Then he softened as he always did, worried he would hurt someone with even the smallest of sharp comments. He ducked his head until he caught my eye, and when he did, the dismay melted from his face. “’Brina, I was too terrified to even ask you out! I ended up organizing a friendly trip to the movies, and then calling Roz and Susie and asking them not to come with. I’d tried to do it like ten times before.”
Now Harvey mentioned it, I realized he’d suggested going to the movies a lot around then. Like, every few days. Once to see a nature documentary. I’d gone every time. I hadn’t even questioned it. I’d just thought that he wanted us all to learn interesting facts about sea lions.
I’d only wanted to be with him.
Maybe what he was saying was true.
And maybe he was saying this because of the spell I’d done. I would never know.
“That’s good to hear,” I said numbly.
The tiny, encouraging smile was fading from his mouth, because I wasn’t smiling back. Harvey’s gaze searched my face.
“Wait a second,” he said, and threw down his schoolbag, and knelt in the long grass by the well. “You said you remembered this place.”
My eyes drifted to the river, the quiet, shining surface that hid a girl’s green coat, and another girl’s diamond ring, and the bones.
“Um, yes,” I said. “Vaguely.”
“I was so surprised when we found the well on our class trip,” Harvey told me. “I felt like it might be a sign. Like it might be—stop me if this sounds silly—a wishing well.”
“It doesn’t sound silly to me.”
Harvey’s fingers threaded through the grass, and loose earth, and stray stones. “I liked you so much, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I drew a picture of this place, and you said you liked the picture, so I gave it to you, and you said you’d keep it. I thought maybe at last, I’d find the courage to ask you out. I made a wish.”
Harvey stood in the tall grass by the little stone well, and then came back through the long grass to me. He offered his hand to me again, but this time he didn’t want me to hold it.
This time he was holding out an offering. There was a small gray stone in the hollow of his palm. Slowly, I reached out and took the stone.
It was worn by a year’s worth of time and rain, but I could still make out what was scratched on the smooth gray surface of the stone. My name, Sabrina, and beneath the name a swiftly scratched sketch of a rose. It couldn’t have been drawn by anyone but my romantic artist.
A year of time and rain. My name. His wish. The stone was like a nugget of gold in my hand.
Harvey gave me the same shy smile he’d given me ten years ago when I approached a strange boy on my first day of school.
“I tried to throw the stone in the wishing well, but I missed,” he confessed. “Tommy always told me I don’t have a great throwing arm. I chickened out on asking you out that day, and too many days after. I should’ve asked you to the movies and said it was a date, but I was too chicken for that as well. I never dreamed you would ever doubt how much I liked you. I was only worried you wouldn’t want me.”
I shook my head, my throat closing up, my vision shining with tears. I closed my fingers tight around the stone.
“A year ago you were my only wish,” Harvey whispered. “After our first kiss, I knew I didn’t ever want to kiss anyone else. After our first day of school, I went home and told my brother I was going to marry you.”
I blinked. Harvey bit his lip.
“Oh God, that’s weird, isn’t it? You think that’s weird. I’m so sorry. I was five. Please remember that I was five. Seriously, Sabrina, I know I’ve been acting bizarrely this past week. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was like—I wasn’t afraid of anything, and I could take all the risks I wanted to. It’s kind of fuzzy now. I guess it was a reaction to being worried about Tommy leaving, but I went way overboard. There’s no excuse.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “It was m—wait, you think you went overboard?”
He hadn’t said I was beautiful as the morning today, or yesterday. He’d called me ’Brina, the little pet name he hadn’t used when he was rhapsodizing about what a goddess I was. He hadn’t been embarrassed when he was singing the song or paying me excessive compliments or making the flower wreaths, but he’d apologized yesterday. He was embarrassed now.
I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know why, but I was sure of one thing. He wasn’t enchanted anymore.
“I know I did.” A deep flush ran along the tops of Harvey’s cheekbones. “The stuff I said, I mean, of course I think those things whenever I see you, but I know it’s over the top to say it, and it sounds ridiculous, and then there were the flowers, and then there was that awful song—I’m sure your family told you about the song—”
“They didn’t mention anything about a song,” I lied firmly. “I don’t know anything about a song.”
“Oh, good,” said Harvey. “Never mind the song. Please never ask me about it. I can’t believe I acted that way. And I can’t believe that you didn’t know how I feel about you, all because I was too scared to come out and say it. I’ll be different from now on. I’ll try really hard not to be chicken again.”
I came to a decision.
“I’ll try too,” I promised him. “I’m not going to doubt you again, and I’m not going to doubt myself either.”
Harvey gave a soft laugh. “You? You never seem afraid of anything.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said. “But I’ll try not to be afraid anymore.”
“Then I bet you’ll never be afraid again.”
I laughed too. “What would you bet?”
“I’d bet all I have on you. I’m not sure of much,” said Harvey. “I am sure of you. I always have been.”
I put the stone in my pocket and reached out both my hands for him. He clasped my hands in his, smiling down at me with exactly the same wonder he’d shown when he was enchanted, with the same wonder he’d felt all along. Now he was a little more shy, a little more hesitant, and it was so much better, because I knew it was real.
“Hey, Harvey,” I asked. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
Harvey laughed, and leaned down, and kissed me. “Yeah,” he murmured against my lips. “Yes. I really do.”
>
I felt his laughter ripple against my mouth, like a river, like a song. I clung to his jacket and stood on tiptoes to reach him, he leaned down to me, and the arch of our bodies was like the arch of the branches above. Harvey’s gaze was too often shadowed, but when he was happy, when he was looking at me as he was now, there were lights in his brownish hazel eyes that made them look golden as the leaves over our heads. I wondered why I’d ever dreaded the leaves turning, when gold was the color of victory, the color of bright, blazing joy.
One day, perhaps Harvey would tell me that he loved me, and I would know he meant it, and that it was real. One day, perhaps I could tell him I was a witch, like he had told me the secrets of his family, and he would believe me, and we would start on a new adventure together.
On our way to school, I walked through the woods beside my mortal boyfriend, wearing my red coat as a flag of defiance. A challenge from the half mortal, issued to every demon or spirit or witch hiding in the darkness, and to the unknown future.
Go on. Come and get me. You’re welcome to try.
Harvey’s brother picked us up and dropped me home in his truck.
“We’re changing to the winter shift next week,” Tommy warned as we scrambled into the truck. “No more getting chauffeured for you, nerd.”
“Nice while it lasted,” said Harvey. “Eyes on the road, driver.”
I smacked Harvey in the arm and he gave me a quick kiss, and behind the wheel Tommy laughed. We drove up the curving road to home with me tucked under Harvey’s arm, warm even though the wind had a bite of coming winter in it.
Ambrose was sitting on the porch railing in his red dressing gown and black jeans, looking at his laptop. He flipped the laptop closed as the truck pulled up, and grinned.
“Tommy. Harvey. Thanks for bringing Sabrina home. Auntie Hilda’s made her famous eyeball lasagna, cousin. You don’t want to miss that.”
I made a warning face.
“Hey, Ambrose.” Tommy grinned shyly back and leaned against the wheel. “It’s no problem. Your aunt’s what lasagna?”
“Aubergine lasagna,” Ambrose corrected himself hastily. “I said aubergine. Americans call aubergines eggplants, but that’s ridiculous. You don’t get eggs from plants. It’s, um … a vegetarian dish.” He nodded, smile growing unnervingly wide in his attempt to seem charmingly normal.
Harvey squinted at him. Tommy, a trusting soul, was still grinning as if he thought Ambrose was hilarious and harmless.
“Okay,” said Tommy indulgently. “I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“Delicious is a strong word,” I said. “But I like a family dinner. Bye, boyfriend.”
Harvey gave me a secret, delighted smile. “Bye, girlfriend.”
Ambrose made a gagging sound, but in an amused way. I scrambled out of the truck, and Ambrose leaped lightly down onto the porch steps to join me, laptop tucked under his arm.
Harvey and Tommy both had the same look in their eyes for a moment, Harvey’s grave and dark and Tommy’s sunny blue: almost wistful. I thought again that I wished I knew Tommy better, that our families could know each other better. I wished I could ask them both inside to share our family meal.
Aunt Zelda wasn’t good at acting like a mortal for long stretches of time. She definitely wouldn’t appreciate me inviting two mortals over for dinner without any notice.
Harvey climbed out of the truck and got in front with Tommy, and Tommy slung an arm around Harvey’s shoulders. They were okay, I told myself. They had each other. They were going home together.
I waved goodbye to both brothers and watched the cherry-red truck disappear around the curve of the road, under the golden leaves. Someday in the future, when I’d told Harvey the truth, perhaps I could invite them for dinner.
One day. Maybe.
Ambrose, whose default when dealing with mortals was to flirt with them or dismiss them or flirtatiously dismiss them, turned away without another glance. I hurried up the porch steps after him and into the house.
“Hey, could I have a word alone with you?”
Ambrose wiggled his eyebrows. “Sounds ominous. All right.”
He gestured to the split-level staircase that rose from our hall, the right and left sides of the stairs mirroring each other. We sat down side by side on the red-carpeted steps.
“The spell on Harvey,” I said. “It’s gone. I think it was gone yesterday.”
Ambrose made a humming sound. “Thought it might be. Honestly, I’m surprised it lasted this long. The spell breaks with true love’s kiss, you see. Very classic. Very traditional.”
The spell hadn’t broken when Harvey and I kissed on the Ferris wheel at the Last Day of Summer fair. Maybe I’d still been thinking too much about myself back then.
I remembered the day of thorns and roses, how I’d kissed Harvey’s hands, and then recalled Tommy kissing his brother’s hair. Maybe it had been me, and maybe it had been Tommy, saving his brother without even knowing, the way Ms. Wardwell saved people by the river. There were so many kinds of love.
“I see. And what was the last line of the spell?”
“Quos amor verus tenuit, tenebit,” recited Ambrose. “True love will hold on to those whom it has held. If he already loved you all along, then you’d know. If he didn’t … then you’d know that too. I was fairly confident he did, having seen him give you constant cow’s eyes for ten years. I thought it would be a happy surprise for you. I didn’t expect river demons. Nobody ever expects river demons.”
Tenebit, not tenebris. All along, the words had meant holding, not shadows. It had been my cousin trying to do something nice for me. Not in a normal, mortal way, but we were witches. Ambrose was who he was. I wouldn’t have wanted him to be any different.
Still, I wasn’t a child he could play with or indulge, not anymore. And I had to understand him, rather than idolize him or fear him. Now I was growing up, we had to understand each other, even if that was difficult because we were so different. We had to learn to be equals.
But still family. Always family.
“I was proud of you for tricking the demon with your little no-drowning spell,” Ambrose told me. “Where did you learn to be tricksy?”
“From the best,” I said, and watched the slow smile blossom on Ambrose’s face.
When I was a kid, I hadn’t worried about Ambrose not reaching out or holding on to me. I just went to him, grabbed hold of him, assumed I was welcome. I’d felt the same absolute confidence yesterday when I ran for home and safety. Yesterday when I was in trouble, all doubts had fallen away. Yesterday when I was in trouble, Ambrose had held on tight to me.
Today I slid my arm around Ambrose’s waist, and rested my cheek against his silk-clad shoulder.
“I’m sorry I was horrible before.”
“I was horrible too,” said Ambrose easily. “Witches sometimes are. Anyway, you were punished. Now you know the awful truth that the secret wish of Harvey’s heart is to serenade you with appalling love songs. I’m so sorry you had to find that out. I understand if you can never see him in the same way again.”
Of course I think those things whenever I see you.
Harvey had more or less said the influence of the spell on him had made him feel like he wasn’t afraid to tell me those things, or to take risks. It was strange and sweet to realize that when Harvey murmured a shy hey to me, or was quiet, or was chatting about comics and movies, he was secretly thinking that I was beautiful as the morning and he wanted to sing me songs and bedeck the world with flowers in my honor.
I didn’t need him to do any of that. It was enough to know he wanted to.
“I like that he sang me a song.”
Ambrose made a doubtful sound. “Maybe you’d feel differently if you actually heard what the song said. Want me to sing it to you? I can sing it to you right now.”
I headbutted him gently in the shoulder. “No, I’ll wait for Harvey to tell me how he feels himself. I’m glad he loves me. I really love him. I’ll tell hi
m that someday too.”
“I’ve heard love can overcome anything,” Ambrose remarked. “I suppose that includes tone deafness.”
I hit his arm. He cackled, my cousin, the wicked witch of any direction he could find. Maybe we wouldn’t be family in the same way if he wasn’t trapped here, but here he was. Even though he was trapped here, he could’ve ignored me or avoided me. Instead he’d opened his grimoire for me and taught me my first spells. When I was four, I would lift my hands up to him and he would laugh and pick me up and carry me around the house. When I was fourteen, he would laugh and talk to me about boys.
I’d grown up with dreams of home and my parents, but they were dreams. In all my true memories of home, he was there. I’d found myself doubting a lot recently, but there were some things I never doubted.
I took a deep breath. “Do you know what else I love?”
“Hairbands?” suggested Ambrose.
I burst out laughing, and understood anew why Ambrose laughed so much. Laughter threw a challenge at pain, and sometimes defeated it.
Ambrose laughed with me. “It is hairbands, isn’t it?”
“It’s you. I really love you.”
Ambrose stopped laughing. Silence followed my words, broken only by the faraway clatter of pans from the kitchen, and the murmur of my aunts’ voices, the creaks of old floorboards and doors complaining to themselves, and faintest of all, the noise of leaves rustling around our slanted rooftops. The sounds of home.
Soft as the light stealing through our stained glass windows, he said: “I love you back, Sabrina. With all my cold, fickle witch’s heart.”
My throat closed up so I couldn’t speak for a moment. I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder.
He hesitated. Even more quietly, he added: “When I let you down, I won’t mean to.”
The idea was ridiculous. I put both arms around his waist and squeezed. “You won’t let me down. I’m sure of it.”
I’d wanted to be sure Harvey loved me, and sure that my cousin loved me, as if that meant I’d stop having so many doubts about who I was and where my life was going. Perhaps everybody, witch and mortal, longs for love to make us whole and sure of ourselves. Until love comes, and we are still not whole, and we have to trust the people we chose with our broken selves, and love them with all our cracked hearts.
Season of the Witch Page 18
