Underneath

by Sarah Jamila Stevenson

  I hesitate outside for a moment. Mikaela turns back and puts her arm through mine.

  “No need to be shy. I’m sure they’re perfectly nice people. Even if they are friends with Cody,” she says with a smirk. “Besides, you never know. You might actually like them.”

  “Have you even met them?”

  She gives me a worried look. “No, but … give it a chance, huh? Cody’s going to be there. I’m sure he’s already here.”

  “Okay, okay.” I slip through the door as she holds it open. A sign in elaborate loopy handwriting, taped to the glass, says “If you are here for our special event, proceed to the Gathering Room.” The shop is empty, but I can hear voices wafting from an open door at the back.

  “Must be where the party is,” Mikaela says, gesturing toward the rear of the shop. “After you.”

  I start walking, see who’s standing behind the counter, and stop dead. I can’t believe I forgot this crucial piece of information.

  “Oh, shit,” I mutter. “Antonia.”

  “Huh?” Mikaela is distracted, fingering a crystal of smoky quartz. “Who’s that?”

  “She’s friends with my mom,” I whisper. “She works here. I totally forgot.” I try to duck behind a shelf and sneak by.

  It doesn’t work.

  “Sunshine! Well, look who it is! Are you here for the solstice? I never knew you were interested in witchcraft! Have you heard about our Mother Goddess Group?” She has a huge smile on her face, and, oh god, she’s wearing glitter eyeshadow.

  “Hi, Antonia,” I mutter. I have to get out of here. I don’t know what a Mother Goddess Group is and I don’t want to. There’s glitter all over her red hair, too, and she’s wearing a silver sweater that clings too tightly to her ample bosom.

  “We’re just here because a friend invited us,” I say, trying to cross the room as quickly as possible.

  “Well, it’s a lively little group; you’ll love it. I have to mind the store during the party, but you go right on in! Have a glass of champagne—I promise not to tell your mom!” She winks at me. Mikaela gives me this cross-eyed look and I almost lose it, so I grab her arm and we flee for the back room.

  We stop in the doorway. About twenty people are standing in little groups around the room, and they’re all staring at us like we have horns. Or maybe like we don’t have horns—who knows what these people are into. Most of them are older than we are, in their twenties or thirties. The walls are painted an unnerving orangey-red color, with posters of nature and diagrams of people’s chakras. I recognize one of the chakra diagrams from my mom’s weekend yoga sessions. Thick white candles are burning here and there throughout the room.

  I feel like I’m having a very surreal dream.

  There’s a folding table against the wall to our left, laden with chips, vegetables, and store-bought iced Christmas cookies. Mikaela heads straight for the food, ignoring a few lingering stares. Her eyebrows are mildly raised as if she’s the one in charge, as if everyone else is beneath her notice. I envy her for that; I feel like diving under the table.

  Then Cody saunters in.

  “Sunny, Mikaela. Hey,” he says casually, as if this is all completely normal.

  “Hi,” I say. He flashes a sly smile in my direction and I get a not-unpleasant lurch in the pit of my stomach. Still, I’m not sure what I’m expected to do, so I join Mikaela at the food table and pour myself that glass of champagne.

  “Hey, people,” I hear Cody say in a louder voice, “these are the friends I was telling you about. You know, Mikaela and Sunny?” I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but it seems like he puts a little more emphasis on my name. He meets my eyes, and my mouth goes a little dry. I search his face; I want to know what he’s thinking. But his expression is mild, unreadable.

  Mikaela strides confidently over to one of the groups. I follow more slowly, and sip my drink. People shuffle around on the threadbare, institutional-gray carpet, making room for us.

  A thirtyish woman in a dark-blue gauzy dress introduces herself as Rennie. “Welcome to the Canyon Wiccan Circle’s annual solstice party,” she says. “We’re just chatting and enjoying the food before we officially get started.” Her gaze lingers on me for a second, her eyes the artificial dark green of specialty contact lenses, and I fidget uncomfortably. Cody hangs his black raincoat on a chair in the corner and stands next to me. The soft, dark fabric of his button-down shirt brushes the bare skin of my wrist. I can smell his clove cigarettes.

  I take a bigger swig of champagne.

  There are a few perfunctory introductions, and then people start talking again. Obviously they all know each other, and Cody is nodding and smiling at whatever Rennie’s saying like he totally gets it. I wonder if he hangs out with these people a lot.

  I wonder if he hangs out with Antonia. The thought makes my brain want to implode. Rather than pondering the Cody-Antonia connection, I tune back in to the conversation.

  “I know, I know, I saw him on Saturday. He totally gave me the brush-off,” says this tall guy—Jake? Jeff?—in a loud voice. He’s wearing a purple cloak, pinned at the neck with a silver pentagram. Underneath, he’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans, an ensemble that strikes me as goofy. Nobody else is dressed that way, not even Head Witch Rennie, or whatever her official title is.

  I elbow Mikaela and whisper, “I was told there would be no capes.” She pinches my arm surreptitiously. I can tell she’s trying not to laugh.

  Jeff/Jake continues his rant. “He thinks he’s all cool be-cause he works at the Ren Faire, but it’s really just an excuse to act like a snob.”

  “Well, you know that guy he’s always hanging out with? The one who goes to Faire in black leather armor?” Rennie says this in almost an undertone, leaning forward. The rest of the group leans in eagerly. “I think that’s his boyfriend.”

  “Nuh-uh, I could have sworn he was straight!” Jake/Jeff shakes his head. There are gasps all around. I sneak a sideways glance at Cody, who looks a little bored. Gossip: not what I expected out of the evening.

  I don’t know what I thought would happen, though. Reciting odes to the passing of the seasons? Mixing potions out of eye of newt?

  I nudge Mikaela with my left shoulder. “Hey,” I whisper. “Check out Antonia.” Antonia is standing in the doorway, watching the party and beaming. She’s holding yet another platter of cookies, and after a minute of standing there with that inane smile, she approaches the food table and sets it down.

  “Here’s my contribution to the evening. I’m so glad you decided to hold your celebration here! Let me know if you have any questions about solstice traditions. We have some wonderful books in the store about—”

  “Thanks so much,” Rennie butts in, stopping the monologue. Obviously she’s dealt with Antonia before. “It’s great. Really. I’ll let you know if we need anything.”

  “Okay, well, you have a beautiful time, and I wish I could join you but I have to watch the store—oh, and don’t forget to try my vegan solstice cookies,” Antonia chirps, her voice fading into the distance as she bustles out of the room.

  Cody goes over and closes the door after her. Everyone else gradually sits down in a large, irregular circle on the carpet. Rennie produces a huge green candle from her bag and lights the four wicks before placing it in the center of the circle, then lights a stick of Nag Champa incense, which makes the room smell like my Pakistani grandma’s house. She puts a few more items down: a prickly branch of holly complete with shiny red berries, a wilted sprig of mistletoe, a fragrant pine bough.

  Rennie stands. Everyone else does, too. Mikaela and I look at each other, then at Cody. He gives us this serious look, almost concerned, then turns his attention back to Rennie, who spreads her arms wide and strikes a dramatic pose. Maybe things are finally going to get interesting.

  “We are here at today’s Yuletide solstice,” she intones, “to celebrate the rebirth of the God to the Goddess, in this darkest hour of winter. O God and Goddess, see our sacred fir
es and bless us with peace and prosperity in the newly reborn season!” She continues in the same vein for another minute, and then there’s a moment of silence, in which everyone except me and Mikaela has their eyes closed and seems to be swaying slightly. Then Rennie opens her eyes and says, “Blessed be your solstice and fertile be your springtide.” I hide a smirk. This is more like what I expected, but it still seems kind of hokey.

  Soon, everyone is standing up, smiling and hugging each other and saying “Good Yule to you.” It reminds me of the time I went to Catholic mass with Grandma and Grandpa Pryce in Phoenix and everyone was shaking hands and saying “Peace be with you,” only this time there’s a lot more black clothing and pentagrams.

  “She writes her own ritual invocations,” Cody says quietly to me. “Pretty cool, right? I’ve been asking her about joining a real coven somewhere, a bigger group like the one in L.A. that doesn’t have so many posers.”

  “Wow,” Mikaela says. She seems impressed, or at least she’s pretending to be. I don’t even know what a coven entails, so I just nod and smile.

  A few minutes pass, and the party fragments into small groups again. Rennie and the older, more serious-looking Wiccans are hanging out by the food table. Cody, Mikaela, and I are standing with two girls and three guys who look about our age, hovering near a back door that’s been propped with a book so it’s slightly ajar. An icy breeze drifts through the opening.

  The guy standing on Cody’s right pulls out a leather drawstring bag and rummages around in it.

  My heart starts beating a little faster. Now what? The more imaginative part of my mind pictures some kind of weird bloodletting ritual with candles, a stained silver knife, and people chanting. Apparently, though, I’ve been watching too many bad movies. The guy pulls out a pipe made of blown glass shot through with swirly colors. As if it’s no big deal to be doing this with Antonia right there in the next room, he starts packing it with really pungent-smelling pot. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rennie glance over and frown, then shrug at Jake/Jeff and the other guy she’s talking to.

  I shift uneasily, wondering if Antonia’s going to notice and if she would tell my parents. I don’t even know what would happen if she did.

  The pipe makes its way around the circle. Part of me is cringing at how lame this is, how much it reminds me of something my parents might do. But another part of me can’t help feeling an illicit thrill.

  By the time the pipe makes its way to Cody, it’s gone out. He relights it with a Zippo he whips out of his pocket, and takes a long drag. He holds it in for several seconds, and then breathes a huge, stale-smelling cloud out of the six-inch gap in the doorway.

  “Nice one,” the guy who brought the pipe compliments him. And then Cody is looking at me, holding the pipe out as if he expects me to take it. I just sit there, frozen, my palms going clammy.

  Am I the weird one here? I suddenly don’t feel prepared for this moment. I don’t actually care what my parents would say, but I don’t feel comfortable with these random strangers, with Rennie and her weird eyes. I just can’t do it.

  Mikaela says, “Earth to Sunny. If you’re not partaking, you can pass it over here.”

  I gingerly take the pipe and pass it to my left. Mikaela takes a puff and passes it on in turn. Nobody seems to think anything’s strange about me not taking part, so I try to relax.

  After a few rounds of passing the pipe around the circle, the corner of the room is hazy with smoke despite everyone’s attempts to fan the evidence out the door. Someone on the other side of the room lights another stick of incense to try to mask the smell. Even though I didn’t participate, I feel lightheaded and strange. The swirling haze makes everything surreal, and the candle flames dance, casting flickering shadows.

  I’m not sure how much time has passed, but it’s been at least an hour, maybe two, since we got here. Rennie gestures for everyone to come together again, and motions for quiet. “Now,” she announces, “it is time to honor someone special who is here with us tonight, one who has been truly blessed by the Goddess.”

  Everyone goes quiet, expectant. They’re all smiling. Even I can’t help being a little curious. Rennie stands tall.

  “We have a true power in our midst, my friends, someone genuinely touched by the mysteries of nature. Who granted these blessings?” Rennie waves her arm, her diaphanous silver scarf billowing from her shoulder and trailing through the air as she paces back and forth before the group. “Was it the great Horned One? Was it the Threefold Goddess in her infinite wisdom?” There’s a dramatic pause.

  I have to resist the sudden urge to laugh hysterically. But I’m unaccountably nervous again, too. My heart races. Maybe it’s a contact high, or too much champagne.

  “What is the true purpose of those who are chosen?” Rennie is looking right at me, as if I have the answers she wants. The moment stretches out for what seems like an hour. I shift my legs uncomfortably. The more she stares at me, the more I’m getting this creepy feeling like I want to run out of the room.

  Finally, Rennie continues. “Perhaps, children of the Goddess … perhaps tonight we will find out.”

  In that minute I realize that not just Rennie is looking at me. Everybody is looking at me.

  thirteen

  “Sunny?” Rennie asks, leaning in closely, her green eyes boring into mine. “Will you be favoring us with a demonstration of your … ability?”

  I stand up. My head spins, and my throat is dry and scratchy. I swallow uncomfortably.

  I look around the circle, my eyes falling on face after eager face, all looking at me expectantly, almost hungrily. There’s a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Somebody told them about my underhearing.

  And Mikaela is the only one who knows.

  I look at her, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. She just looks miserably at the floor. I look at Cody. He smiles at me almost earnestly. Suddenly, everything becomes crystal clear, and then I really start to feel like the walls are closing in. I don’t want to be around any of these people any more, these strangers who know my secret.

  “I have to go,” I manage to whisper, and I run out of the room. Rushing through the store, I hear Antonia say something questioningly, but I don’t stop, I just push out the front door and keep going until I’m almost at the other end of the strip mall. I stand hidden in the shadow of a dark storefront, gulping in breaths of cold night air. A chilly breeze blows my neatly brushed hair into whorls and tangles, but I don’t care.

  I bend forward, my hands on my knees, until the cold air starts to clear my head. And I realize this:

  One—these so-called Wiccans know about my underhearing and want me to be some kind of freak show for their personal amusement. Two—the only person I told about my underhearing was Mikaela. Three—Mikaela has never hung out with the Wiccan group before. She couldn’t have told them. But Cody could have.

  Since I doubt Cody has mind-reading powers of his own, that means Mikaela told him.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, turn toward the wall, and press my forehead against the rough stucco. This explains a lot of the strange things he’s said over the past week, like him having a “feeling” I’d really be interested in the solstice party.

  I can’t believe her. She had no right to say anything to anyone, not even Cody. I might have told him myself, eventually. But it’s my secret to keep or give out. And I don’t want to be put on display for a roomful of random strangers.

  Then I realize another thing.

  There’s only one reason I can see for Mikaela breaking my trust. One reason why she’d tell Cody, even when I told her not to say anything to anyone.

  Mikaela wants Cody. So badly she’ll tell him anything to keep his attention.

  I feel sick, and stupid. It seems so obvious to me now. All the little looks, the teasing, the play-fighting. She’s completely hopeless when it comes to Cody.

  And, says a tiny, mean voice inside me, she was there first.

  Whe
n the door of the bookstore opens and Cody comes out alone, I can’t even look at him. My jaw tightens. I try to stay still, hidden in the shadows. I hear his footsteps, though, and I know he’s seen me. He leans against the wall next to me in his ripped, patched black blazer and puts a hand on my arm. I pull away with a jerk, but I can still feel the heat on my skin where he rested his hand.

  “Are you okay?”

  I look up and stare at him, hard.

  “No,” I finally respond, forcing the answer out through gritted teeth. I turn away.

  He sighs and leans back against the wall. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened in there.”

  “Whatever.” I start stalking toward my car, my head down. “You and Mikaela can have each other.”

  He follows me, a few paces behind. “Oh, come on—it wasn’t that big a deal, was it? I thought Mikaela was joking, like you knew some kind of fun party trick. Like the

  8 Ball. I figured everyone would get a kick out of it.”

  I walk faster. “She told you my one big secret, you guys talked about me behind my back, and now everyone knows my secret. Yeah, no big deal,” I say caustically, my voice getting louder. “But you don’t know. You don’t know what it’s been like.” I stop; turn to face him. “It’s real, and it’s horrible, Cody.”

  “Hey,” he says softly. “Shh. I didn’t know.” There’s a long pause and I clench my car keys in my hand. “Listen … if something weird is happening to you, maybe you could use some backup, you know, in trying to figure it out. Rennie and her friends are into that kind of thing. They might be able to help. She understands more than you think. She can see people’s auras. She says it’s a gift.”

  I look at him again, not sure what to believe. He looks sincere now. Serious.