Breaking Hearts (B-boy #3)

by S. Briones Lim

  For example, as we perused one of the aisles examining what looked like leaf bundles and thick twigs, I absently asked, “So who was that Sarah girl, anyway? She seemed to know you pretty well.”

  Mallory stiffened up, fingers tightening on a package of aromatic sticks. “She’s just a girl in my class.”

  “Your piano class?”

  “Yeah,” she snapped.

  “Do you play in the same orchestra or something?”

  “No, she has the solo.” Her voice dropped low, sounding almost raspy.

  “Do you play solos?”

  “What’s with the third degree? We’re here to stop this jinx, right? Not to become best friends or anything.” And there was that snappy comeback I had grown so used to receiving. I would have bought her irritation at face value, however, her drooping lips and sad eyes spoke of something other than annoyance. She was depressed about something, but what?

  Hoping to lighten the mood, I forced out a laugh as I fingered an abalone shell. “You’re right, you know.”

  “I am?” she asked, probably taken off guard by my quick agreement. “About what exactly?”

  “What did you tell me again? Normal hookups don’t usually end up meeting again over and over again, right?” I snickered. “Guess we’re rewriting the rules of one-night stands. We don't have to be best friends, but doesn't hurt to like each other a bit.”

  Like each other.

  I basically just told her I was still attracted to her. Awesome way to shoot myself in the foot.

  “Whatever you say…” She placed the container of scented sticks labeled Palo Santo into my basket and pressed her lips together into a forced smile. “Let’s just break this jinx once and for all and we’ll never have to meet over and over again, okay? We both know I’m only here to humor you. You can cut with the ‘let's be friends’ crap now.”

  A rush of cold air blew past our faces, jolting me in surprise. I glanced over at Mallory and found her mirroring my reaction, wearing an identical mask of surprise.

  An old woman strolled uncomfortably close to us, her silver hair hanging low to the arch of her back, swinging with each step she took. She wore a baggy pair of peach silk pants topped with what looked like a satin kimono-type robe. Her movements dripped with grace, almost fluid-like and ethereal. Had it not been for the Starbucks cup in her hand, which was the only thing about her that screamed normal, I would have thought she had manifested straight out of those New Age books I’d been pouring over the night before.

  The woman turned toward me with a smirk on her face. “Did I hear someone mention a jinx?”

  Mallory’s head snapped in my direction, eyes widening as if to say, “Don’t egg her on.”

  However, something about the woman just screamed that she would know how to break my curse or any other curses, for that matter. So despite Mallory’s quiet protests, I decided to go with my gut and answered, “Yeah, I think I’ve been doused in a shower of bad luck. We’re just trying to find a way to, uh, counteract it.”

  Pale pink and thin, like two petals of my mother’s old geraniums, the woman’s lips curled into a soft smile, though her greyish eyes remained vibrant and intense. “Bad luck, huh? That sounds like something I can help you with.”

  “Really?” I felt like dropping to my knees and thanking the heavens.

  She nodded wistfully. “Mmhmm. I have a penchant for situations like these, you know. Have many years of practice.”

  Mallory’s eyes tightened as she tilted her head toward the door, mouthing, “Let’s go.”

  I shook my head and watched as the strange woman fished into her purse, which looked as if it were made out of old hemp, before pulling out a business card. Her fingers felt icy as she placed the flimsy stock into my hand.

  Bria Fonte

  Supernatural Consultant

  “I charge one hundred dollars an hour.” She paused, eyeing Mallory speculatively. “Each.”

  “Supernatural Consultant, eh?” I commented, as I flicked against the card. “What can you do for me exactly?”

  “I have ways to negate whatever darkness is running through you,” she replied in a mysterious, eerie tone. Then just like the flick of a switch, her voice brightened, sounding like a normal grandma next door. “I’m free in the evenings and on weekends. Give me a call if you want to cure yourself.” With that she nodded her head as if agreeing to an appointment I had yet to make. She shuffled past Mallory and waved her fingers in the air. “See you both soon.”

  We gawked after her retreating figure, neither speaking until she was out of earshot. As soon as she was out of sight, Mallory whipped her head around, pelting me in the face with her thick blonde locks. “Are you out of your mind?”

  “What? I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’re thinking about calling her, aren’t you?” she demanded, staring at me in horror. “You’re insane!”

  “I never said that I would,” I replied, trying to keep my voice cool.

  She lifted her eyebrows in disbelief. “Tell me the truth.”

  Groaning, I stuck the card into my back pocket and shrugged. “What do you want me to say? She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

  “And she also seems the type to turn you into a frog or suck your blood at night,” she hissed, sounding rather hysterical. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “What’s so funny?”

  “For someone who doesn’t believe in this stuff and is only here to humor me,” I paused, making air quotations, “You seem rather worked up by a little old lady.”

  “Little old lady?” she repeated in surprise. “Seriously? You think she’s a normal little old lady? She was practically screaming witch.”

  “I thought this wasn’t a movie,” I shot back. “Besides, don’t witches wear black? She had ladybugs on her shirt.”

  Mallory shook her head adamantly. “No. If you really want to break this hex, then I suggest that you do not try that supernatural consultant. What the fuck is a supernatural consultant, anyway? Unless she’s an expert on Sam and Dean Winchester, then I have to say stay the hell away from her.”

  “Who the hell are Sam and Dean?” I asked, scratching my head in confusion.

  She blew air through her lips, making a raspberry noise. “For someone who seems obsessed with weird stuff, I’m surprised you haven’t seen that show.”

  “I don’t have time for any of that fun stuff, remember? I work twenty-four seven,” I replied matter-of-factly. In that brief moment, I thought I caught a look of understanding and maybe even approval flash over Mallory’s face. Though it was fleeting, it was definitely there. “If she knows how to cure me, then I’m going through with it.”

  “I just don’t trust her, okay? Besides, she’s charging a hundred bucks! And she didn’t even tell you exactly what she’d do to you. You could wake up tomorrow missing a kidney or something.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” I pulled the card from my pocket again and flipped it over to show her the fine print written on her name. “She has a suite in La Jolla. That doesn’t scream black market to me, does it?”

  “But…”

  “You don’t have to go, Mallory. If this works, then all this jinx stuff is all done. I won’t be wasting your time anymore and then we really don’t have to see each other anymore.”

  “I just…” Her voice trailed off, leaving me hanging, wondering what was going on in that mind of hers.

  There was something heavy that hung in the air between us. It was a feeling of intense longing that I couldn’t even put into words.

  Mallory’s face folded in disappointment. Quietly, she grabbed the wire basket from my hands.

  I swallowed. “What are you doing?”

  “You can believe me or not, but I don’t think you’ll find whatever you’re looking for with her…but since it seems that you’re so dead set on meeting with her—”

  “Please don’t say the word dead,” I muttered.

  “—and though I stil
l don’t believe in all this stuff, I might as well prepare for the inevitable disappointment you’ll be facing after her spells and charms don’t work on you.”

  My head jerked back as a frown worked itself on my face. “What are you talking about?”

  She lifted the basket, shaking it back and forth, rolling the plant bundles and sticks from side to side. “This. I am going to buy these for you. Things that probably won’t cost above ten bucks―not a hundred.”

  “Aw, you do care about me.” I shot her a smug grin, feeling my heart jump when I caught her scanning my face.

  She shot me a pitiful smile. “I don’t care about you. I just feel sorry for you.”

  Chapter 15

  Mallory

  Asher insisted on taking me out for dinner that night. Of course that dinner turned into a trip to the library, which then turned into an online search party at Gerald’s house for any information about supernatural consultants. By the time he dropped me back off at my car on campus and I made it home, it was nearing midnight. My keys rattled against my piano shaped keychain as I fumbled with the multiple locks of my front door. When I finally got it open and stepped inside, another flash of light greeted me almost immediately.

  “Seriously? Another photo?” I dropped my backpack onto the floor, kicking it toward my old piano that I had bought at a local auction a few years back. It was battered and beaten, but tuned perfectly. Like an old friend, it always waited for me, apparently just like Claudia, who once again waved a nasty Polaroid through the air.

  “It’s midnight, completely negating your suspicions of a walk of shame,” I muttered. Exhaustion enveloped my body and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed.

  Claudia’s thick hair was pulled up in a messy top knot that I’d never be able to pull off. It bounced along with her as she skipped over to me. “You never come home this late, especially on a school night. You’re like an eighty-three-year-old…or an eight-year-old.” She snickered.

  I rolled my eyes, not bothering to glance at how horrible I probably looked in the picture. “Again, no walk of shame here. You can throw that photo away.”

  “It may not be a spotlight picture, but it definitely deserves a place on the fridge.” I followed her into the kitchen and watched half-heartedly as she plucked an extra fruit shaped magnet from our junk drawer and placed the photo on the outskirts of the cream colored door. “There we go…hmm…it looks like we need more magnets.”

  I was about midway through an eye roll when I spotted another new photo gracing the fridge. I tapped against one of Jinny and asked, “When was this taken? She looks like she was caught doing something wrong.”

  “Eh, I just surprised her. She was coming home from a night with Raphael.”

  I eyed the stiletto pumps in her hands and guilty expression. “Are you sure?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I shrugged it off, not really caring to get into somebody else’s drama. Lord knows I already had enough of my own. I was about to turn away when I noticed Claudia scanning me carefully. With a reluctant sigh, I asked, “Why are you looking at me like that for?”

  “Red cheeks and swollen lips? You sure you weren’t messing around?” She wagged her eyebrows up and down.

  “No, I was not messing around,” I groaned, stomping toward my room. Absently, I wiped against my mouth, instantly regretting the jalapeños I stuck onto my pizza slices during dinner.

  “Where were you then? And please don’t lie.”

  “I wasn’t going to. I was with Asher.”

  Claudia’s eyes widened with delight. Squealing, she pulled me back toward the couch, coaxing me to take seat. “You have to tell me everything!”

  “We were just doing his anti-jinx stuff.” I lifted my hands in the air as if to say ‘now what’?

  The crestfallen look on Claudia’s face was almost laughable. “You mean to tell me you were researching anti-hexes until midnight?”

  I rubbed at my eyes with a yawn. “Yeah, but it’s only because I was trying to talk him out of seeing some witch doctor or something.” Her eyes widened in horror, causing me to snort, “Don’t ask.”

  Claudia sat quietly, gnawing at her lip. The look she threw me seemed almost pitiful. Feeling a bit perturbed, I snapped, “Can you stop looking at me as if I’m one of those TV commercials about stray dogs?”

  “Are you sure there isn’t something going on between you two?”

  “I told you there wasn’t.” What I didn’t tell her was how my stomach always felt like it was in somersaults whenever I was around him or how even one look from him caused my insides to melt…and required a change of underwear.

  “And why is that?” she asked quietly.

  I stared at her in surprise. “Um, I don’t know? Because it’s not like that?”

  “You slept with him already,” she shot back confidently. “Suffice to say it is like that.”

  “It was supposed to be a onetime hook up…besides, he thinks I’m a jinx.” I picked at my cuticles, which was pretty hard to do considering I’d just trimmed my nails again that morning. It was one of the downfalls of playing the piano. I’d never be able to wear cute French manicures or Cat Claws.

  My friend’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ah, so there it is. You do like him.”

  “What?” I lowered my hands, racking my brain for anything I could have said to tip her off.

  “I can so tell and you totally can’t deny it.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively. “Aw, my little Mallory is growing up and developing womanly feelings and shit.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re acting as if I’d never had a boyfriend before.”

  “Not in a long time you haven’t. Why is that?”

  “Because I don’t want one,” I answered adamantly.

  “You want Asher.”

  “No, I—”

  She lifted a finger to shush me. “Don’t even lie. It’s so obvious. Your eyes light up whenever you hear his name.”

  “No, it—”

  “Asher.”

  I felt my face heating up. “…don’t.”

  With a kind smile on her face, Claudia reached over and took both of my hands into hers. “What is it with you and pushing guys away? I’d seen you do it anytime someone remotely shows interest in you. That’s why Jinny and I were so surprised when you hooked up with Asher that night.”

  “I had a bad day.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, so we heard.” She squeezed my hands gently. “Spill it. Why the man hate?”

  “I don’t hate men.”

  “But?”

  “But I just don’t have time for them right now. Every waking moment is devoted to practice, and even with all the practice in the world I still find myself with the short end of the stick, losing out to girls like Sar-uhhh,” I said, exaggerating the girl’s name.

  Claudia snickered. “I hate to say it…”

  “Then don’t,” I interrupted.

  She bowed her head as if apologizing in advance. “But maybe that’s the reason why Sarah gets all the parts.”

  “Um, what is?”

  “You said Damien thought you lacked focus and passion, right?”

  I bit into my lip so hard that I tasted iron tinting my tongue. “Yeah, so?”

  “Sarah obviously doesn’t turn her back on passion like you do.”

  “Hey, I’m more passionate about playing than she is,” I snapped. “She shows up to class late and hardly practices.”

  “That’s just it! Maybe you practice too much,” she explained, ignoring the doubt etched on my face. “You practice so much that it’s becoming robotic. Maybe you need something else to focus on in your life to wake up that musical je ne sais quoi again.”

  “French. Fancy,” I mumbled.

  “Thanks.” She winked. “I’m just saying that if you like the guy, tell him. Sometimes you run away from things you really want, choosing to hide in the old and familiar. That’s not good. You don’t want to li
ve your life in the same old, boring, mundane routine.”

  “I don’t?” I liked monotony. It was like a broken in pair of comfortable shoes.

  “No!” she exclaimed with a huff. “Stop hiding behind practicing. Stop sabotaging your relationships by not even giving them a full chance. You might surprise yourself and find out that love is the missing link to becoming an awesome performer.” She cocked her head to side and narrowed her eyes. “About your exes…were you always the one who ended things with them? In all the years we’ve been friends I’ve only seen you in one relationship—with someone I only met once by the way—and now one hookup. Both of these you ran away from. Why?”

  “Yes, I ended everything. Are you happy?” I asked in exasperation.

  “No. Sad really.”

  “Well, don’t be sad. Like I said, I just want to focus on playing the piano. I’m goal oriented and always have been. It’s not my fault my old boyfriends never understood that work ethic.” Claudia’s face puckered in disappointed, leading me to laugh. “Were you expecting a sob story or something?”

  She shrugged. “There usually is when someone continuously pushes love away.”

  “And why are we even talking about love now? If you're insinuating I'm falling for Asher,” I shook my head and stuck out my tongue, “No.”

  “Who said anything about Asher?” She shot me a wink and beamed.

  “I’m too tired for this. I have class in the morning.” Without saying anything more, I rose from my seat and padded to my room.

  When my hand was at the door knob, Claudia called out, “As much as I admire you for your devotion to your craft, don’t pigeonhole yourself in the corner. Tickling the ivory can only get you so far until you wish someone else can do the tickling for you, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ugh.” I let my head fall back as I entered my room.

  Chapter 16

  Asher

  “You’re seriously not gonna come? It’s a freaking cypher. It’s just us friends dancing around at the beach.” Mahone lifted that ill-fitting baseball cap of his and scratched at his head. “I don’t get why you don’t want to go out and jam with us.”