I don’t say anything, but Jodi doesn’t seem to expect a response. She moves to the counter on the left side of the store and ducks behind the cash register. When she emerges, she’s holding a clipboard and a pencil.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful? The bracelets need to be inventoried.”
I set down the rose quartz and cross the room to take the clipboard. I can’t argue with her—counting bracelets seems like the least I can do to repay her for taking me in. She tells me how to match up the numbers on the list and the tags on the bracelets and I get to work.
I lose count twice when customers come into the store. The first is an older woman, stylishly dressed in knit slacks and a blue blouse. She selects a few bunches of herbs and a couple bottles of dark-colored liquid. I try to figure out what she’s buying, but I don’t want to appear like I’m snooping. The woman and Jodi have a long conversation at the register before she leaves. The second customer is a man who is probably Jodi’s age. He selects several blue vials of pellets and pays, not bothering to engage in conversation like the woman did.
I decide piling the bracelets into groups of ten might be my best course of action. I glance up at Jodi as I make piles on the floor around me, waiting for an admonishment, but it doesn’t come.
I’m on the last page of the list when the bell over the door chimes for the third time. I ignore the patron who passes me, intent on finishing my task. I smile triumphantly when I get to the end of the list and start replacing the bracelets on their stand. When I do so, the newest customer finally catches my eye. He appears to be about my age, tall, with dark hair. If he goes to school with me, he must have been absent today. The long lines of his body move with the elegant grace of a cat. Even in a crowded hallway, I would have noticed him.
He doesn’t look in my direction. His eyes scan the bundles of herbs, but the set of his jaw tells me he isn’t seeing what he wants.
Jodi doesn’t approach the guy, but her eyes don’t leave him. Maybe he’s been in here before, and she doesn’t trust him for some reason. Is he a shoplifter? Seeing as there is no one else in the store, it seems unlikely—there isn’t nearly enough distraction. Besides, are herbs and crystals really worthwhile targets for theft?
He scans the rows of herbs twice before turning his attention to Jodi. “Have you got any lavender? In back or something?”
Jodi raises her eyebrows. “More lavender?”
“Give me a break, okay? My grandma likes using it in tea and lemonade and potpourri—I think she’s got a problem, truth be told.” An easy smile stretches across his face as he looks at Jodi. “Could you look for me?”
Jodi’s mouth twitches. Her eyes dart to me briefly before she responds. “I’ve got some lavender in my greenhouse, but it’s not ready yet. I can give your grandma a call when it’s ready, if you like.”
He shakes his head. “No need.”
I figure that since Jodi doesn’t have what he’s looking for, he’ll leave, but he doesn’t make a move toward the door. Instead, he wanders over to the shelves of gems and stones and passes his hand over them. After a moment, he picks up the same piece of rose quartz I held earlier. Slowly, he turns to face me, his head tilting to the side. He is intensely attractive. Before, I just caught glimpses of his profile and the way he moved, but now, with him staring right at me, I find it hard to draw breath. There’s something in the intensity of his cool gray eyes, maybe, or the shape of his lips. I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, but I also can’t ignore the effect he has on me.
“Jodi,” he calls, his eyes not leaving me, “who’s your friend?”
I stand and open my mouth to introduce myself, but my name sticks in my throat, so I close my mouth and swallow. The guy raises his chin, exposing his smooth neck.
“This is Kristyl,” Jodi says, coming to my rescue. “I’m a little surprised you don’t know. She was at school today.”
“I wasn’t there. But I wish I would’ve been.” He takes a moment to look me up and down before closing the distance between us and offering his hand. “Any friend of Jodi’s is a friend of mine. I’m Fox Holloway.”
I take his hand and a thrill courses through my arm as our skin touches. I shiver involuntarily.
“She’s my niece,” Jodi adds, and there’s an edge of warning in her tone.
Fox grins and looks into my eyes. I can feel him searching me out and for once, I don’t want to shy away. I want him to see me, to know me. “Jodi’s niece, huh? That makes you exceptionally interesting.”
Jodi clears her throat but I barely hear her. It’s not until she moves to my side that I release Fox’s hand, feeling dazed. I glance at Jodi. She wears an expression I can’t identify.
Something tugs at the back of my mind. I’m not behaving like myself, not in the least. What is it about Fox that’s making me feel so different? Yes, he’s good-looking, with his broad shoulders, strong jaw, and stormy eyes. But he isn’t the first or only good-looking guy I’ve ever encountered. Owen is incredibly cute and I talked with him all day without a problem. So why is Fox affecting me like this?
“Besides the lavender, is there anything else I can help you find today, Fox?” Jodi asks pleasantly, but I detect a hardness underneath.
Fox’s eyes don’t leave mine. “I think I’m good. For now. It was nice meeting you, Kristyl. I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”
Heat spreads over my cheeks and I manage a smile. “I look forward to it.”
Fox winks before turning and exiting the store. Once he’s gone, I watch his figure through the glass of the door until he’s out of sight. A pressure squeezes my chest momentarily and I turn to my aunt, feeling suddenly disoriented. “Wow.”
Jodi is watching me with interest.
“He seemed nice,” I say when it’s clear she’s not going to speak.
“He’s certainly… charming.” The way she says it, it doesn’t sound like a compliment.
I shake my head, the fog in my mind clearing. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like that around guys.”
“Really? What are you usually like?”
“I dunno.” I don’t mention that before today, I haven’t had a real conversation with a guy my age in years. Instead, I recall today’s interactions with Owen and West. “Normal, I guess. But with him… I felt a little overwhelmed.”
She considers this for a moment before nodding. “It seems like that’s the consensus lately.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. For a woman in her thirties, that seems like an odd insight into the lives of teenagers. “How do you know that? Do you secretly stalk the hallways of the high school or something?”
She smiles. “No. It’s just a small town. Fox is in here pretty regularly and I’m also friends with your principal, remember? Shelly mentioned there’ve been a couple times so far this year where girls have gotten into fights over him.”
Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that girls would fight for his attention. But why doesn’t it surprise me? I conjure the image of his face in my mind, the color of his eyes, the shape of his face. Sure, he’s good-looking, but now that he’s not standing in front of me, it’s difficult to remember exactly why I’d felt so overwhelmed by his presence. When I compare Fox and Owen now, I find Owen more appealing.
Jodi clears her throat as she crosses to the shelves lined with bags of loose tea. She pulls open a cupboard at the bottom of the shelves and starts filling in the empty areas. “Speaking of school, did you have a good day? You didn’t say much about it earlier.”
In the past, talking about school would have brought a knot of tension to my stomach; today it brings a smile to my lips. “It was actually really good. I mean, it started off rough, but then I met Owen and he introduced me to all his friends.”
She straightens the rows of bags. “The rough start, I assume, is where the spilled coffee and Owen’s sweatshirt come in?”
I nod. “Yeah, I bumped into a girl and she spilled her coffee all over me.
And, get this—apparently she’s the school’s head witch and now I’m mortal enemies with her.” I roll my eyes for effect.
Jodi raises an eyebrow. “Witch, huh?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Lexie says she’s going to plot revenge against me. West seems to think it’ll be revenge of a magical variety. Crazy, right?”
But as I say the words, I look around the store and press my lips together in a tight line. “No offense or anything.”
“None taken.” Jodi smiles at me and walks to the shelf of quartz crystals. “So, who’s this mortal enemy?”
I sigh, grateful I haven’t offended her. “That’s the best part: her name’s Crystal, like me. Only…” A bubble of happiness swells in my chest. “I’ve got a nickname. Well, two, I guess. Some kids are calling me ‘Coffee Girl’ since I spilled Crystal’s coffee. But Owen started calling me Krissa.” A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I say it. “I like it.”
“It’s nice,” Jodi agrees. “Now, this girl whose coffee you spilled? Is her last name Jamison?”
I nod. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
“She’s the only other Crystal I know.” She selects a murky stone from the shelf. “You know, if you’re worried this girl’s gonna cast a spell on you, smoky quartz is known for its protective qualities.”
I reach for the quartz for a moment before stopping and pulling the ring out from under my shirt. I study its stone before holding it out for Jodi. “Is this smoky quartz?”
She steps toward me and squints at it. “Could be.”
I smile and tuck it back in its place. Even if it’s not, having the ring around my neck makes me feel protected, like somehow my dad is watching out for me. It’s a good thought.
A woman enters the store and Jodi moves toward the door to greet her. I watch as my aunt tips her head back and laughs at something the woman says. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have known the last time she crossed my mind. Now I’m glad Jodi is in my life, and not just because without her, I’d probably be in foster care. She’s not afraid to talk about my dad. In a small measure, it’s like having a piece of him with me again. With Jodi around, I can almost forget I’ve lost both of my parents.
Almost.
Chapter Seven
For the first time in a long time, I wake up excited for school. My first day at Clearwater High started out rocky, but it definitely only got better from there. I can’t wait to see my new friends, to sit with them in class, to eat lunch with them. I can’t wait to have a regular high school experience. Every time I think of Lexie’s laugh or Bria’s dry humor, my anticipation for the day increases. And when I think about Owen’s eyes, his smile, my stomach flips. I can’t believe I let Fox affect me like that yesterday, not when I have a real friend like Owen.
I take care selecting today’s outfit. I own almost exclusively tee-shirts and jeans, but after some digging I locate the tunic and leggings my mom bought me for Christmas last year in an attempt to get some variety into my wardrobe. The tunic is deep jade green and comes to my mid-thigh. The leggings are simple and black, but they look good with the green. When I study my reflection in the mirror, it’s easy for me to believe I’m a new person here. I even pull my hair back in a low half pony-tail. For the first time in years, I don’t think I’ll need it to hide behind.
Jodi lets out a whistle when I walk into the kitchen and I duck my head, hoping to hide the blush I’m sure has painted my cheeks. Her eyes follow me as I pour cereal and milk into the bowl she’s set out on the counter for me.
“I thought all you owned was tee-shirts and jeans.” Jodi surveys me over her steaming mug of tea.
I put the milk into the refrigerator and take my breakfast into the dining room. Jodi follows me. “That’s pretty much all I have,” I admit, settling at the table. “But I… wanted to try something different today.”
She sips her tea. “You know, I’ve got some boxes of clothes I keep meaning to donate to Goodwill. When I hit thirty, I figured there were some clothes it was no longer socially acceptable for me to wear.” She grins. “You’re welcome to poke through them, if you want. No pressure or anything. I won’t be offended if you don’t like any of my old stuff.”
Today Jodi wears a gently shimmering gray tank top under a long, draped cardigan, skinny jeans, and knee-high black leather boots with three-inch heels. If this is something she deems appropriate for a thirty-something, the idea of what she may have marked as inappropriate is pretty appealing. “That’d be nice. I’d like to look through the boxes.”
“I’ll bring them in later. Or, better yet, you can help me bring them in when we get home from the shop.” She winks.
My conversation with Owen about working at the shop comes back to me. “Speaking of that—is it going to be an everyday thing, me coming to the shop after school? I mean, I’m more than happy to help out. But, if you like, Owen said he could drop me off so you wouldn’t have to leave every day to get me.”
Jodi’s face scrunches as she considers it. “That sounds fine. It’s nice of him to offer.”
I nod. “He says it’s no big deal because the shop’s on his way home.”
Jodi’s mouth twitches at this, but she says nothing.
I finish my breakfast and we head out to Jodi’s car. I hum as we drive toward the school, my pale fingers drumming against Owen’s sweatshirt, which sits folded in my lap. The navy color of the sweatshirt brings out the blue of my veins. My mom always described my skin color as translucent. It used to bother me, but now I hold onto the description, tucking it away in my mind along with all the other things I want to remember about her.
I don’t notice Owen on my way into the building and wonder, as I head up the stairs, whether he’s going to be late again today.
I spin the dial on my locker, a smile on my lips. When someone approaches in my periphery, I’m so convinced it’s Owen that I turn with the smile still firmly in place.
But it’s not Owen. Crystal Jamison stands before me, as perfectly put together as she was yesterday. Her brown hair falls in gentle spiral curls around her shoulders and her makeup accentuates her blue eyes. Beside her is Bridget, nearly an exact copy, except her hair, eyes, and complexion are darker and her curves a bit more ample. The bubble of joy that has been swelling in my chest all morning deflates at the sight of them, and my mind returns to every reason I’ve ever had to hate school.
Crystal crosses her arms over her chest and, after a beat, Bridget follows suit. “You’re Jodi Barnette’s niece.” There’s no question in Crystal’s tone, but she doesn’t speak the words like a condemnation, either.
I take in a breath. “Yes.”
Her cool blue eyes survey me and I bite the insides of my cheeks. The urge to turn and look down the hall for Owen or Lexie or Bria or West is strong, but I resist. To look away shows weakness; I know that.
Crystal’s hand goes to the pendant she wears around her neck as her eyes continue to scan me. I wish she would say whatever it is she’s come to say and be done with me, but she seems to be in no hurry to let me get on my way. The seconds tick by and I wait, agitation growing within me. Behind me, the lock on my locker begins to rattle gently. I dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands, hoping the sharp pain will anchor me to the moment and keep something unexpected from happening. It can’t happen here. This is my new start: a new place where nobody knows my history. I’m not alone anymore. I have friends here.
I have friends here.
The panic building within me ebbs. The rattling of the lock ceases. I square my shoulders, feeling much braver than I have in a long time. “If you’ve got something to say, say it. If not, get out of my way so I can get to class.”
Crystal’s eyes flash and without warning, she grabs my wrist. Her hold is firm and her nails bite into my flesh. I try to wrench my hand away, but I can’t. The swirl of emotion that was just beginning to recede flows back in full force and heat builds in my stomach. I stare into Crystal’s cold blue eyes, pleading with my own for her t
o let go. My lips part, but a flash overtakes my sight, stealing the words from my mouth.
Eyes. Green eyes. Strong jaw covered in dark stubble. A man’s face. But who is he? And why am I seeing him?
“Hey, what’s going on here?”
The words snap me out of my vision. Crystal tenses and turns toward the voice. After a beat, she releases my wrist. I step away from her. Mrs. Cole is stalking down the hallway toward us as fast as her high heels will allow. I take in a breath, waiting for her to release a stream of vitriol in my direction, but her eyes are fixed on Crystal.
“I asked you a question,” Mrs. Cole says as she approaches. “Crystal, why were your hands on Miss Barnette?”
A spasm crosses Crystal’s face. “I… I thought she had something of mine. I was trying to make her let me see what was in her hand.”
I stare at her, too shocked by her blatant lie to react.
Mrs. Cole’s eyes flit from Crystal’s face to Bridget’s and finally to mine. There’s an expression on her face I can’t quite read. “May I see what’s in your hand, Kristyl?”
I open both my hands and hold them out to her. Her gaze merely brushes my empty palms before returning to Crystal, whose face tightened.
“And what was it you believe she had?”
I recognize the tone of Mrs. Cole’s voice: It’s the same tone teachers and administrators used on me time and time again. Mrs. Cole doesn’t believe Crystal’s story. Mrs. Cole is on my side. The thought of someone—an adult—standing up for me almost makes me want to cry.
Crystal’s gaze doesn’t falter as she looks at Mrs. Cole. “I thought she had my lip gloss. It’s not in my purse and some freshman said they thought she had it.”
“Well, as this isn’t kindergarten, I shouldn’t have to remind you that we should keep our hands to ourselves. I recommend if there are any further problems, you come see me.”
Mrs. Cole’s eyes slide to me for the briefest of moments and I understand her meaning: If Crystal Jamison bothers me again, I should come see her.
Crystal Magic (Clearwater Witches Book 1) Page 5
