Crystal Magic (Clearwater Witches Book 1)
Page 7
A tinkling sounds and I almost jump. Jodi’s face creases with concern when her eyes take in the scene.
“All right, Krissa?” She walks into the shop until she’s next to Fox, her eyes on him. “More lavender?”
Fox shakes his head. “I was just leaving. Jodi, a pleasure, as always.” He inclines his head toward me briefly before heading out the door.
Jodi watches him go. “What did he want?”
I shrug. I could tell Jodi the truth, but I’m not exactly sure what to say. She hasn’t said anything about the earthquake, and if she didn’t feel it, I don’t want to bring it up. What would I tell her about it, anyway? I may or may not have made the entire high school shake today when I got upset? It sounds insane. “More lavender, I guess.”
Jodi’s eyes are still on the door. “There’s something about that boy.”
I bite my lower lip. I can’t agree more. When he’s not around, the thought of him doesn’t affect me. Even now, my earlier desire for him leaves me. It’s not like that with Owen: Whether I’m with him or just thinking about him, I still get butterflies in my stomach. But as soon as Fox is near me, it’s like he’s the only guy in the world. I don’t understand it. I consider mentioning it to Jodi, but what could she possibly say? Probably that it’s just the work of hormones in my body or something like that. No, whatever it is about Fox, it’s better I keep it to myself. Instead, I focus on something simple. “Um, do you think it’d be okay for me to go out tonight?”
She shakes her head slightly, as if clearing it of its last train of thought. “Depends. Who, what, when, where?”
“Movie night at West Harmon’s house. I think Lexie said they usually meet around eight.” I bite the inside of my cheek. It’s Friday, but eight o’clock, plus a two-hour movie, puts me out until after ten. Since I had no friends at my last school, I never went anywhere and never had a curfew; I don’t even know what is reasonable for a sixteen-year-old on a weekend.
Jodi eyes me closely. “So, it’s going to be West, Lexie… Owen?” She waggles her eyebrows at me.
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Yes, Owen. And Bria. Maybe some other people. I’m not sure.”
She studies me for a beat longer before shrugging. “Sure. I don’t see why not.” As she moves toward the employees-only room, she pauses to look at me again. “I’m glad you’re making friends here.”
I can’t express how glad I am, too.
Chapter Ten
West Harmon’s house is a large Victorian just a few blocks away from Jodi’s place. Though I insist I can walk there, Jodi and Owen both decide it’s best I get a ride.
By the time Owen and I arrive, Lexie and Bria are already settled on the couch, on either side of Felix Wolfe, a guy who sat with us at lunch earlier in the week. He is broad in the chest with brown hair that brushes against his shoulders.
The three of them call out greetings as we enter. Owen settles on the couch adjacent to the one Lexie, Bria, and Felix sit on, and although there’s a recliner on the other side of the room, I decide to take the spot beside him. He raises an eyebrow at me when I sit and I bump his shoulder with mine. When he bumps mine in return, I smile.
Once we’re settled, Lexie and Bria turn back to each other and continue their previous discussion.
“I’m telling you, it’s not a good idea,” Lexie says, tugging at Felix’s arm. “Tell her it’s not a good idea.”
Before Felix can get a word in, Bria is talking.
“I’m telling you, I don’t care.”
I look at Lexie. “What’s going on?”
Lexie rolls her eyes. “Just dance talk.”
A thrill courses through me. “Dance?”
“Yeah. The annual Halloween dance? You haven’t noticed the posters plastered all over the school?”
“Harvest dance,” Lexie mutters.
Bria snorts. “Everyone knows they only call it a harvest dance to be politically correct.”
“It’s a whole week before Halloween,” Lexi counters.
I lean forward on the couch. “So, what’s the problem?”
“Attire.” Lexie says it as though it should be obvious. Owen grins.
“What about it?”
“Well,” Bria says, sounding like she’s been waiting for just such an opening, “I said I’m going as a wraith. You know—gauzy black dress, pale face, the works.”
I nod. “Okay. So, what’s the issue?”
Lexie snorts. “It’s not a costume party.”
“Who’s gonna know it’s a costume?” Owen asks.
Bria pelts him with a throw pillow. “Come on!”
“Hey, no offense.” Owen holds his hands up in front of him. “You know I appreciate your stylistic choices. But, let’s be fair: If you show up at a school dance dressed in a wraith costume, do you really think anyone’s gonna bat an eye? Anyone who knows you?”
I have to admit Owen has a point. For our movie-watching evening, Bria is wearing a black jean jacket artfully ripped and held together with an abundance of safety pins. Her shirt is blood red with a black cartoon cat face crossing her abdomen. She wears a tight striped skirt that inches up her ample thighs as she bounces on the couch.
Bria bites her lower lip, a look of contemplation crossing her face. “I suppose you’ve got a point.”
I lean toward Lexie. “So, tell me about this dance.”
She shrugs. “I dunno. It’s like any other dance, I guess. They decorate the cafeteria with streamers and play lame music. Just imagine the dances at your old school, except subtract for extra lameness factor here.”
I press my lips together. I don’t want to admit I’ve never been to a school dance before. I considered it once, back in middle school. I even bought a ticket. But the day before the dance, I realized there was nothing magical about the event. People wouldn’t suddenly accept me just because we were all dressed in pretty clothes. A school dance would just be an extension of the rest of my school life, and I didn’t want to spend any more time around those people than was necessary. But here, things are different. I actually have friends here. And the idea of a dance delights me.
“You wanna go?” Owen asks, bumping my shoulder again.
My insides flutter and I swallow hard. Is Owen actually asking me what I think he’s asking? I want to tell him yes, I’d love to go to the dance with him, but before I get a chance, Bria is talking.
“My mom’s letting me take the car, and I can fit five people. West just told me he’s taking Dana Crawford and that skank is not riding in my car, so we’ve got room for you.”
Reality washes over me. Of course Owen wasn’t asking me specifically to the dance: he was asking me to join them, the group. I squash the growing bubble of disappointment. This isn’t a bad thing. I’m still invited. I’m part of this group. That has to count for something.
“I’d love to come. When is it?”
“Friday,” Bria says.
I stare at her. “Friday? You mean like a week from today Friday?”
“Do you have a dress?” Lexie asks. “I mean, any old dress will do. It can be the dress you wore to your last dance. The beauty of being new is no one’s seen your clothes before.”
I shake my head. “I don’t really have anything.” I’ve long outgrown the dress I bought for the middle school dance.
A smile stretches across her mouth. “Even better. Plan B: We’ll go shopping tomorrow afternoon. There’s a really cool boutique in town.”
I shift on the couch. Lexie volunteering to take me shopping is incredibly nice. I don’t want to turn her down. But… “I think I’ve got to work at the shop tomorrow. Besides,” I say, looking down at my hands, “I don’t have much to spend.”
Lexie waves away my concern with her hand. “No worries. The boutique’s just down the street from Jodi’s store. It shouldn’t take us too long to find you something. And I bet I can swing a discount for you.”
Bria snickers and I get the distinct impression I’m missing something. Be
fore I can ask about it, West enters the room carrying a large bowl full of popcorn and two bags of licorice. “Drinks are in the kitchen. Go help yourselves while I get the movie going.”
The five of us get to our feet and head to the kitchen. Lexie and Bria are the first to the counter and as they pour themselves some pop, Owen touches the back of my arm.
“You’re gonna come, right?” His eyes lock on mine.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I have to ask Jodi first, and I still don’t know if I can afford a dress.”
“Ah, come on. You’ve gotta come.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
Lexie and Bria move away from the counter and Felix steps into their place, but Owen doesn’t move forward. “You’ve gotta be there so you can save a dance for me.”
His blue eyes don’t leave mine and my insides do a flip. So, he doesn’t just want me to come as part of the group. He wants me there. I take in a breath. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll let me come.”
My words are more confident than I am, but my assertion seems good enough for Owen, who finally breaks eye contact and moves to the counter to pour himself some pop.
By the time I make it back out to the living room, the opening credits to the movie are running. I settle back in my spot beside Owen and fix my attention on the screen, but I seem to be the only one who does so. Felix and Owen are discussing how West managed to convince Dana Crawford to agree to go to the dance with him. I think I know who she is—there’s a girl named Dana in my first hour. She’s late every day and is always wearing ridiculously high heels. After throwing out a few aspersions on Dana’s character, Lexie and Bria launch back into wardrobe conversation. Soon, I’m not watching the movie at all; I’m watching everyone as they talk and laugh. And while the atmosphere of the room is light and cheerful, a cloud descends over me. Though I’m here, in the middle of everything, I still feel like a spectator.
I turn my attention back to the TV and try to focus on the movie. The plot appears to have something to do with flying sharks, but I’m not really following it.
Bria and Lexie cross between me and the TV and sit beside me on the couch. There’s really not enough room, and I squeeze closer to Owen in an attempt to accommodate them. The length of my body presses against his. He gives no indication that he minds.
“You’re quiet over here,” Lexie says.
I force a smile. “I guess.”
“You’re not actually interested in the movie, are you?” Bria asks.
I shake my head.
She sighs. “Good. West always chooses the most ridiculous stuff. But it’s his house, so we have to let him choose every once in a while, you know?”
Lexie leans across Bria so she’s close to me. “So, you survived your first week. How are you adjusting to life here? Probably boring compared to where you used to live, huh?”
“Not really.”
Lexie and Bria exchange glances, like they’re sure I’m lying.
“Truly,” I press. I haven’t mentioned how bad things were for me at my old school, and I don’t want to bring it up now. I’m afraid if I tell them about my previously friendless existence, they’ll look at me differently. At the very least, they’ll want to know why I was such a social outcast, and I’m not sure I can even begin to explain it to them. “I’m liking how close-knit things seem to be here. How friendly people are.”
“Yeah, like how Crystal and Bridget have rolled out the welcome wagon for you.” Lexie rolls her eyes.
“Please. Their attempts at mean-girling are weak at best. Believe me.” I bite the inside of my cheek as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Lexie’s eyebrows cinch together and Bria’s lips part like she’s going to ask me what I mean. I step over her unsaid words. “Besides, what do I care about those two when I’ve got you guys? You’re clearly superior to them in every way.” I force a big grin, hoping my compliment will be enough to distract them from my last statement.
Owen shifts so he’s looking at me, his arm moving so it rests behind my back. “Come on, now. Don’t say things like that to Lexie. Her opinion of herself is swollen enough without you adding fuel to the fire.”
Lexie lunges across Bria and me to swat at Owen, who fends her off easily. “Come on, Owen, admit it. I’m the coolest person you know!”
“Speaking of cool,” Bria says as the two of us press ourselves backward into the cushions of the couch to avoid Lexie’s flailing arms. “How is it living with Jodi?”
My stomach sinks at the mention of my living arrangements. After Lexie asked me why I moved in with Jodi on my first day, no one else has brought it up, and I haven’t volunteered the information. I don’t know why, but the idea of telling them about my mom scares me. I don’t know how I’ll handle it if they start looking at me with pity. One of the main reasons I’m not a wreck is because I’m not constantly reminded of my loss. If I have to see it in their eyes each time they look at me, I won’t be able to deal with it.
If Bria notices anything odd in my expression, she ignores it. “I mean, it’s not like I really know your aunt or anything, but she just seems like she’s a pretty awesome person.”
Owen’s hand twitches, sandwiched between my back and the couch, distracting me from Bria’s question and my own thoughts. Lexie finally gives up on her attack and Owen turns his attention back to the guys, but he doesn’t attempt to move his hand from behind me. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool, I guess.” I indicate tonight’s outfit: a dark blue cap-sleeve shirt overlaid with black lace and a pair of black skinny jeans that have a matte shine to them. “She helped me pick this out. It was in some boxes of clothes she was gonna give away.”
Lexie gives a low whistle. “I’ve always appreciated your aunt’s sense of style. That shirt is totally hot on you, by the way—I meant to say something earlier. Hey, if there’s anything left after you go through those boxes, do you think she’d let me poke around through them?”
The look on Lexie’s face is so eager I can’t help smiling. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“Ooh! Me too!” Bria tugs at the hem of her skirt, which is riding up again. “Not that she and I are the same size. But maybe there’s something I can use.”
Bria leans forward as she launches into a description of how she once altered a dress she found at a thrift store. I lean forward too, reluctant to move away from Owen’s warm hand. It feels unnatural for me to be resting against the back cushions when no one else is. I expect Owen to pull his hand away immediately; his body is angled toward Felix and West, who are sitting on the adjacent couch, and I’m sure it’s been annoying to have his arm twisted behind him. But when Owen finally does move his hand, he rests it on the outer edge of his thigh and it brushes gently against my leg any time one of us shifts. I try to pay attention to Bria, who is now talking about her forays into sewing her own clothes, but I’m distracted by the tiny fireworks that ignite my belly whenever Owen’s pinky rubs against the material of my jeans. And later, after Bria gets up to get more pop and settles on the other couch between West and Felix, I don’t scoot over into the space she vacated. And Owen doesn’t complain.
Chapter Eleven
I resolve to ask Jodi about the dance first thing in the morning. I don’t get home until around midnight, so I set my alarm for eight so I won’t oversleep. The shop opens at nine on Saturdays, and Jodi likes to get in half an hour early.
In the morning, I dress in jeans and one of Jodi’s cast-off shirts that’s somewhat more low-cut than I was expecting, and head downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. Jodi’s voice reaches me before I enter the kitchen and my stomach sinks. She’s on the phone and she doesn’t sound happy.
She barely acknowledges me as I dart around her to grab something to eat. Her brow is furrowed and her lips pursed. I take my bowl of cereal into the dining room, keeping my ears attuned to her conversation. I’m not sure, but after a few minutes, it seems like there may have been a problem with a delivery she was expecting.
The car ride to the shop is silent. Jodi doesn’t even turn on the radio. At one point, I almost ask what’s going on, but I stop myself. If she wanted to tell me, she would say something.
When we arrive at the shop, Jodi immediately goes to the back room, perhaps to check stock. She doesn’t give me a task, so I find a feather duster and start dusting the shelves. Jodi doesn’t emerge from the stock room until it’s time to open the store. To my surprise, there are people waiting to be let in. In the time I’ve spent here so far, I’ve never seen more than one customer in the shop at a time.
It’s a little after nine when my cell vibrates. I pull it from my pocket to see that Lexie has sent a text: What did Jodi say?
I bite the inside of my cheek as I type my reply: Haven’t asked yet.
“Krissa,” Jodi calls as I hit “send.” I quickly shove the phone back into my pocket. “Could you help Mrs. Houston with the teas?”
I nod and approach the person Jodi is indicating, a small woman with straight white hair and narrow shoulders. “What can I help you find?”
It takes an eon to help Mrs. Houston identify a half dozen teas to help her with various ailments, and when she goes to the register to pay, another customer calls me over to help choose the right bracelet for his niece’s birthday. It seems every time there is a brief lull, Jodi is on the phone with her distributor again, trying to work out a solution to the shipping error.
It’s eleven when my cell vibrates again. The only customer in the store at the moment is at the register, paying, so I don’t feel too bad about checking the message.
It’s from Lexie again. Have you asked her yet? I’ll be there in five.
My stomach clenches. She’s on her way here? I can’t very well tell her not to come if she’s already en route, but between the delivery problem and all the customers, I haven’t had an opportunity to ask Jodi yet. It’s not that I think she’ll say no; I’m sure she’ll let me go. She didn’t bat an eye when I asked about going to West’s house for movie night. She didn’t even ask if his parents would be home—which they weren’t. The thing I’m afraid to ask about is cash for a dress. Jodi is already doing so much for me by just taking me in. She shut down the shop for the whole week when she helped me get things sorted after my mom died, but she hasn’t mentioned it once. She gives me a few dollars every morning to buy lunch at school. What if I ask for money and she thinks I’m ungrateful for everything she’s already doing for me?