by JB Caine
I pulled the binoculars away. The light was so bright now, I didn’t need them anymore.
I opened my eyes just as the sponsor was taking his receipt from the girl. He made his way toward the door and Blake Freeman stood, tears streaming down his face. He stepped into the sponsor’s path, and though I could not hear their words, I could sense the topic of their discussion. The sponsor reached out a hand and placed it on Blake’s shoulder. The two men walked out together.
I felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I turned to look at John, whose mouth stood agape as he stared at me.
“Well done,” he said after a moment.
“Thanks,” I said, feeling slightly conflicted but also accomplished. I picked up the doughnut and bit into its iced goodness. I had definitely earned it.
I was still feeling pretty accomplished the next day at school. My experience with John was really causing me to re-examine my black-and-white point of view as far as influence and free will was concerned. It was better for people to make their own decisions, to choose the right path on their own. But what if their judgement was impaired? What if they weren’t able to see the right path, or lacked the resolve to take it, even if they wanted to? It was a lot to think about.
It’s not like I was going to go around micromanaging everyone’s life. But some people might need help. Was that my obligation? Is that what these gifts were for?
I saw that Treigh had reached our lunch bench ahead of me. He was deeply engrossed in scrolling through his social media, pretending to read it as a way of hiding his distraction.
Even after I sat down beside him, Treigh was uncharacteristically quiet. “This boy’s really got me twisted.”
I placed my hand on his leg. “I’m sorry. Why do you think he’s being so aloof?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he’s ever been in a relationship, and maybe he doesn’t know how to do it.”
“Do you think he’s afraid to be Out?”
“Maybe. But you’d never know it from the way he talks on the phone. And it’s not like it’s some great big secret. He joined GSA! He wears the wristband everywhere. I mean, people KNOW.”
“Do you think he’s not sure how you feel? Maybe he’s afraid of rejection.”
“If I flirted with this boy any harder, I’d get arrested.”
“But you’re flirtatious all the time. Maybe he thinks you’re like that with everyone.”
Treigh gave me a flat look, ending my commentary. He evidently thought he’d made his case clear as crystal. But I suspected otherwise. I’d seen how garishly flirty Treigh was. Michael might have no idea how much Treigh liked him, because it took a long time to get past Treigh’s charming defenses enough that you got to see the raw, unvarnished guy beneath all that designer fashion.
I stared hard at Michael across the courtyard. He had snuck a couple of looks at Treigh, and then turned a quarter-turn, probably so he could see us out of the corner of his eye without risking getting caught. I hated to see Treigh this torn up. He already had trust issues. Either Michael was blind to Treigh’s interest, or he was playing an unfair game of hard-to-get. Regardless, I knew that if I wanted to, I could change that.
The idea hit me all at once. If Michael did, indeed, already have feelings for Treigh, what harm could come of giving him a teensy boost of courage? They would both be happier with a little nudge in the right direction. And if he didn’t have feelings for Treigh, at least Treigh would know and the games would stop ripping his heart apart.
“I’m going to go get you a cinnamon roll,” I announced. “Stay here.”
“You are an absolute angel,” Treigh said sadly, resting his head on his arm on the back of the bench. “Sugar therapy to the rescue.”
I patted his cheek and walked across the courtyard and into the lunchroom. I turned to look back out the window once I was out of Treigh’s line of sight. Instead, I focused my attention on Michael. He had noticed that Treigh was now alone, and looked quickly around before turning back toward his circle of friends who were totally engrossed in video games on their phones.
I closed my eyes and lifted the magical binoculars.
I focused on Michael, on his heart. In my mind, a dark sphere appeared at the center of his shirt. I increased the magnification, and saw that the mass was a dark bird with its head under its wing. I knew this represented his fear. I imagined the bird’s feathers changing, one by one, from near-black to a bright yellow. As the last feather transformed, the bird pulled its head from beneath its wing and looked around. Michael mirrored this movement, and his gaze landed on Treigh, whose eyes were still closed in the November sun.
The bird cheeped and stretched its sunny wings outward. It hopped forward onto the table in front of Michael and cheeped loudly at him, nagging him to take action. He stood slowly, and the bird took triumphant flight into the sky. As it climbed out of sight, Michael moved in hesitant steps toward the bench.
I opened my eyes. Michael’s back was to me, but I saw Treigh react to what must have been an awkward greeting. The smile that spread across Treigh’s face was like watching the sun rise, and I felt its warmth to the tips of my toes. Somehow, I didn’t think Treigh was going to need that cinnamon bun anymore.
I got the full report on the way to the parking lot a couple of hours later.
“Oh, sweet Lord, Lia, I cannot believe this is happening!” Treigh was gushing about how Michael had come up to him at lunch. “I think maybe, that whole time, he was waiting for me to be alone, you know? Because you were gone less than two minutes, and he came right over and said hi!”
“What else did he say?” I was on a high of my own. I had helped create this joy for my friend, even if he didn’t know it.
“Not much at first, to be honest. It’s like hello was the only part he planned. It was actually kind of cute.”
“I’m really happy for you, Treigh. Now at least you can feel okay about moving forward a step or two, right?”
“Exactly. I just have to keep my Libra-ness in check. It’s like the floodgates have been opened, but I don’t want to lose my mind and start picking out china patterns. I don’t want to scare the man. He already seemed a little shell-shocked that he had taken the first step.”
I laughed. “Wise choice. Take it slowly, or at least normally. Clearly, he just couldn’t deny his feelings anymore.”
“Me either,” Treigh grinned. “I think I might ask him out on a proper date in a couple of days.”
We had arrived at Treigh’s car, and I could tell he wanted to hurry and leave campus, probably in the hopes that Michael would call.
“I think that’s a great idea. Text me later?”
“I will, I will. Ahh! I cannot beLIEVE this day!” He gave me a tight squeeze and jumped into his vehicle. I waved and watched him back out of his parking space.
I had to admit that I was feeling pretty good about myself after seeing that look on Treigh. I still had some reservations about the fact that I had nudged things along, but if Michael had really just lacked the littlest bit of courage, then what was the harm? It wasn’t like what had happened with Alex, because Alex never had any intention of approaching me without having been influenced to do so. Honestly, I had probably just saved them both a week of wasted time, and Treigh a week of agony, wondering about Michael’s intentions. There was really no downside.
Still, there was something nagging at me. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
I sat on my front porch, enjoying Florida’s version of late fall and working on some Trig homework. My phone started buzzing. I looked down to see a series of texts coming through from Gemma.
hey, trina n i had an idea
do u wanna have a friendsgiving next wk?
not on thxgiving, but maybe weds?
we could do it @ my house.
what do u think?
Friendsgiving? I had heard of it, but I had thought it was just something some tv show had invented. But sure, why not?
Sou
nds good.
And then I had a thought that set my stomach doing flips.
Whos coming? Can I invite ppl?
not sure who yet? who do u want 2 invite?
Treigh and maybe his +1
yeah thats fine. I should tell u that alex will prb b there. Is that ok?
Ugh. Kill me.
Ill be fine. Just warn me if hes bringing a date.
Kk this will b fun! I promise!
This was followed by a ridiculous and random series of emojis. This might be the king of bad ideas. But if Gemma was still calling me to do things, it at least meant that our friendship wasn’t based on my influence. Somehow, the thought of that brought me some comfort.
My phone buzzed again, but this time it was the ringer, not a text. Aunt Kitty was calling. As much as I had to tell her, I thought I’d better wait until I finished my homework, so I let it go to voicemail.
After homework turned into after dinner.
After dinner turned into after I had a chance to relax and watch a couple of streaming shows. And then it was too late to call. It’s rude to call someone, like an adult someone, after ten p.m., right? Or maybe I was avoiding telling Aunt Kitty about my meeting with John. In my gut, I knew she would disapprove in her characteristic non-judgmental way. Still, I had a lot to think about. I wasn’t sure exactly where I stood on this whole Arcana faction business, and frankly, I wasn’t sure I even needed to take a side. Why couldn’t I just stay neutral? Uninvolved? That seemed like the best course of action to me. I didn’t want her raining on my parade and telling me that was impractical.
Treigh wasn’t in Trig the next morning, and he also hadn’t texted me to tell me he was staying home. I sent him a message saying that he’d better explain himself before lunchtime, and made my way to English. When I got there, Gemma met me at the door, brimming with excitement.
“So it looks like we have eight people coming to Friendsgiving. Ten if Treigh and his date--it was a date, right?--come. Here’s a list of dishes...what do you want to bring? We don’t have anyone with food allergies, as far as I know. You don’t have any, do you?”
I blinked at her barrage of words. So. Many. Words.
I looked at the list. It looked like all the things that were actually fun to cook had already been taken. I wrote my name down to bring a vegetable side dish.
Alex hadn’t listed a date. I breathed a sigh of relief. It would still be awkward, but at least it wouldn’t be actual psychological torture.
“What does one actually DO at Friendsgiving?” I asked Gemma. “I don’t know how to dress or what to expect.”
“Oh, it’s literally just a meal. Everyone arrives maybe 30 minutes before we eat, so maybe like 5:30, and then we have a nice meal and sit around being grateful for one another.”
“That sounds pretty easy. So just sort of nice dinner clothes?”
“Exactly. Maybe a step up from regular clothes, but not super fancy.”
“Okay, let me know if you need any help or anything.”
“I’ve totally got it handled, but thanks!”
Lunch was truly boring, sitting alone on the bench, but on the bright side, I did manage to finish my English homework, which would have been impossible if Treigh had been there to talk with. He texted me about halfway through to let me know why he was absent:
Hey, hunty. Decided 2 stay home today bc I’m nervous about my black belt test and I want 2 practice.
When is that?
Thursday. UR coming, right?
Wouldn’t miss it.
Kk. Call me later!
Will do! Xoxo
And I did call him later, and told him all about Friendsgiving, and the fact that he absolutely had to come with me so I wouldn’t have to face Alex alone. He said he’d talk to Michael about it, but it was a week and a half away, so he might just wait a day or two to mention it, since they had really just started talking to each other for real yesterday. Fair enough. I hung up and went to raid the kitchen for a snack.
Chapter 22
When I got back to my room, I checked my phone and discovered a text from Aunt Kitty. DANG. I had forgotten to call her back. The text was a simple three-word directive: Unpack a box.
Ah. She had told me that I needed to maintain my mental closet, and so far, I’d only paid attention to it once. I guess I was going to need to work on my mental discipline when it came to things like that. I sent back a heart emoji and a gift box emoji to acknowledge her advice. I wasn’t really ready to talk about my internal struggle to figure out where I fit into the Arcana philosophically, but she was the only person I fully trusted to help me understand my new skillset.
I propped myself up in bed, closed my eyes, and pictured the shelves of boxes. There were more of them than I remembered, but I couldn’t read all of the labels for some reason. I scanned the boxes I could read, trying to decide which one to study.
I thought back to the sad little girl I’d seen by the graveyard on Halloween night. She was the first ghost I’d ever seen, and she had been so clear, so strong, that I had mistaken her for a living, breathing girl. I knew almost nothing about the ability to see and communicate with spirits. Maybe now was a good time to learn.
I opened up the box and pulled out a pair of retro cats-eye glasses. Stylish! Now to figure out how to use them properly. I put the glasses on and opened my eyes. As had been the case with the binoculars, I could feel the weight of the glasses on my face, though they were invisible to ordinary eyes.
“Now what?” I said out loud. Despite living in one of the most haunted cities in the United States, I had no idea where actual ghosts hung out, as opposed to just where tourist attractions had popped up. I didn’t really feel like going out, especially with night falling, but I was pretty sure there weren’t any ghosts here in my house, certainly not with Aunt Kitty’s wards up in full force.
I decided to go to the only place I personally could guarantee there was at least one ghost: back to the Huguenot Cemetery. The drive wasn’t a particularly long one, and I was hoping to score some easy parking at the Visitor Center. I threw on a hoodie and headed down to the car.
I plopped myself into the seat and twisted to buckle my seat belt, which I had a little trouble with, because my oversized hoodie kept getting in my way. I straightened up and about jumped out of my skin.
A woman was sitting in my passenger seat. She was wearing white pants and a coral blouse, looking like she had come from, as she would call it, “the hairdresser.”
My grandmother.
I didn’t have many concrete memories of her, because she had died when I was six, but she looked exactly as I remembered her. She stared straight ahead with her head cocked to one side, like she was listening to something.
“Uh...Grandmother?”
She turned her head slowly to face me, looking somewhat startled that I had spoken. “You can see me?”
I nodded, unable to find the right words for this occasion.
“Well, it’s about time,” she said, and as she spoke, I noticed that her lips were slightly out of synch with the words I was hearing, like watching an old Godzilla movie like the ones my mother loved, where the dialogue had been dubbed with English over the original Japanese. “I see the Moon has found its way to you.”
I nodded again. She seemed moderately annoyed, though I couldn’t really tell why. Maybe she felt she had been disturbed somehow when the Moon card had somehow managed to transport itself out of her grave and into my aunt’s grimoire for me to find.
“Why are you here now? Did I disturb you by awakening the card?”
She continued to stare out the dashboard as if watching some action unfold on the hood of my car. The effect was a little chilling. “I’ve been trying to talk to you since you drew down the moon. I don’t have much concept of time, but it took you long enough to hear me. I can only manifest enough to talk to you for short periods at a time.”
“I, uh, I’m sorry, Grandmother. I didn’t know how to hear you befor
e now.”
She thought that over and seemed to find that explanation acceptable. “I can’t get into the house,” she said simply.
“Yeah, Aunt Kitty set up wards a long time ago.”
“Well, I suppose that makes sense. Can’t leave the place unprotected. Certainly your mother wasn’t about to learn to cast them. I guess it’s good that someone did, though.”
“Grandmother,” I began, “I have an awful lot of questions about the card and about Selene, and everything that’s been going on. Is that why you’re here?”
“You need to know about the other Arcana. About what they are capable of.”
“I’ve met two: the Empress and the Tower.”
She nodded. “Mary will help you. She and I didn’t get along very well, but she looked after Kitty well enough, and she can be trusted.”
“But the Tower can’t?”
“I do not know this Tower. The man who held the card in my lifetime was trustworthy, as long as it suited his interests to be.”
“That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement,” I commented.
Suddenly she fixed her gaze on me with a disturbing intensity. Her eyes turned as dark as the night sky. “You must beware the Magician. He is powerful and ruthless, and will not stop trying to harness your will. You must not give in to him, no matter the cost.”
“I...uh...how will I…”
She began to fade. “Do not...you must…” and then she was gone, and I was chilled, not from the outside temperature, but from a cold that seemed to radiate from inside my bones.
It was time for me to woman up and quit avoiding my aunt’s calls and messages. As soon as I was back in the house, I mentally took off the ghost glasses and put them back in the box in my mind’s closet. Then I dialed Aunt Kitty’s number.
