While Andrew and I stared at each other, Sam cleared her throat. “What are you doing tonight, Andrew?”
“Not really sure. I was headed upstairs when I smelled the smoke. To see a friend.”
Girl friend or guy friend, I wondered.
“You know Tate? The RA on the third floor?” he asked.
Sam and I nodded. Everyone knew Tate Winthrop. Even if he weren’t a gazillionth generation Winthrop, everyone would still know him. There weren’t many six-foot-three white guys with dreadlocks down their back on our little college campus. Sam’s had a crush on Tate since the beginning of last year. He was a pretty big reason why we still lived in a double room as juniors. I couldn’t imagine Tate and Andrew being friends. Andrew seemed too quiet, and a little uptight.
“You and Tate should come to the party on Elm Court tonight.” A glimmer of a plan twinkled in her eyes. “Unless RAs aren’t allowed to go to off campus parties.”
“We can. If everyone there is legal, it’s not a problem.” He smiled at Sam. “Are you legal?” he asked me.
“She is. We both are.” Sam was lying. My birthday wasn’t until late November; hers was in January.
It would be easy for him to bust us by asking for IDs, but he didn’t.
“Okay, maybe I’ll see you there. No more smudging, ladies.” He didn’t make a move to leave. Instead, we stood there awkwardly. At least I felt awkward. Sam looked delighted at her newfound connection to Tate.
Torn between wanting him to get out of my room and throwing him down on my bed, I once again became mute. Charming.
“Okay,” I managed to say finally. Parrots had more interesting contributions to conversations. “I’ll be in a corner with a Solo cup.”
“Bring Tate!” Sam called out as the door shut behind him.
Yep. Awkward.
Four
Had Andrew bothered to show up at the party, he would have found me in a corner with a bottle of cider. I doubt he would have recognized me without the red cup.
Sam covered up her disappointment about Tate’s no-show by chatting up every guy there who wasn’t mashing his body or lips against a girl. Or guy. An endless parade of toads marched over to my corner with her encouragement. Not actual toads. Or frogs. Although one of them had buggy eyes and smelled like a pond, so he might have been a real toad in disguise. My grandmother’s words of dating wisdom came to mind.
“You have to kiss a lot of toads to find your Prince Charming.”
This from a woman who met and married a boy at seventeen. How many toads could she have kissed in western Massachusetts? Her town didn’t even have a stop sign.
Most of the toad-guys had names beginning with E’s: Ethan, Eli and Ev were followed by Eddie and Edgar, who didn’t appreciate being asked if he was named for Poe.
Over loud music, Poe sounds a lot like poo. Apparently.
No Prince Charming tonight.
I finished my cider and looked for Sam. I located her in the kitchen talking to a short, skinny guy, who was enthusiastically telling her all about his ninja costume for Halloween.
“I’m working on the suction cups for the hands and feet.”
“Suction cups?” Sam faked interest.
“For climbing buildings.” He didn’t say ‘duh’, but it was implied.
“Oh, right! Look, it’s Madison!” She hugged me and whispered, “Help me.”
By the time we broke apart, Ninja Boy had moved on to sharing his ninja plans with the girl to his left.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“They might still show.”
“It’s almost one o’clock. They’re not coming. And neither is Prince Charming.”
“Were you expecting him tonight? Halloween is a couple weeks away. It’s too early for men in tights.”
I laughed. “Not by much. A few more weeks and this town will be covered with them.”
She shuddered. “I wish you were joking.”
New Orleans had Mardi Gras; Salem had Halloween—a month-long party downtown with every sexy version of a normal costume possible. Last year we saw nine women dressed as the sexy version of the Supreme Court. In hot pants.
“Me too,” I agreed.
“We need to start planning our costumes.” She tugged me out of the kitchen and down the narrow hall where the parade of toads were lined up with their beers waiting for the bathroom. At least they were housebroken.
Sam continued plotting out her costume as we walked home. The night had turned cold and I wished I had a coat instead of a sweater.
“Shouldn’t you be picking our robes for a coven gathering in the woods or something? I don’t think Wiccans approve of sexy cat costumes.”
“I’m multi-denominational when it comes to Halloween.”
“No candy at coven gatherings?”
She chuckled, knowing she’d been busted. “And zero cute guys.”
“No guy witches?”
“There are some, but most of them are ancient and smell of patchouli.”
We both stuck out our tongues.
“Maybe instead of Prince Charming, we’ll meet a handsome monster, wicked cool Phantom of the Opera, or smoking hot Beast.” She sighed.
“Stalkers and kidnappers? Are you sure you didn’t watch princess movies?” I asked.
“You have no romance. Zero. You’re too young to be so cynical. And too pretty.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Stop doing that.”
“What?”
“Dismissing every compliment you’re given. You’re gorgeous. Like a totally hot Audrey Hepburn.”
“Meaning flat chested and pointy?"
“No, petite. With the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you earlier, I think Andrew approved.”
It was my turn to sigh. “I doubt it. He didn’t even show at the party.”
“He and Tate probably had other plans. Like playing D&D. Or Magic.” She giggled and sighed. “Can you imagine?”
I could, and the thought of gorgeous guys being into role playing games was both ridiculous and kind of hot, depending on the role play.
“You don’t think they have girlfriends, do you? I’ve never seen Tate with anyone, but that doesn’t really mean anything.” Her uncertainty was unfamiliar.
“That would suck if they did.”
“Tate’s totally dreamy. He’s like a modern day philosopher. Did you know he rides a skateboard?”
“Nothing says wicked smart philosopher like an old school long board.” I giggled. “You have it bad.”
She sighed again and nodded. “I don’t know why, but it’s so bad it’s good. We might need to crash his Halloween party this year and charm him.”
“We?”
“Trust me, this is our year, Maddy. I can feel it in my bones.” She tapped her head.
I looked up and found a star in the clear sky and made a wish.
Please let Andrew be single.
And not be into Dungeons & Dragons.
Thank you.
Five
Andrew sat across from me at seminar the following week. Hamilton took his old seat at the far end of the table, out of range for whispered or mumbled slurs. Unfortunately, that didn’t keep him from making asshat comments for the whole group to hear. Andrew didn’t contribute to the discussion of the witch trials, and after last week’s outburst, I kept my comments to a minimum.
My only interaction with Andrew during class was when he loaned me a pen after I couldn’t find one in my bag.
When class ended, I found myself standing next to Hamilton.
“This class blows,” he said.
Not thinking before speaking, I asked, “Why are you even in this class?”
Hamilton’s gaze landed on my boobs, which were thankfully protected beneath at least three layers of clothing. “Duh. Wicked easy A, like that Hester chick. Dude, it’s about New England—I’m from here. And it’s in English. No brainer.”
My jaw should have hit the floor with how fast and low i
t dropped open. Hamilton’s eyes held lust as he stared at my open mouth.
Unbelievable. I clamped my mouth shut and crossed my arms. “Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath and stepped around him. Unfortunately, I should have held my breath. A wall of Axe body spray assaulted me as I passed him. Gag.
“Can you believe that idiot?” a deep, rumble of a voice asked once I’d hit the fresh air of the hallway.
I snorted and tried to cover it with a laugh, but it was more of a snort-cough. I coughed to cover up the snort-laugh-cough.
Andrew chuckled and held open the door for me.
Wow. No guy had ever done that for me before.
He matched his stride to mine as we exited and crossed the quad. I stared at his Chucks and long legs in worn jeans as we walked along together, trying to think of something to say.
“How was the party on Saturday?” he asked.
“Okay.” I shrugged.
“Sorry we didn’t show up. Tate’s planning his Halloween party and roped me into helping him.”
Tate’s Halloween parties were legend. His family owned a summer house near Marblehead, a gigantic stone, Gothic place with a wide lawn leading down to the rocky beach.
Or so I’d heard. I’d never been invited to his parties before—neither had Sam, but she knew every detail.
“Not into Halloween?” I asked, hoping to sound interested but not desperate.
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I get a little tired of all the mayhem downtown every year. Same witch hats and vomit in the streets gets a little old after a couple of decades.”
“Are you from here?”
“Yeah. Well, kind of. I grew up here, but my dad insisted I attend private school in Boston, so I spent most of the year with my dad in the city. I think he really just wanted me out of Salem.”
My eyebrows rose in a silent question.
“Long, boring story. Really boring fighting parents kind of story.” His voice had changed and he didn’t meet my eyes.
There was more, but we’d reached the campus center where I was meeting Sam. I reached inside my bag and offered him his pen.
“Keep it,” he said with a smile. “Consider it a gift.”
I smiled and thanked him.
Maybe not weird, but Andrew wasn’t typical.
***
Saturday felt more like summer than the first day of fall. A hazy sun and humid air greeted me on my morning jog around campus. Jogging was girl code for walking and drinking coffee with Sam. I sipped my extra-large skinny vanilla latte and listened to her share the details of last night’s date with some guy from her statistics class.
“Everything was about the odds and percentages of relationships working out. He offered to show me a spreadsheet.”
“Sounds like a keeper. No second date?”
“Maybe. He was a pretty decent kisser.”
“You kissed him?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure. Statistically, the odds were in his favor he’d be a good kisser.”
“Math is weird.” I laughed and picked up my pace.
“Good Goddess! What’s with the actual jogging?” She caught up with me. “We don’t really run, remember?”
“I thought maybe we could benefit from some physical exertion.”
“You need to get some action. And soon.”
“Me running a 5K is more likely to happen before that.”
“What’s going on with Wildes? My intuition tells me he likes you.”
I’d already told her about our chat after class, and of course she had witnessed the smudging incident. “He’s had chances to ask me out and hasn’t yet.”
“He seems shy. Maybe he’s been waiting for you to make the first move?”
“In what fairy tale does the princess ever make the first move?”
She stared at me blankly.
“Right, you wouldn’t know.” I sighed.
“You’re just in a slump. You should come to the Mabon celebration tonight.”
“Lots of dating material amongst the old and patchouli scented?”
“Probably not, but some gratitude and apple pie might help.”
“Nah, but thanks. I’m going to stay home and study.”
***
Sam asked me to go with her again after dinner, but I stuck to my plans of studying and maybe watching a few hours of Doctor Who with Grace down the hall. When I dug in my bag for a highlighter, my hand brushed against a small plastic bag. The love spell.
I pulled it out and walked over to the trash can, fully planning to toss it in, but my hand froze.
I had nothing to lose. Andrew had landed in the friend zone. There had to be a guy out there somewhere between Gropemaster Hamilton and Nice-but-Elusive-Wildes.
I opened up the package and poured the contents on my desk. Reading over the instructions, I decided it seemed simple enough. I was supposed to cleanse myself to be in the right mindset. Smudging counted as cleansing, so I skipped that step even though I hadn’t showered today or changed out of my jogging clothes. It wasn’t like I’d worked up a sweat this morning or anything.
I still wasn’t sure why pink peppercorns, but decided to step out of my skepticism box. After I made a circle with them on the desk, I put the love potion oil on the red votive candle while thinking of what I wanted in a man.
Smart.
Funny.
Chivalrous.
Cute, but not a narcissist.
Kind.
Fit.
Andrew’s story about Allison had made me laugh, but I put a saucer under the candle just in case. After the smudging incident, I didn’t want him to discover me in the middle of a love spell induced fire.
While the candle burned, I kept reading. I was supposed to have something personal if the spell was intended to work on a specific person. Next to the candle was the pen I’d borrowed from Andrew earlier in the week. I could use that. Was it personal enough? Was Andrew my intended target? I imagined myself with a bow and arrow aiming it straight at his chest. Nothing to lose. I put the pen inside of the circle and lit the candle. I repeated my list, adding in dark hair and pale skin.
All that was left was a piece of red ribbon and the heart pendant, which were to be worn out in public, preferably at a large gathering of people. According to the instructions, if I dropped the charm, my love would appear.
By magic!
At least the silver heart was pretty. I strung it on the ribbon and set it in my bowl of other jewelry.
I didn’t feel anything different. No gust of wind burst through the window. Nothing tingled or stood up on end. The oil and the candle made the room smell nice, but that was about it. Sighing, I texted Grace to come down when she was ready.
I crumpled up and threw away the spell instructions. I didn’t know what to do about the candle and peppercorns and hoped she wouldn’t notice if I turned off my desk lamp.
Three episodes of David Tenant as the Tenth Doctor and a giant bowl of popcorn later, the candle sputtered out with a blue flame and a few sparks, leaving the room in darkness except for the glow from my laptop. Grace and I both jumped.
“What the hell!” She glanced at the desk, and then at me. “What kind of candle was that?”
“Some random candle Sam had lying around,” I answered nonchalantly, hoping she wouldn’t notice the peppercorns and pen.
“Well, I think it’s a sign to call it a night.” With a yawn and a stretch, she peeled herself off my bed.
When she opened the door to leave, loud voices carried inside from the hall. One of those voices was Sam’s. The other two voices were male.
No.
No.
No.
One of the voices belonged to the owner of the pen currently sitting on my desk.
Crap!
There wasn’t time to slam the door shut and pretend I wasn’t here.
I leapt out of bed and swept the candle, pen, and saucer into my drawer, scattering warm wax and peppercorns everywhere. I was on my h
ands and knees picking them up when I heard Sam’s voice.
“Maddy? Are you in here? I just saw Grace leave. Hello? Why is the room dark?” She flipped the switch to the hideous overhead fluorescent light, which hummed and flickered to life.
While wondering if I could crawl completely under my desk and hide, it dawned on me my ass was probably sticking up in the air facing the door.
Great.
“Hey, there you are.” Sam’s and two other sets of footsteps crossed the threshold.
Even better.
Tate and Andrew were with her.
Too big to fit under the desk, I shuffled back and knelt, brushing my hair out of my face with the hand not holding peppercorns. “Hey.”
“You okay?” Andrew asked, looking both confused and amused.
“Oh, fine. I dropped something and was trying to find it.”
“In the dark?” Sam asked.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Did you find it?” Andrew asked.
“No, I’ll look later.” I attempted to straighten my sweatshirt over my running tights. I had to be a mess.
“What’s in your hand?” Tate asked.
“Nothing.” I shoved it behind my back like a toddler.
“Come on, share,” Andrew teased.
They were just peppercorns, not magic beans. “Peppercorns.”
“Random seasonings?” Andrew smirked and tilted his head. “Stealing from the dining hall?”
“Sam steals spoons,” I said to change the subject. I blushed and dumped the contents of my hand into the trash. “What have you three been doing?” I ignored Sam’s scowl.
Andrew’s attention stayed on the trashcan for a few beats before he replied, “We ran into Sam out front. She’s been telling us all about Mabon.”
“It’s fascinating,” Tate added, keeping his eyes on Sam.
She gazed back at him, a faint blush tinting her cheeks. “You should have come, Maddy. It was incredible—out in the woods and lit only with candles. I brought you some totally amazing apple crisp.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Tate was just inviting us to their Halloween party next weekend. Doesn’t that sound wicked cool?” she asked, attempting and almost succeeding in sounding aloof.
“You’ll come, won’t you?” Andrew asked sincerely. “You really should. It’s a great party.”