Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) (12 page)

I keep hoping that one day he’ll be himself again and we can have a long talk. But I won’t hold my breath for that.

Thanksgiving break goes by way too fast and in the blink of an eye we’re back in school
.
Adam and I are still in weird mode, stepping softly around each other, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak.

The air is fused with electricity when he’s near and I can’t help but feel excited when I see his face. Sometimes, I catch him staring at me and sometimes he catches me staring at him. It’s our own personal cat and mouse staring game. There’
s definitely somet
hing going on between us.

Things sta
y this way for a while—the
unspoken
relationship between Adam and I
.  B
efore long, everyone around us starts to see it. I can tell by the little smirks from Bernie and Kale when Adam comes around.

I pull on my
hoodie
to block out the cool December breeze. December’s my favorite month. Not only because of my birthday, but because it’s the time of year when Summerville looks its best.

The town’s people decorate anything they can
get their hands on for Christmas.
There isn’t a bare tree in town—lights and ribbons as far as I can see. Every building has
some form of Christmas wreath, garland, or
bow draped across it. It’s a happy time
for everyone around me, which
makes me happy too
.

“So, what do you want for Christmas?” Kale leans on the lunch bench smirking at Bernie.

“Why? Are you going to buy me something?” she flirts back.

“Buy you something? I got something for you right here,” he grabs the crotch of his pants.

Rolling my eyes, I take a bite out of my apple. One more sexual innuendo between the two of them and I’ll steal her car, drive to Charleston, and jump from the Cooper River Bridge—I swear it.

“
Perv
!”
Bernie says, as she giggles and playfully smacks his arm.

“What? I’m only kidding around. Damn, that hurt,” he rubs his arm.

“Ah, you want me to kiss it and make it better?” she says sweetly.

“I got something you can
ki
…ouch, damn Bern, chill!” he rubs his arm again.

Cooper River Bride, here I come!

Turning my head, I catch Adam staring at me—this time he doesn’t turn away. His hard eyes beat into mine as he peers up from beneath his dark hair. T
he buil
t-up tension between us seems
to explode
in our moment of eye contact. I struggle to look away, but again I’m caught in his trap.

“Hello?
Earth to Mage?”
Bernie jokes.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“What do you want Santa to bring
you
this year, little girl?” she says, as if she’s talking to a toddler.

I
shake my head and lift my brow like I’m concerned about her sanity.

“Hmmm…I guess a
Christmas tree
would be nice
. I haven’t had one since my grandmother was alive.”

“Ah, w
hen did she die?”
she frowns.

“She
died when I was five,” I shrug and take another bite of my apple
.

It’s strange talking about my grandmother’s death since I see her on a daily basis. I sometimes forget she’s dead.

“Oh my G
od!
You haven’t had a Chri
stmas tree since you were five—t
hat sucks
,
Mage! You should put one up this year.”

“I might.”

The attention turns away from me, thankfully.

“What about you
,
Adam? What do you want for Christmas this yea
r?” Bernie asks
.

Adam looks
up at me
. The side of his sexy mouth tilts up and his eyes turn dark.  In my imagination sparks erupt
from the air bet
ween us like fireworks. I close my eyes and shake
those thoughts from my brain.

What’s happening to me?

These girlie firework thoughts are unlike me.
The old Mage wouldn’t be so dreamy and imaginative.
The old Mage wouldn’t even be sitting here socializing with these people. She would never allow herself to plant feelings for a certain gorgeous g
uy, much less let those feelings grow.

And most importantly, I wouldn’t be having these inappropriate thoughts of Adam and his delicious mouth. 
That
I blame Bernie for—her and all of her crazy boy talk.

As if
reading
my thoughts Adam rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. The action makes me blush.

“I don’t think Santa will be bringing me anything this year, I’m on naughty list,” he tilts his head and sends me another devastating smile.

As if on cue, the bell rings.

The rest of the day is the normal blur—me going through the motions of being in school even though my mind isn’t in it.

I bombard the kitchen when I get home in search for something edible. There’s nothing to eat which means grocery day is rapidly approaching.

“Hooray for grocery day!” I sing
.

Carrying bags full of groceries two miles—no thanks. I do, however, pick up a Christmas card for Bernie.

The last day of
school before Christmas break is the day that everyone hands out Christmas cards to their friends. For the first time ever, I get one. Bernie gives it to me at lunch.
It has a Christmas tree on the front—such a sweet thought. The card she gives Kale has a sexy, female Santa on the front—go figure.

After gym, I stop at my locker to put all my books in
. I put
in the combination and pop it open. I don’t even bother taking out my History book since I’ve heard through the grapevine that we wouldn’t be doing anything in class today. One more class to go and we’re out of school until after the New Year!

B
ernie
spends the entire class texting Kale
with a big goofy grin on her face.
They’re the new thing these days, all sweet and mushy and stuff—gag.
Adam
has his face stuffed
in some car
magazine; occasionally he talks
to the boy in front of him.

Instead of doing anything
productive I stare out the window above Adam’s head in a daze.

It’s not
a
typical South Carolina day outside.
We never experience real
winter
in the South
. Winter day
s in Summerville are
nice and breezy with
just a touch of sunshine. Today,
a dark impenetrable gloom ha
s settled over the city—rain clouds waiting to dump on top of us
.
The clouds are depressing; I’d give anything to feel the sun.

I imagine what the sun would feel like on my cheeks—the heat of it warming me and relaxing me.

The clouds shift and sun peeks through for a second. I move my eyes around and
I notice as I look
around the sky that the
clouds are parting for me. A specific cloud, a large gray one, is
comp
letely blocking the sun. I move
my eyes to the le
ft and slowly the cloud follows
my view.

Wow, that’s freaky!

I move
my eyes back to
the right and the cloud follows
covering the
sun again. Either t
his cloud moving ability
is new or I’ve
just never trie
d before today. Either way, it’
s cool.

I move the cloud and close my eyes to enjoy the sun. T
he s
ingle stream of sunlight bathes my face. It heats my cheeks and I imagine that I’m home in the garden and not stuck in this uncomfortable desk. It feels so good I sigh and relax. Time ceases to exist in this moment.

“You love the sun,” Adam says
.

His deep voice crawls across my skin causing goose bumps.

I open my eyes and the gray cloud slowly covers the sun again. When I look at him, his deep eyes explore my face. I feel myself blush.

I really hope he wasn’t watching
me
stare out the window like an idiot the whole time.

“Yeah, I guess I kind of do,” I shrug, “but I like the moon and stars more—they’re poetic.”

The minute the words leave my mouth I feel like a dumbass—time machine please!

Amusement flashes in his eyes as my blush gets hotter on my cheeks.

“What’s your favorite color?” he probes.

Favorite color?
What are we—seven?

“Purple. Why?”

“Just curious,” he runs his thumb slowly across his bottom lip as he smirks.

I’m starting to think he knows what that does to me—he knows I’m becoming obsessed with his mouth…obsessed with him in general.

The bell rings and everyone makes a run for the door.
I
reach over to get my book bag, when I turn back, Adam’s gone.

I’m surprised to see my grandfather waiting in the front living room when I get home from school. He never leaves his room anymore so this is different.

“Did you have
a good day at school?” he asks
.

Without a thought I run to him like it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. Falling to my knees beside him, I reach up and give him a big hug. I feel like a little girl again, instead of the fifteen-year-old adult I’ve become.

His eyes twinkle
like they used
to before his memory went away.

“Today was wonderful
. How was your day?”
I squeeze harder.

I take full advantage of his quick visit from La
La
Land.

“Oh
,
my day was nice, just the sam
e ole day every day,” he laughs
.

I look
over my grandfath
er’s shoulder to see
my gr
andmother smiling back at me. Her presence reminds me of my nightmare and I decide to tell him immediately before he goes away again. He says nothing as I tell him the story about my nightmare and the lady with the blonde hair.

“When I woke up she was there, in my room watching me,” I say, as he holds me close.

His scent comforts me—cigar smoke and mint.

He’s angry and sad when I finish my story—I’m not sure why. Standing, he walks over to the window and stares out at the land that he owns. Something’s definitely wrong. 

The room’s so quiet. I can hear my own heartbeat. 

“Soon all this craziness is
gonna
make sense, I promise. Until then
you
just trus
t in yourself. R
em
ember that no matter what anybody
tells ya’, you got a pure heart,
Mage. Nothing
else matters as long as ya’ got
a good soul
. I won’t always be here for ya’ and I just want ya
to know that no matter what I’ll always watch over ya’
.
I love ya’, sweet girl.”

He kisses my forehead and
walk
s away. Before leaving the room he turns and smiles—except his smile isn’t for me.

“Can ya’
see her li
ke ya’ see the others?” he asks. “I love ya’, Mary,” he says to the air.

My
imaginary friends…that’s
what he used to call them. Now I find out after all these years he knew exactly what I was seeing.  He knew
I wa
s capable of seeing spirits. And so now I wonder—what else does he know? And how did he know my grandmother was there? Does he see spirits too?

I run
after him
eager for answers. I catch him as he takes the first step to go to his room.

“Pop, what’s going on?”

“Rose, where ya’ been, girl
?
Where’s ya’ momma?” he asks
.

It’s too late
.
I say what I always say when he thinks I’m my mother.

“Mom’s in the garden. You go to your room and I’ll bring you something to snack on, okay?”

I turn and walk away before he can see the tears forming in my eyes.

There’s a feeling that I have… I feel like something’s about to happen. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s more than obvious that things are changing in me and around me.