“Mmm-hmm,” Joel managed a distracted response to Cheerleader Lexi’s flirtations. The truth was, he hadn’t even heard what she’d said to him. Had she asked him a question? All he could think about was wanting Maggie to feel how he’d felt when he’d seen her with Kaden.
Kaden, he thought with a grimace. What a dumb name. And dumb hair.
Cheerleader Lexi spoke once more.
Again, Joel didn’t hear her.
“Yeah,” he answered, preoccupied. All he could think about was how letting Maggie see him with another girl felt. . . good.
And just as he was contemplating his successful attempt at making Maggie jealous, Lexi rose to her tip toes and pressed her lips to his. Charlie and the others started cheering.
For a second, Joel was stunned. He was nearly choking on a rush of Cheerleader Lexi’s overpowering pomegranate perfume before he even realised that she was kissing him.
In shock, he jumped backwards, landing on Charlie’s foot and knocking the cup of unidentified liquid out of his hand. Whatever he’d been drinking spilled down the back of Joel’s t-shirt.
“Damn it, Tomlins,” Charlie muttered, licking the spilled drink from his thumb. But Joel hardly noticed the mess he’d created. He was too busy wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No,” Joel stuttered. “I’m sorry, Lexi, but. . . no.”
Her pretty face contracted into a scowl.
She said something else to him, but Joel’s attention had already shifted—just in time to see Maggie striding through the hallway towards the front door, leaving Kaden alone on the sofa.
Maggie cast a fleeting glance Joel’s way, showing him in one simple look that she was hurt. Suddenly, his clever plan didn’t seem so clever after all. He didn’t feel good anymore. In fact, as he watched Maggie stumble from the house, he felt categorically and unforgivably bad.
JOEL HAD WOKEN up early on Saturday morning, heavy with the shame of the night before. As the hours passed, he half expected Maggie to call him and yell at him or something. But she made no contact.
So, Joel went about his day as normal. He made breakfast—scrambled eggs for Ainsley and Pippin, toast for himself—but he had no appetite. He just stared at his plate, watching the butter melt into the toasted bread. His stomach was too knotted to eat.
Maximus and Evan were nowhere to be seen, presumably out working on some new spell or another. When Alleged Aunt Topaz arrived to look after Pippin, however, the self-proclaimed fortune teller for the people of Blackheath informed Joel that the plan had changed; she’d come to pick up Ainsley instead to assist her with a private palm reading session scheduled for that morning. When Joel protested that he needed Ainsley to help him look after Pippin, Topaz wouldn’t hear of it. She referred to the thirteen-year-old as her lucky charm, which made Ainsley smile broadly as she hurried him out to the appointment.
“I guess it’s just you and me then, Pip,” Joel said to his younger brother as the front door slammed shut, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake.
For the first time since moving into Really Old Aunt Pearl’s house, Joel resolved that he should make an attempt at cleaning. He decided to start with the kitchen, since it seemed like that would be the most prudent step.
Alone in the kitchen now, Joel sat Pippin in a particularly large pot on the counter to keep him out of harm’s way while the cleaning took place.
Joel tirelessly dug through the antique cabinets, discarding hoards of random old junk. He dusted the kitchen’s brass fixtures and washed the crockery. He scrubbed the floor and surfaces, and even swept the dust off the grandiose chandelier that was suspended above the huge rectangular kitchen table.
Once he was finished, Joel stood back and admired his work.
He turned to his little brother, who still remained contently in the industrial-sized pot. “What do you think, Pippin?” he asked, hoping that Pippin might make a real sentence this time.
“Think, Pippin,” echoed Pippin with an enthusiastic nod. Angelic blonde curls bounced into his curious violet eyes.
Joel smiled acceptingly and lifted the boy from the soup pot. “Yeah,” he said, sitting him on the clean kitchen counter. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
Pippin linked his chubby fingers through Joel’s and smiled devotedly at his older brother. Joel snuck a glance at his cell phone. No new messages.
“So, what do you want to do now, Pip?” Joel asked. “I’ve got about”—he glanced down at his watch—“an hour before my shift at the carnival starts.”
Pippin’s wide lavender eyes blinked hopefully back up at him.
“We could play outside,” Joel suggested. “Or do you want me to take you out for ice cream?”
Pippin continued to smile and blink.
“Ice cream it is,” Joel decided.
He moved to lift Pippin down from the counter just as a small piece of plastering crumbled away from the ceiling. It clipped Joel’s head as it dropped to the clean floor.
Joel rubbed the sore spot on his head and frowned up at the ceiling. “Ouch,” he muttered.
Pippin reached out and pressed his plump hand to Joel’s chest, where his heart was beating steadily beneath his t-shirt.
“Ouch,” said Pippin.
BY SIX O’CLOCK on Saturday evening, the carnival was already in full swing. The sky was darkening and the rides and stalls were lit up with neon lights. Music and chatter filled the air, and the ubiquitous carnival scent of doughnuts and popcorn wafted on the breeze.
Joel sat on the railing in front of the Haunted House, watching the queue of people form as they waited for their turn to embark the train. Cheerleader Lexi and some of her friends—who had already been on the ride twice that day—were now queuing up for the third time. Joel tried not to look at them as they giggled and tottered about in their high heels.
“Joel,” the gaggle of high-pitched voices heckled him. “Oh, Jo-el!” They drew out his name as if they were calling a dog.
He kept his head down, pretending he couldn’t hear. Their auras were a deep, vibrant red—powerful, competitive, and seductive.
The train chugged through the black curtains and rolled to a stop in front of Joel’s post. One by one, smiling customers with flushed faces hopped out, and those waiting in the queue stepped forward to take their turns. First in was a middle-aged couple; then a group of younger boys; then came a family. The last ones to board were the girls in Lexi’s clique.
“We’ve been calling you,” Lexi purred as she leaned forward to take her ticket.
Joel shrank back.
“Yeah, Joel,” one of the other girls baited him. “Didn’t you hear us?” The whole tribe erupted into giggles.
Joel stood rigid as he handed them their tickets. He glanced towards the train, where the other riders were strapping themselves into carts.
“Listen, Lexi,” he said, cringing as the onlookers virtually salivated at getting to witness the exchange. “I’m sorry about last night—”
“That’s fine,” she replied in a sultry voice. “We can try again tonight.”
Joel stepped back until he was pressed against the cold metal railing. “No, Lexi,” he said. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. There’s. . . someone else.”
Her hazel eyes darkened. “What do you mean? Like, you have a girlfriend?” she challenged.
Joel bristled. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said defensively. “I just. . . I like her.”
As he spoke the words aloud, no one was more shocked to hear the confession than Joel himself.
Oh, god, he thought, heavy all of a sudden. It’s true. I like Maggie.
“Who is she?” Lexi demanded, folding her arms and glowering.
From the corner of his eye, Joel noticed the hecklers glowering, too.
“No one you know,” he answered.
Lexi let out a taut breath, then rifled through her purse. She pulled out an eyeliner pencil and snatched up Joel’s hand, then scribbled something onto his palm.
“
There,” she said. “If it doesn’t work out with your girlfriend, you know who to call.” She winked and sauntered to the train, flanked by her doting cheerleader army.
Joel pressed his hand to his brow, unsure of what had just happened. He waited for the girls to climb into their carts before he hastily pulled the lever. The train lurched to life and disappeared into the dark chasms of the Haunted House.
He let out a breath.
Across the carnival grounds, Joel saw Ainsley strolling through the crowd towards him, cradling a giant bucket of popcorn.
“Is that dinner?” Joel asked as Ainsley approached. He reached out for a fistful of popcorn as soon as Ainsley was close enough.
Ainsley hugged the bucket tightly to his chest. “My dinner,” he corrected, his blonde curls lit up by the lights of the Haunted House. “Aunt Toppy bought it for me.”
“Figures,” Joel muttered, rolling his eyes at his brother’s affectionate term for Alleged Aunt Topaz. “And where is this favourite aunt of yours?”
Ainsley stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s helping the Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald,” he garbled.
“And Evan and Dad?” Joel asked.
“Where do you think?” Ainsley replied wryly, giving Joel a knowing look with his pale lavender eyes.
“Right,” said Joel. “Practising. Well, they’d better not be messing up my kitchen.”
Ainsley frowned.
“And another thing,” Joel went on. “Dad needs to stop handing Pippin over to the aunts. He needs to start actually spending some time with the kid. The boy’s confused, and he’s way behind on his speech. I’m worried about him.”
“What about me?” Ainsley spluttered. “I’m thirteen years old and my life is already in the pits. Someone needs to worry about me for once!”
Joel rolled his eyes again and took another handful of popcorn. “Give me a break. Besides, you’ve got Aunt Toppy,” he mimicked. “That old witch has got you covered.”
“True,” said Ainsley, chewing thoughtfully on a kernel. “But Toppy says I’m not appreciated enough by the rest of you.”
Joel snorted.
“Anyway, I’m out of here,” Ainsley went on. “Some of the kids from school are going to teepee Mr Garrick’s house, and I figure it’s about time I participated in an extracurricular activity.”
“Oh, really?” said Joel with a shrewd smile. “And what would Aunt Toppy think about that?”
“She supports it.”
Joel shook his head in disbelief, then took another handful of popcorn before Ainsley set off.
However, as Ainsley began to walk away, Joel caught sight of Maggie moving through the crowd and his heart skipped a beat. This was the first time he’d seen her since the party the night before, and he had to talk to her. She was trailing behind a trio of girls that Joel recognized from homeroom, and although she briefly glanced Joel’s way, she didn’t smile or wave like he’d hoped she would.
He felt an ache in his chest. And that could only mean one thing.
Damn. I really do like her, he thought, surprised at himself.
“Ainsley!” he called after his brother, hopping down from the railing and deserting his post.
Ainsley turned, then frowned at the sight of Joel abandoning the queue that was forming in front of the Haunted House.
Joel jogged up to his brother and shoved the ticket roll and money pouch into Ainsley’s free hand. “Cover for me,” he said quickly.
“What? No!” Ainsley cried. “I’ve got to go teepee.”
“Please,” said Joel, already jogging away. He snapped his fingers at Ainsley and then pointed to the Haunted House. “Just for two minutes. I owe you one, little bro. And I appreciate you,” he added with a grin.
Joel heard Ainsley’s colourfully worded response as he ran into the crowd in search of Maggie.
He caught up with her near the Shooting Fish in a Barrel game. Her friends were a few paces ahead of her while she lingered behind. She gave a start when she noticed Joel at her side. Her expression momentarily brightened, then quickly clouded over.
“Hi,” Joel greeted her breathlessly.
“Hello,” she replied in a cool tone.
“Hi,” he said again.
Suddenly things were awkward.
Great, he thought. Now what do I say?
He cleared his throat. “Hi,” he tried again.
“You said that already,” she told Joel.
“And I meant it.”
Maggie looked to the ground, kicking at a pile of sawdust with her foot. “Did you?” she asked, looking up again.
“Yes,” the word tumbled out. “Yes, of course I meant it.”
Maggie pressed her lips together as though trying not to smile.
Joel felt a rush of excitement. Things were okay between them—he could feel it. He still had a chance.
“Listen,” he began. “I want you to know. . . about last night. . . I didn’t. . . I don’t. . .” He fumbled over his words, suddenly wishing he could kiss her and almost bursting into laughter at the thoughts that were forming inside his mind.
I want to kiss Maggie Ellmes!
And, even crazier, he wanted to tell her that.
“Maggie, I. . .” he tried again, raking his hand through his hair.
Then, abruptly, her expression changed and her eyes turned stony again. She was staring at his hand. Confused, he looked down at his hand, too. His gut clenched when he saw Lexi’s name and number branded in black eyeliner on his palm.
“Um . . . it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, unable to pry his eyes off the heart Lexi had drawn at the end of her name in the place where the dot over the ‘i’ should be.
Maggie forced a smile, but there was no warmth in it.
“You don’t have to explain your relationship status to me, Joel,” she said dispassionately.
“But I. . . um . . .”
“Whatever,” Maggie interrupted. “But you’ll still help me with my problem though, right?” Her pretty jade eyes narrowed coolly. “Because that’s all I need from you.”
For a long moment, Joel simply stared at her blankly. He’d been so busy feeling bad about what had happened at the party that he’d completely forgotten about the curse.
So, is she upset because she liked me and she thinks I’m seeing Lexi? he wondered. Or is she just mad because she thinks I won’t help her with the curse anymore?
“I’m happy for you and Lexi,” Maggie continued impassively. “You guys make a cute couple.”
“Oh,” he managed.
Silence.
“So?” she prompted, tapping her foot on the ground. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Joel swallowed. “Of course I’ll help you. I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Good. Then maybe we should talk.” She glanced over her shoulder to where her friends were hovering some distance away, looking on curiously. “Later, though,” she added, almost as if she were embarrassed to be seen talking to him.
“Later tonight?” Joel asked hopefully.
“Just text me when you figure something out.”
Joel nodded his head numbly then watched as Maggie turned on her heel and strode after her friends.
MAGGIE AWOKE WITH a start as a rumble of thunder drummed through the night sky. She sat bolt upright in her dorm room bed, clutching the covers to her chest as she gasped for breath in the darkness. Slowly she detached herself from the harrowing nightmares of curses and doom that had been hounding her all night.
Outside, a storm raged. Rain pounded against the building, rattling the leaded glass window panes.
Maggie strained her eyes as she peered across the unlit bedroom. She could just about make out Isla’s shape beneath her covers on the other side of the room.
“Isla?” she called in a stage whisper.
There was no response. At least one of them would be rested for Monday morning classes tomorrow.
With a heavy sigh, Maggi
e reached across to her nightstand and fumbled for her water glass. She took a sip, cooling her dry throat, then returned the glass and patted the table for her phone. She tapped the screen and checked for messages.
Nothing.
Typical Tomlins, she fumed. Diagnose me with a curse and then leave me to my doom.
The wind outside suddenly picked up and the oak branches beyond her window tapped viciously against the pane, making Maggie jump.
She shivered and hugged the covers tighter. He was probably just too busy with Cheerleader Lexi all weekend to give my critical condition any thought.
Her heart gave a tug and she swallowed a lump in her throat.
Forget Joel, she told herself, squeezing her hands into fists. I hope he and Lexi live happily ever after blah, blah, blah, blah. I hate them both.
The rain was pounding against the glass even louder now. She drew in a deep breath, afraid the window panes might actually crack. I can get help from someone else, she decided. One of the other Tomlins brothers, maybe. God knows there’s enough of them. . .
Maggie dropped back down onto her pillow and stared up at the dark ceiling, wide awake and utterly miserable.
“Isla?” she whispered again, louder this time.
Still no response.
Maggie groaned.
Then a bolt of lightning flashed beyond the window, illuminating the room for a split second.
For the first time since she’d woken, Maggie caught a clear glimpse of Isla’s bed. Her friend was lying motionless on her back with one arm draped towards the floor. Isla’s face was tilted upwards, her lips were parted. . . and, hauntingly, her eyes were open.
The sight made Maggie’s stomach flip.
“Isla?” she gasped just as a rolling clap of thunder shuddered outside.
Maggie froze.
“Isla?” she tried again, a little louder now.
When there was no response, Maggie crawled out of bed and tiptoed across the room. She approached Isla’s bed and peered down into her roommate’s open eyes, but she was met with no recognition or reaction.
Maggie’s heart leapt into her throat. She nudged Isla’s shoulder gently with a few fingertips, but there was still no response. Maggie tried again, shaking her friend fully by the shoulder now, but nothing happened; Isla just continued to lie there, her eyes wide awake but otherwise totally unconscious.