RED
In two hours, I’m packed and on the train north.
Sinking into my seat and looking out at the passing woods, I’ve taken off my hoodie and even let down my hair in an attempt to relax. I turn up the volume on my music and try not to think. Not about my grades, not about the hot desire pressing inside me, and definitely not about a certain someone who broke my heart.
Something touches my bare arm. I jump nearly two feet off the seat. When I turn, the ticket inspector has his hands up and wears an apologetic smile.
I pop an earbud out and give him the once, no, twice over. He’s kind of cute. A little old, but that wouldn’t stop us from having a good time. The uniform does things for me I didn’t expect.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says.
“You can scare me any day,” I say in a way that suggests something else entirely, while I hold my ticket out for him to scan. I lick my lips and one of my shoulders pops up to make for a seductive pose.
“What?” A line of confusion forms between his brows.
Realizing what I'm doing, I quickly say, “Nothing, thanks.” As soon as he’s gone, I rush to put my oversized sweater back on and yank the hood up.
“Stupid, stupid,” I whisper harshly as I smack my head against the window a couple of times. My head bounces off the glass and pain ripples through my forehead. Damn it. I rub at the ache.
Gah. I hate this time of the month, and I hate the effect it has on me. Embarrassment smothers the other feelings whipping about inside me. I can’t tell if it’s getting worse as I get older, or if Goldie is just having way too much of an influence on me.
Still, my body feels too hot and restless. Not even my music can drown out the sensations. My phone vibrates and I see Gigi has sent another text.
I may not be there to meet you, but someone from security will be there to let you in.
Cold drowns out the heat in my body. The thought of Hunter greeting me has me wanting to hurl myself right off the train and into the icy river we are passing over.
But he has done an excellent job of keeping his distance since I left. Ever since he learned I was a magic dud.
Straightening, I remind myself that I wanted nothing to do with magic, so it’s just fine it wants nothing to do with me.
An open wound yawns inside me as I remember Hunter's shrewd blue eyes and perfect lips, and clean jawline. Lean and sharp, he always reminded me of a sculpture of Adonis. He is strong, pristine, and his strong sense of duty melted me into a puddle of hero worship.
Far from perfect myself, I almost return to smacking my head against the window. I turn up the music so loud it hurts my eardrums, but it distracts me for the rest of the trip.
When I step out at my stop, I inhale the sweet decay of dying orange leaves and thick humid air. The cold bites at my cheeks and nose, while mist clings to the tiny New Hampshire town. I’d have asked Gigi to pick me up at the station, but since the chance of Hunter showing up in her stead was too risky, I decide to walk.
Thirty minutes of tramping down the street until I find the worn lane leading to Grandma’s house in the woods, and I’m still not sorry for my decision. My boots are slick and covered in mud, and I can’t feel my toes, but forty-five minutes on foot is better than enduring a suffocating six-minute car ride with the likes of Hunter.
I swear if I even think about him for too long, my heart starts to bleed. And he could always scent weakness from a mile away. I may be a magic dud, but I’m done being weak.
At last, the massive glass house, surrounded by trees, comes into view. The modern mansion is one of Gigi’s many homes, and I got her to agree to meet here for holidays. The mere idea of going to one of her places in a mage city makes my skin crawl.
I’m still grateful she agreed to my quiet exit from the world of magic, but even now, anxiety grips my throat.
Keying in the lock code, I open the front door and pull off my muddy boots. The whole place smells like fresh linens and sandalwood.
“Gigi, I’m here,” I announce, in case she’s here already. I didn’t see any vehicles, but they’d be tucked away in the garage.
I pad my way along the hardwood floors in my socks. Most grandmas are associated with soft pastel colors, flowers, and feminine touches, but the black framed windows and vaulted ceilings are modern and masculine.
The house is like a version of upscale camping, with trees lining every side of the glass house. Gigi has many sides but all of them are upscale luxury. Frankly, stepping outside it allows me to breathe for the first time.
Despite her promise that security would greet me, no one is here. Hunter isn’t here. I let out a breath I’d been holding for hours.
I ascend the black floating staircase to check if she’s upstairs. I wonder what she’ll think of my new nose piercing and all the new stud earrings that line my ears. All of them are gold since I rash out with silver jewelry. My tattoos are hidden from view, not to mention a couple other piercings she willneversee.
I don’t want to shock her too much right away. But the style changes have reinvented me into a new woman. Well, mostly a new woman. Lately, I’ve been back to the neurotic mess I used to be.
