We walk past the cluttered shelves to the front counter, Amber disappearing behind the countertop for a second before popping back up with a box in her hand. As soon as she sets it on the counter she leans forward, blocking the box with her body.
“I heard some talk that you’re single now.” She rests her hands in her peachy palms. “Spill.”
I play coy and reach for my box. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Amber pulls herself and the box back, grinning like a cat. “So I get to break Emmanuel’s heart and tell him you’re still dating that walking legal pad person?”
“Really? Legal pad person?” She’s talking about my ex, Alexander, who is indeed my ex-boyfriend, making me, in fact, single.
Amber lets out an exasperated sigh. “Girl, he is so boring.”
“He has a good job! And he’s tall. Buys me nice things without me asking...”
The fact I still need to defend him either says a lot about me or him, and I don’t want to know which. Officially, we’ve only been broken up for a few weeks, but I haven’t felt anything real toward him in months. Nothing, except the things I’ve already mentioned: his high paying job, his height, and all the nice things he would bring me just because he could.
“I forgot that’s all you need. Money and a man you can climb like a tree.”
I roll my eyes, annoyed that she’s right. “Wow, guess I’ll take my business elsewhere, then.”
Amber snorts. “No one else has our level of quality,” she points out. “And you’re seriously not going to spill to me, of all people?”
“Don’t you have to go help the Supreme?”
“Oh, she wants to know, too.”
I guess if Alexander and I were still together, if we made a life together like he wanted, there would be a possibility of him finding out about magic. Despite being human, my Gramps knows magic exists. Which is a bit of a point of contention for the Supreme, even if it was Amber’s Grandmother who allowed for Gramps to learn the big, scary secret we all try to keep. Witches, werewolves, vampires–things that go bump in the night–are real.
But humans have always had the upper hand. They’ve always been the majority, with armies, governments, and faith at their disposal. So we stay hidden.
“Stop by my apartment sometime, and I’ll give you all the gossip.” I reach for the box again.
Amber playfully slaps my hand away. “Last time I saw your apartment, it was a cardboard city. Does your offer mean you’ve finally unpacked everything?”
“Well, I don’t know abouteverything.” My eyes trail off, looking at the display of candles kept next to the register. If she knew I had been practicing magic at home, that I knew from experience how gnomes and pixies will do just about anything for a little treat, well… I don’t know. She’s my best friend and teacher; I’d hope she would be proud of me. “But I promise we won’t eat off cardboard boxes this time.” I smile. “We’ll eat off the coffee table I found on the side of the road.”
“Hey, that’s where the best stuff ends up.” Amber holds my order out for me to grab, only for her to swipe it away as soon as I reach for it. “Now, if I did come to your apartment, would a certain will-o’-wisp of a man be there?”
“You are so annoying,” I tell her, rolling my eyes. “Fine. The rumors are true. Alexander and I broke up.”
“Yes!” Amber practically jumps for joy, following her exclamation with a little dance and humming to herself. “Byyyye, biiiitch!”
I understand her excitement. I mean,Ibroke up with Alexander, after all. But not because he was boring. We were too different–him, a transplant from the East Coast who calls his parents once a week, and me, a local whose only living family is my Gramps. My Gramps, who I recently moved into an assisted living facility. It’s the first time the two of us has ever lived in a different home.
That had really been the nail in the coffin for our relationship. Alexander didn’t get what the big deal was, kept talking about how he would visit his grandparents in the nursing home all the time as a kid, and they seemed to love it. I know he was hoping I would move in with him once my family home sold. I knew that was never going to happen but I stayed, maybe hoping things would get better–or maybe I had gotten a little too used to being showered with gifts.
“I’m not planning on dating again any time soon,” I tell Amber. “If you could pass that on to Emmanuel?Gently.”
“Good!” Amber claps her hands. “That means I get you to myself.” She reaches out and takes my hand, her acrylics decorated with glitter and stars sparkle in the shop lights. She laces her fingers with mine. “Forget your apartment. Let's go to a club.”
My face scrunches. I like dancing enough for clubs to have been worthwhile in my twenties, but I’m getting closer to thirty now, and the appeal of loud music and getting covered in stranger’s sweat has melted away. Though any time I’ve said that to Amber, she’s been scandalized, emphatically insisting, “We’re not that old!”
“Oooor,” Amber adds, seeing the distaste on my face, “we could do facemasks and anime.” I start smiling, and Amber snorts. “You are such an old lady, you know that?”
“I prefer the term ‘mature.’” I flutter my eyelashes.
Amber snorts at my declaration. “Old, mature, grown–whatever you wanna be Minnie. I’m just glad you’re focusing on yourself.”
I finally manage to grab the package from Amber, who laughs as a rebuttal. The package is a little beat up and covered in about a dozen different shipping stickers. Poking out from under the stickers is a skull and the letters “TO–” before being cut off by a shipping label haphazardly slapped onto the package. In the back of my mind I wonder if Amber noticed the skull. Though if she had, she would have prodded me for answers.
