“I think my phone was off.”
“If you miss this party, you’ll set the tone for the whole year.”
He picks up one of the giant Tarot cards from the novelty deck on the table—Three of Cups, featuring three women dancing in celebration, drinks held high.
“Dear Universe, my name is Stevie, and I hereby declare that I don’t want to haveanyfun this year.” He turns the card upside down and frowns, indicating a reversal of the normally celebratory meaning.
When I laugh, he pulls out another card—Seven of Swords, featuring an older man who reminds me of Professor Phaines holed up in a castle and poring over old manuscripts, seven swords on the table in front of him. “I want to spend all my time locked away in the library reading dusty old books and discussing unpronounceable theories with Kirin Weber, who looks so cute in his hipster glasses and artfully mussed, slightly-mad-scientist hair it’s hard to believe that on the inside, he really is an absolute snore.”
Now I’m totally cracking up, but Ani’s just getting started.
His next card is the Four of Swords, a dead knight entombed in eternal repose beneath a wall of swords.
“After all my hard work,” Ani says, “I’m going straight home to bed, to sleep in a stone coffin for the next eighty years, hoping one day my prince will start to miss me and show up to entertain me with a magickal wake-up kiss.”
I snort. “Like I need a prince to entertain me. Hello? That’s what vibrators are for.”
Ani lets out a whoop, then holds up the Ace of Wands, which is probably the most phallic card in the deck, with a huge wand shooting up from a chasm between two rocky cliffs.
“Well, damn,” he says, tossing the card onto the table and holding up his teacup in salutation. “Gotta admire a witch who can entertain herself.”
“I wish.” I reach over and turn the Ace of Wands upside down, making the sad-trombone sound. “There’s one store your fancy Promenade is definitely missing. Someone should write a letter to whoever’s in charge.”
Of the few possessions I left behind in Tres Búhos, I’ll probably miss my vibrator the most. I keep thinking I should text Jessa a warning before she starts packing up our trailer for her move, but letting her discover Mr. Winky under my bed in all his bright purple, multiple-attachment glory sounds so much more fun.
“Okay, Stevie. Point taken. And I’m all for equal rights—I swear. But in this case, you definitely need saving.”
I pick up the Knight of Swords from the pile. “And you’re just the prince in shining armor for the job?”
“The party is tradition,” he says. “You don’t want to mess with that.”
“What you call tradition, every college movie for the past fifty years calls hazing the clueless new girl.”
“We don’t haze here. Cuts into prime drinking time. It’s the mundane humans that haven’t figured that part out yet.”
“Good. Because if I agree to this ridiculousness and you end up hazing me, I’ll… I don’t know yet. But I promise you it’ll be super painful and/or embarrassing.”
Ani wriggles his eyebrows. “Will it involve a vibrator, though? That’s the question oneveryone’smind.”
“Haze me and find out, Gingersnap.”
Ani laughs, then finishes the last of his tea. “No hazing, I promise. Only a little fresh air and a few beers to ring in the new school year. You might actually have fun.”
“Who else is going?” I ask, stalling for time. I was really looking forward to a quiet night with my books, but Ani’s making a compelling argument.
“It’s open to anyone,” he says. “You can invite people if you want.”
I think about calling Isla and Nat, but they’ve got some kind of magickal dance class tonight, and I don’t know how late it runs.
Sorry, party girl. You’re on your own.
I let out a put-upon sigh, but Ani just keeps grinning at me, his golden-caramel eyes glittering, his dimples flashing. It’s hard not to get swept up in his perpetual optimism.
“Ugh! Fine.” I get up from my chair and grab the empty teacups. “Give me twenty minutes to get changed.”
“Take your time.” Ansel grabs one of my books—Magick Rituals for Connecting with Your Inner Goddess—and opens to a random page. “I’m pretty good at entertaining myself, too. Withorwithout batteries.”
Twenty-Eight
