Page 39 of Haunting the Deep

I open my armoire.Stupid Elijah.I trade my hoodie for a black slouchy sweater and grab my knee-length black coat. Vivian bought it for me and was always trying to get me to wear it instead of my vegan leather jacket.Stupid Vivian.

I open my door. The sconces give the hallway a soft yellow glow. Paintings of long-dead relatives loom over me as I walk. I grab the banister and take the steps quickly. Jaxon waits at the bottom with my dad.

“Ready,” I say as my black boots thud dully from the Oriental rug onto the wood floor.

“There she is,” my dad says, and takes a good look at me. I can feel him trying to assess my mood.

I force a smile. “Rough homework night. I lost track of the time.”

My dad kisses me on the forehead. “Have fun. Call me if you need anything.”

I follow Jaxon out my door and into the fleeting light. The air smells of new grass, and the chill wakes me up.

Jaxon opens the door for me and I climb in his truck.

The more I breathe in the fresh air, the more I think getting out of my house is the best thing I’ve done in hours. And coming clean with Jaxon about Vivian is a relief. I’m so sick of secrets. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”

Jaxon gets in and starts the engine. “Yeah, me too. It’s nice to see you go out for once. You should come out this weekend, too. I mean, I get why you’ve been at home with your dad. But Salem in the spring is pretty fun. All the crazies come out of hibernation. The ghost tours start back up, and the street fairs. There is even wand-making.”

I smile. “How did you grow up in this town and turn out even remotely normal?”

“Sheer willpower.”

“Did you ever make a wand?”

“Totally. It’s the highlight of every year.”

I laugh. “I call bullshit.”

He pretends to look shocked. “That’s it. I’m showing you my wand collection when we get back, and you’re gonna feelprettyridiculous.”

As we near the edge of town, we turn down Derby Street toward the harbor. The tall masts of theFriendshipstand out like black webs against the soft glow of lights from boats in the distance. The houses in this section of town are old and beautiful. And the narrow streets have a personality, like you can feel the centuries of families and international traders who lived and died here.

“Wait, there’s a pizza place down this way?”

Jaxon rolls to a stop at the curb. “Right here.”

I get out of the truck and look at the hand-carved wooden sign of an upscale Italian restaurant. Small tea lights frame the windows. “Um, do you mean this fancy place I’m not dressed properly for?”

“Trust me, when you taste their pizza, you’ll be thanking me.”

He opens the door, and a woman with long hair and weathered skin smiles at us.

Everything is dark wood and candlelight. The walls are a faded brown with burgundy grapevines painted on them. Shelves are made from old shipping crates, and they hold small glass bottles and antique postcards.When I have a house, I would love it to look like this.

The woman leads us to a table and gives us our menus.

Our table has a wine bottle on it with a portrait of an Italian villa painted on the glass. A candle sticks out of the top, and wax drips down the sides.

I scan the room. “Okay. I’ll hand it to you. This place is beautiful.”

Jaxon grins.

“Ciao, bella. Ciao, signore,”says our waiter, a cheery man with an apron. “What can I bring you young people on this wonderful evening?”

Jaxon gestures to me.

I look over the drink menu. “Can I have your hot chocolate with a scoop of peppermint gelato?”