Page 10 of Meet Cute Magic

I quietly close the door and pull a black beanie over my head. I don’t know if it’s fully necessary, since it doesn’t cover my face or anything, but it completes the ensemble: the black turtleneck I found in the back of my closet, a pair of black jeans that fit me like a glove, and black sneakers. A black knee-high boot would have looked much better, but unfortunately, the heels would have made too much noise, so I stuck to the basics. I resisted the urge to add a stack of jingly gold bracelets for the same reason, even though they would have added a perfect pop of color.

I did leave on my necklace, a gold locket on a delicate chain that is tucked beneath my turtleneck and warm against my skin. It’s a habit at this point, something my mother gave me and something I rarely take off.

When normal teenagers get the safe-sex talk, witches get the kiss-bond talk. Because magic is basically intention plus supernatural powers, and a kiss is nothing if not a moment of intense intention, magical people have to be extra careful about who we kiss or else the kiss becomes a claiming—a kiss bond. If the person you kiss is nonmagical, until the bond fades, twinkling golden strands will link you two. These strands are usually only visible to magical folk, but if you’re bonded, then the person you bond to will be able to see the bond as well as your magic, even if they aren’t magic-holding.

The bigger problem with the bond, though, is the temporary but inescapable need to be near the person you’ve bonded with. I’ve never bonded with anyone myself, but my sister Violet has, and she confirmed that the need you feel is intense and heightens every romantic feeling, including sexual ones. This becomes complicated and worrisome when you consider teenage girls with more hormones than common sense, but the workaround that magical parents have created is a spelled piece of jewelry that blocks the bond magic from locking into place. While there is no risk of a kiss bond tonight, I wear it as much in memory of my mother as anything else.

When the moon is high in the sky, I tiptoe across the cobblestone road until I’m at the front door of the Gaming Den. It seems my mishap today has made the animosity even worse, since the sign that read No Mayfields Allowed has now doubled in size. I roll my eyes before touching the doorknob, trying it gently, and finding it locked. Residents of our small, sleepy town rarely lock their doors, but it doesn’t surprise me that Jack does.

Thankfully, breaking and entering is simple when you have magic.

With a whispered word, the air glows with my familiar pink glitter, and then the knob turns and the door opens noiselessly. I tiptoe inside, not bothering to close it behind me for fear of making any additional unnecessary noise.

I look around the Gaming Den at the books, games, and figurines that pack the store from wall to wall. Fortunately, the search for one nondescript flask that I’ve never seen before and that was only vaguely described to me by a somewhat suspicious ghost is a lot easier with a little bit of magic.

Threads of magic, be so kind, the flask I require, help me find. I feel the familiar zap of completed magic as I look around the shop, praying the silver flask I need is down here and not hidden upstairs. I’m sneaky, but I don’t think I’m sneaky enough to successfully slip into Jack’s bedroom without him knowing. Relief washes through me when I spot a glow in the corner of the store, and slowly, I make my way there, tiny glittering flecks drifting like dust motes in a ray of sunlight, guiding me to the back of the store. As I get nearer, I spot the silver flask I’m looking for, nestled within the shelves, shining in the glow of my magic.

“Score,” I whisper before making my way toward it on quiet tiptoe. My pulse is racing with adrenaline, and I’m almost giddy with a job well done. With this flask, I can see my entire future: a white picket fence, two or three sweet little girls, a doting husband plucked straight from one of my favorite books. Fun little bantering sessions disguised as arguments that end in sizzling hot sex, the likes of which I’ve never experienced in my life.

All-consuming, heart-melting, soul-filling love that changes everything.

I could have it all.

I just have to…

My fingers touch the cold metal of the silver flask, and the glow of my magic dims as the spell’s intent is completed.

That’s when the lights flick on.

In my panic, I stumble forward, knocking the flask off the shelf, as well as a dozen other things that were there with it—frames and figures and a few books. Everything falls in a deafening crash.

But despite the racket, I can still hear the deep voice yelling over it all.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

CHAPTER 5

Jack

48 days until Halloween

A dozen potential culprits for this break-in went through my mind as I tiptoed down the stairs from my apartment into my shop.

A burglar.

Some obnoxious kid.

An animal.

A fucking ghost for all I knew.

None of them were even close to what I encountered.

A light sleeper all my life, I heard the faint noise downstairs, and it woke me from a strange dream I couldn’t quite grasp, though I distinctly remembered my grandfather being in it.

Sitting up, I shifted a bit, listening closely until a soft noise hit my ears, one I probably would have missed if I had been asleep. I quickly slipped on a T-shirt and my glasses, and tiptoed toward the landing of the stairs, making my way down silently.

A soft, barely-there glow illuminates the back of my store, near the bookshelves filled with personal knickknacks and decorations and figurines for sale. I squint just a bit until I see her.