to fly to London to bring you a bottle of nail polish?”
“No,” she said with exaggerated patience, “I want you to fly to London—
at my expense—
to have a wonderful time. Thenail polish doesn’t matter at all, really. It just would have been a nice thing for you to do.”
“I see. Well, if it really doesn’t matter, I think I’ll pass.”
“Why, you . . .” I could hear her fingernails scraping against the mouthpiece as she passed the phone to my father.
“What’s the problem?” he asked wearily.
He was bored. This wouldn’t take much longer. “Much as I’d love to see you both, Dad, I think I’d better stay at school and study. I’m having some problems with geometry.”
“Is your GPA compromised?” he asked, clearly alarmed. “This semester is going to count in your college applications, you know.”
“I know. I think I’ll be all right, as long as I take things seriously.” He loved that phrase: “take things seriously.”
“All right. Got to go, Katherine. Do you need anything?”
“No, Dad.”
“See you later, then.” Mim was already screeching. It had no doubt been the forgotten pills that had prompted the phone call. Well, now she’d just have to do without them, and Dad might get a chance to see what she was really like.
And I’d get to spend Christmas alone.
I didn’t care. That would still be better than being Mim’s drug mule.
I checked the clock on my nightstand: 5:09 a.m. Dad and Mim had gotten me so flustered that there was no way I’d be able to fall back asleep anytime soon.
Great
. More time to think about how Peter Shaw kissed me and then ditched me in the Meadow.
It had been the most intimate experience I’d ever had, and I thought he was sharing every moment with me. I felt my eyesfilling. I could still feel his soft lips touching me like clouds. Like moonlight.
It hurt, knowing that Peter wouldn’t remember the moment the same way I did, but in a horrible sort of way, I was still glad it had happened. I’d taught Peter something that even Hattie hadn’t been able to, and I was proud of that. There was something I needed to do.
At around nine in the morning, I knocked on Gram and Agnes’s door.
“I’ve been teaching binding spells to Peter Shaw,” I declared by way of greeting.
“We know, dear,” Gram said. “Hattie told us. Won’t you come in?”
The invitation surprised me. “You’re not mad?”
Agnes ushered me in. “Oh, many would say we are quite mad,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “But no, we’re not angry with you, if that was your question.”
“We’re proud of you,” Gram said. “Using magic to help others is the whole point of living in a magical community.”
“But you said I shouldn’t be with Peter.”
“That’s not true,” Agnes objected. “We said that Peter would know better than to be with
you
.”
I was blushing furiously. “Because of Hattie? Or you? Something one of you told him?”
“No, dear,” Gram said.
End of sentence. No matter how I sliced it, Peter just wasn’t that into me, and even my great-grandmother knew it. “All right,” I said with a sigh. That didn’t change anything. I’d said what I came to say. “I’ll be going now. Have a nice holiday.”
Then I noticed the fireplace. Hanging beneath the mantel were three stockings, elaborately embroidered and decorated with appliquéd holly leaves and ivy. The one in the middle had my name on it, KATY , in big red letters. “You made me a stocking?”
Gram smiled. “For your first Christmas.” Her voice cracked. “Except for the name. I changed that yesterday.”
“Every year since you left Whitfield, we’ve hung it up, hoping you’d come back,” Agnes said.
I threw my arms around them. Even Peter’s rejection didn’t hurt so much anymore.
“Won’t you stay with us for a while?” Gram asked.
“As long as you’ll have me,” I said.
Hattie was right. The solstice—Yule to the witches—was a quiet time.
“No,” she said with exaggerated patience, “I want you to fly to London—
at my expense—
to have a wonderful time. Thenail polish doesn’t matter at all, really. It just would have been a nice thing for you to do.”
“I see. Well, if it really doesn’t matter, I think I’ll pass.”
“Why, you . . .” I could hear her fingernails scraping against the mouthpiece as she passed the phone to my father.
“What’s the problem?” he asked wearily.
He was bored. This wouldn’t take much longer. “Much as I’d love to see you both, Dad, I think I’d better stay at school and study. I’m having some problems with geometry.”
“Is your GPA compromised?” he asked, clearly alarmed. “This semester is going to count in your college applications, you know.”
“I know. I think I’ll be all right, as long as I take things seriously.” He loved that phrase: “take things seriously.”
“All right. Got to go, Katherine. Do you need anything?”
“No, Dad.”
“See you later, then.” Mim was already screeching. It had no doubt been the forgotten pills that had prompted the phone call. Well, now she’d just have to do without them, and Dad might get a chance to see what she was really like.
And I’d get to spend Christmas alone.
I didn’t care. That would still be better than being Mim’s drug mule.
I checked the clock on my nightstand: 5:09 a.m. Dad and Mim had gotten me so flustered that there was no way I’d be able to fall back asleep anytime soon.
Great
. More time to think about how Peter Shaw kissed me and then ditched me in the Meadow.
It had been the most intimate experience I’d ever had, and I thought he was sharing every moment with me. I felt my eyesfilling. I could still feel his soft lips touching me like clouds. Like moonlight.
It hurt, knowing that Peter wouldn’t remember the moment the same way I did, but in a horrible sort of way, I was still glad it had happened. I’d taught Peter something that even Hattie hadn’t been able to, and I was proud of that. There was something I needed to do.
At around nine in the morning, I knocked on Gram and Agnes’s door.
“I’ve been teaching binding spells to Peter Shaw,” I declared by way of greeting.
“We know, dear,” Gram said. “Hattie told us. Won’t you come in?”
The invitation surprised me. “You’re not mad?”
Agnes ushered me in. “Oh, many would say we are quite mad,” she said with a quiet chuckle. “But no, we’re not angry with you, if that was your question.”
“We’re proud of you,” Gram said. “Using magic to help others is the whole point of living in a magical community.”
“But you said I shouldn’t be with Peter.”
“That’s not true,” Agnes objected. “We said that Peter would know better than to be with
you
.”
I was blushing furiously. “Because of Hattie? Or you? Something one of you told him?”
“No, dear,” Gram said.
End of sentence. No matter how I sliced it, Peter just wasn’t that into me, and even my great-grandmother knew it. “All right,” I said with a sigh. That didn’t change anything. I’d said what I came to say. “I’ll be going now. Have a nice holiday.”
Then I noticed the fireplace. Hanging beneath the mantel were three stockings, elaborately embroidered and decorated with appliquéd holly leaves and ivy. The one in the middle had my name on it, KATY , in big red letters. “You made me a stocking?”
Gram smiled. “For your first Christmas.” Her voice cracked. “Except for the name. I changed that yesterday.”
“Every year since you left Whitfield, we’ve hung it up, hoping you’d come back,” Agnes said.
I threw my arms around them. Even Peter’s rejection didn’t hurt so much anymore.
“Won’t you stay with us for a while?” Gram asked.
“As long as you’ll have me,” I said.
Hattie was right. The solstice—Yule to the witches—was a quiet time.
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