follow. “Catch on to what, exactly?”
Kendall put down her coffee mug and folded her arms. “Supernatural stuff. The occult. Oh, my God, catch up.”
He had no idea what to say.
“So I was thinking, you know, everyone says your family is cursed, which I think everybody meant more like a metaphor but is starting to make sense,” Kendall said. “Mateo, do you think you act all freaky like this because, like, a witch put some kind of spell on you?”
Did she say . . . “A witch?”
“Or some kind of voodoo or something, although I don’t know who around here would do voodoo. Maybe that weird Vera Laughton girl, I don’t know. People were just saying, that’s all. It makes sense. Do you maybe think that’s what happened to you?”
If she’d said nothing, or accused him of madness, Mateo would have lied his way out of it. But hearing the truth—hearing something like understanding, from Kendall of all people—it seemed to break him open. The words poured out. “That’s what happened. To my whole family.”
Kendall’s eyes widened. “Ohmigod.”
“A witch cursed us more than two centuries ago.” Even now, Mateo knew better than to accuse Elizabeth. “That’s why we go crazy, you see? We really do have dreams about the future. But you can’t understand them until—sometimes until it’s too late. I never know exactly what the dreams mean until too late, and I wake up all over town, and it makes people think—”
All the pent-up hurt from a lifetime of ostracism welled up. It was too much to take all at once. Maybe if he hadn’t been cold, and freaked out, and scared to death for Nadia—
“Hey,” Kendall said. Her voice was softer than he’d ever heard it before. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
Coffee. Right. Coffee is good. He took a couple of sips, and the hot coffee in his belly seemed to steady him. Within a few moments, Mateo felt almost like himself again.
Kendall finally said, “You could’ve told us, you know. Like, you could’ve just explained.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“Not back in sophomore year. But after the past couple months, yeah.” She acted like discovering the world of the supernatural was just one more bit of gossip she’d learned. “So, are you crazy right now? Because if you’re not, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Not crazy at the moment. And—thanks for the coffee.”
She padded back into the kitchen, apparently to get her shoes. Then she stopped. “Just FYI? If you’re cursed, we still have to treat you like you’re dangerous.”
Mateo hated to admit it, but—“That makes sense.”
“But we’ll understand.”
“That helps.”
Nadia awoke still wearing her bathrobe. She’d curled into a ball on top of her bedspread, too miserable and freaked-out to even get ready for bed. Groggily she turned over to grab her phone from its charging dock. Still nothing from Mateo . . . until the phone buzzed in her hand.
Mateo’s message didn’t accuse her, didn’t comfort her. He just said, Dreamed again. Went wandering again. Woke up on Kendall’s porch.
Another volley of gossip from Kendall was the last thing they needed. But then she read Mateo’s next text.
Kendall realized I’d been cursed, for real. Apparently everyone in town is talking about witchcraft. Are they just being superstitious or do they actually know something??
Eyes wide, Nadia pushed herself upright as she continued to stare down at the screen. It wasn’t like she’d had no warning this could happen. There had been weird scenes in town for months now, setting everyone on edge—and Verlaine had told her how a few people had begun talking about the supernatural during the terrible “epidemic” in November. Nadia had hoped that was nothing but panic, people losing it because they were scared for a moment.
Now, as the rain kept coming, people were even more afraid. And in their paranoia, the mob had hit on the truth.
They know. The Craft has been
Kendall put down her coffee mug and folded her arms. “Supernatural stuff. The occult. Oh, my God, catch up.”
He had no idea what to say.
“So I was thinking, you know, everyone says your family is cursed, which I think everybody meant more like a metaphor but is starting to make sense,” Kendall said. “Mateo, do you think you act all freaky like this because, like, a witch put some kind of spell on you?”
Did she say . . . “A witch?”
“Or some kind of voodoo or something, although I don’t know who around here would do voodoo. Maybe that weird Vera Laughton girl, I don’t know. People were just saying, that’s all. It makes sense. Do you maybe think that’s what happened to you?”
If she’d said nothing, or accused him of madness, Mateo would have lied his way out of it. But hearing the truth—hearing something like understanding, from Kendall of all people—it seemed to break him open. The words poured out. “That’s what happened. To my whole family.”
Kendall’s eyes widened. “Ohmigod.”
“A witch cursed us more than two centuries ago.” Even now, Mateo knew better than to accuse Elizabeth. “That’s why we go crazy, you see? We really do have dreams about the future. But you can’t understand them until—sometimes until it’s too late. I never know exactly what the dreams mean until too late, and I wake up all over town, and it makes people think—”
All the pent-up hurt from a lifetime of ostracism welled up. It was too much to take all at once. Maybe if he hadn’t been cold, and freaked out, and scared to death for Nadia—
“Hey,” Kendall said. Her voice was softer than he’d ever heard it before. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”
Coffee. Right. Coffee is good. He took a couple of sips, and the hot coffee in his belly seemed to steady him. Within a few moments, Mateo felt almost like himself again.
Kendall finally said, “You could’ve told us, you know. Like, you could’ve just explained.”
“Would you have believed me?”
“Not back in sophomore year. But after the past couple months, yeah.” She acted like discovering the world of the supernatural was just one more bit of gossip she’d learned. “So, are you crazy right now? Because if you’re not, I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Not crazy at the moment. And—thanks for the coffee.”
She padded back into the kitchen, apparently to get her shoes. Then she stopped. “Just FYI? If you’re cursed, we still have to treat you like you’re dangerous.”
Mateo hated to admit it, but—“That makes sense.”
“But we’ll understand.”
“That helps.”
Nadia awoke still wearing her bathrobe. She’d curled into a ball on top of her bedspread, too miserable and freaked-out to even get ready for bed. Groggily she turned over to grab her phone from its charging dock. Still nothing from Mateo . . . until the phone buzzed in her hand.
Mateo’s message didn’t accuse her, didn’t comfort her. He just said, Dreamed again. Went wandering again. Woke up on Kendall’s porch.
Another volley of gossip from Kendall was the last thing they needed. But then she read Mateo’s next text.
Kendall realized I’d been cursed, for real. Apparently everyone in town is talking about witchcraft. Are they just being superstitious or do they actually know something??
Eyes wide, Nadia pushed herself upright as she continued to stare down at the screen. It wasn’t like she’d had no warning this could happen. There had been weird scenes in town for months now, setting everyone on edge—and Verlaine had told her how a few people had begun talking about the supernatural during the terrible “epidemic” in November. Nadia had hoped that was nothing but panic, people losing it because they were scared for a moment.
Now, as the rain kept coming, people were even more afraid. And in their paranoia, the mob had hit on the truth.
They know. The Craft has been
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