The Curse Girl by Kate Avery Ellison

through it. He put it back on the shelf with a sigh. The cheerful mood faded back to seriousness again, like someone had flipped a switch. There were just so many emotions churning inside us both, I supposed. We were so morose today.
    “I wish I’d had a brother,” I said, after another short silence. “I always wanted a brother. Or a really fierce, protective sister. Somebody to look out for me at school when I was bullied . . .”
    “You were bullied?”
    “Of course. I mean, look at me.”
    “I’m looking at you. Am I supposed to see something that validates bullying?”
    I made a useless gesture. “You said yourself that my being called Beauty was a mistake.”
    “I didn’t say it like that , and we’ve already established I was being a, how do you say it? A jerk.” He studied me, an honest up-and-down assessment. “And I was horribly wrong. You’re very pretty, you know.”
    I buried my face in the book in my hands. Did he just say that? Awkward! “Uh, thanks. But the cheerleaders at my high school didn’t exactly agree.”
    “Idiots.” Will dismissed their opinion with a sniff.
    “I think so too. But they were popular, and really pretty, and energetic. I’m not very energetic. Or popular. I’m more of a quiet wallflower type.”
    “No? I seem to remember otherwise. Especially last night. You yelled at an insane witch. And you’ve spent the vast majority of our acquaintance slamming doors and storming out of rooms. You seem pretty energetic to me.”
    “Well.” I curled a piece of hair around my finger, sheepish. “But I’m not normally dealing with a crazy curse and a jerkish Beast Boy.” I softened my words with a smile, and he looked up from the bookcase in time to catch it. Our gazes held. His blue eyes startled mine with their soft expression.
    Something tugged in my stomach, and I busied myself with the bookshelf. What was that? Was my heart beating faster? Did I just feel a flutter of excitement?
    No, no. We were simply feeling solidarity. A connection, a mutual understanding of two cursed prisoners. Right? Not attraction .
    Hmm. That was a load of bull, and I knew it. I was attracted to him.
    The realization made my skin prickle with cold sweat. I liked Drew. I practically loved Drew. I couldn’t think about the incredibly handsome and—shockingly—sympathetic boy standing next to me. I couldn’t.
    As if in response to my mental panic, Will moved closer and leaned over my shoulder.
    “What about your other friends—what were their names? You mentioned one named Drew,” he said.
    “Uh,” I gulped. “He plays soccer and runs track. He goes to my high school.”
    “Are you . . . I’m not sure how it works now. Are you seeing each other? Courting?”
    “Er, dating?” I shook my head. “Not really. Sort of. It’s complicated.” I wondered why I was telling him this. The words were just spilling out.
    “Dating.” He tested the word, and then smiled. “It sounds weird.”
    “Hey now. Weirder than courtship?”
    Will ignored me. “What do modern people do when they date? In my time, Robert used to take Marian on carriage rides and walks in the forest. Or they’d sit in the parlor, or write letters to one another. Sometimes they’d go to plays.”
    “That’s kind of like something we do, only a lot less boring stuff,” I said. “Things like plays. Except they’re movies. Do you know what movies are? Motion pictures?”
    He pointed to a shelf, and I saw a dusty collection of newspapers. “They get delivered with the food. I’m not a complete idiot when it comes to everything that’s happened in the last several decades. And yes, there were picture shows when I wasn’t cursed.”
    Picture shows. He was kind of adorable. I swallowed a snicker and just nodded instead. It seemed the most diplomatic thing to do.
    “So you go to movies when you’re dating,” Will prodded.
    “Yes, movies. Restaurants sometimes, if we can afford it, or the park. Or bowling. But Drew