Изменить стиль страницы

Beth shook her head. "No. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Well, if Wicca isn't for you, then that's your choice. Thanks for being honest," Cal said.

"Uh-huh," said Beth, shifting her weight from one Doc Marten to the other.

"Beth, one thing," Cal said. "Please respect our privacy." There was a serious note in his voice that made Beth look up.

"You've come to our circles; you've felt magick's power," Cal went on. "Keep those experiences to yourself, okay? They're no one's business but ours."

"Yeah, okay," Beth said, looking at Cal.

"Well," Cal said. "It's your decision to go. But just remember that the circle won't be open to you again if you change your mind. Sorry, but that's how it works."

"I'm not changing my mind," said Beth. She moved off without looking back.

For a few moments we all looked around at each other.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Jenna coughed. "Yeah, that was pretty weird."

"Don't know," said Cal. A shadow crossed his face. Then he seemed to shrug it off. "But like I said, Wicca isn't for everyone." He leaned forward. "I thought at our next circle. I could show you guys some more runes and maybe a small spell."

"All right," Ethan said. "Cool." He leaned across to Sharon. "Are you gonna eat that brownie?"

She made a pained face, but I could tell she was kidding. "Yes."

"Halfies?" he asked. Ethan, former pothead, now merely scruffy underdog, grinned coyly at Sharon. It was like watching a street mongrel trying to flirt with a well-groomed poodle.

"I'll give you a tiny bite," Sharon said, breaking off a piece. Her cheeks were slightly pink.

Ethan grinned more broadly and popped the brownie morsel into his mouth.

Around us hundreds of students filed to and from tables, eating, talking to each other, busing their trays. We a small, private microcosm of the school. To me it felt like we were the only ones talking about things that really mattered—things that were far more important and interesting than the latest pep squad rally or prom theme contest. I couldn't wait to be finished with high school, to move on with the rest of my life. I saw myself devoted to Wicca, still with Cal, living a life full of meaning and joy and magick.

Robbie's elbow knocking into me jolted me out of my daydream.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his temples. "Do you have any Tylenol?"

"Nope, sorry. Your doctor's appointment is today, right?" I asked him, then took a bite of hamburger.

"Yeah."

"Here, take this." Jenna rummaged in her purse and took out two tablets.

Robbie squinted at them, then tossed them down with the rest of his soda. "What was that?"

"Cyanide," said Sharon, and we laughed.

"Actually, it was Midol," Jenna said, turning away to give another cough. I wondered if she was getting sick.

Matt whooped with laughter as Robbie gaped at her in dismay.

"It'll really help," Jenna insisted. "It's what I take for my headaches."

"Oh, man." Robbie shook his head. I was almost doubled over with laughter.

"Look at it this way," said Cal brightly. "You won't get that awful bloated feeling."

"You'll feel pretty all day," suggested Matt, laughing so hard, he had to wipe his eyes.

"Oh, man," said Robbie again as we cackled.

"Well, this is nice," came Raven's snide voice. "Everyone all happy and laughing together. Cozy, huh, Bree?"

"Very cozy," said Bree.

I stopped laughing and looked up at them, standing by our lunch table. People streamed by in back of them, making Bree edge closer to me. I still felt profoundly relaxed, thanks to Selene, and as I gazed at my former best friend, I couldn't help missing her powerfully. She was so familiar to me—I had known her before she was beautiful, when she was just a pretty little girl. She'd never gone through an awful awkward stage, like most kids, but when she was twelve, she'd had braces and a bad haircut. I had known her before she liked boys, while her mother and brother still lived at home. So much had changed.

"Hi, Raven, Bree," Cal said, still smiling. "Grab some chairs—we'll make room."

Raven took out one of her foul-smelling Gauloises and tapped it against her wrist. "No, thanks. Did Beth tell you she was ditching the coven?" she asked, her voice seeming harsh and unfriendly. I glanced at Bree, who was keeping her eyes on Raven.

"Yes, she did," Cal replied, shrugging. "Why?"

Raven and Bree looked at each other. A month ago, Bree and I were making fun of Raven together. Now they acted like best friends. I tried hard to hold on to my feelings of calm and peace.

Bree gave Raven a tiny nod, and Raven's lips thinned in what could pass for a smile.

"We're leaving, too," she announced. I know my surprise showed on my face, and when I quickly surveyed the table, there was no mistaking that it was shared. Next to me Cal was suddenly alert, frowning as he looked at them.

"No," said Robbie. "Come on."

"Why?" Jenna asked. "I thought you were both so into it."

"We are into it," Raven said pointedly. "We're just not into you." She tapped her cigarette harder, and I could practically feel how much she wanted to light it up.

"We've joined a different coven," Bret announced. The expression on her face made me think of a kid I had baby-sat once. He had once thrown a live lizard onto the dining-room table, during a meal, just to see what would happen.

"A different coven!" exclaimed Sharon. She twitched her short suede skirt down, bracelets jangling. "What different coven?"

"A different one," said Raven in a bored tone. She raised one shoulder and let it drop.

"Bree, don't be stupid," said Robbie, and his words seemed to hurt her.

"We've started our own group," Bree told Robbie, and Raven glanced at her sharply. I wondered if Bree had been supposed to keep that secret.

"Started your own?" Cal said, rubbing his chin. "What is wrong with Cirrus?"

"To tell you the truth, Cal," Bree said coldly, "I don't want to be in a coven with backstabbers and betrayers. I need to be able to trust the people I do magick with."

This was aimed at me, and possibly at Cal, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.

Cal raised his eyebrows. "Yes, trust is really important," he said slowly. "I agree with you there. Are you sure you can trust the people in your new coven?"

"Yes," said Raven, a bit too loudly. "It's not like you're the only witch in town, you know."

"No, no, I'm not," Cal agreed. I heard a hint of annoyance in his voice. He put his arm around my shoulders. "For example, there's Morgan here. Does your new coven have any blood witches?"

All eyes turned to me.

"Blood witch?" asked Bree, derision in her voice.

"You said that on Samhain," remembered Raven. "You were just yanking our chains."

"I wasn't," Cal said. I swallowed and looked down, hoping this conversation would stop before people followed it to its logical conclusion.

"If she's a blood witch," Bree all but snarled, "then so are her parents, right? Isn't that what you told us? I mean, am I supposed to believe that Sean and Mary Grace Rowlands are blood witches?"

Cal went silent, as if he just at that moment realized what this could lead to. "Whatever," he said, and I leaned against him, knowing he was trying to protect me.

"Anyway," said Cal. "Let's not get off the subject. So you really want out of the coven?"

"Out and about, baby," said Raven, putting her unlit cigarette in her mouth.

"Bree, think about what you're doing," Robbie urged her, and I was glad he was trying to talk her out of it since I couldn't.

"I have thought," said Bree. "I want out."

"Well, be careful," said Cal, standing up. I stood up, too, grabbing my purse and my lunch tray. "Remember, most witches are good, but not all of them. Make sure you haven't left the frying pan for the fire."