Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [74]
“I know,” I fibbed, not meeting his eyes. “Sure. So, go on, what were you saying…?”
“Emma, I really hate that you think I’m ashamed to be seen with you. That night, everything about you was so carefree…I didn’t expect how easy it would be to be around you. I didn’t expect to like it so much, so quickly. I didn’t trust it. So I stopped talking to you and ignored you.” He looked sheepish and glanced down at the gray rug. I was a little surprised at the normal answer. It stuck out amid all the talk of curses and witches. Standard guy behavior, no magic required.
“Couldn’t you have just pulled my pigtails? It would have been so much easier,” I joked lamely. Brendan gave my hair a gentle tug.
“Is that better?” he asked, ruefully smiling at me.
“Much.” I grinned back at him. “So I wasn’t imagining it,” I said, feeling a little vindicated. “You wanted to kiss me that night, didn’t you?”
“Oh, hell yeah,” he admitted. “It took all my self-control to stop myself.” But his smiling was fading—fast.
“Emma, I already care about you so much—too much,” Brendan said, regarding me with somber eyes. “Do you really believe that there’s something bigger than us going here?”
“It sounds crazy to say yes,” I admitted. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense and explains the crest and the dreams and the warnings and everything.”
“Right, that’s what— Wait.” Brendan paused. “What warnings?”
“Um, do you promise to not think me crazy?”
“Oh, like those cards aren’t already on the table for both of us,” he retorted.
“Good point,” I mumbled. I summoned my resolve and dove in, telling him about the streetlights, and Angelique’s theory that I was being warned by my brother. If we’re going to talk about curses, then my crazy visions couldn’t be that much harder to believe.
“I’ve seen my brother, and I’ve heard him, in my dreams. If some tragedy was inevitable, why bother warning me?”
“Emma, he’s telling you to stay away from me and you’ll be okay,” Brendan argued. “I’ll transfer if I have to. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting hurt.”
“No, Brendan,” I cried. I attempted to plead my case. “Some of the pages were missing from the book, remember? The story was cut short.” I racked my brain, trying to remember the final lines from the story. Where were Angelique and her photographic memory now?
“The last words were about breaking the curse. If freedom from the curse is what you seek, it takes a selfless soul to…something that rhymes with ‘eek.’ Or something like that. I don’t remember. It rhymed in the book.” I slammed my fist into the faded leather cushion, frustrated. “It sounded like the book was about to go into instructions on how to break the curse. Which means there’s a way to do it! And besides, Angelique is positive that we have a chance—simply because we’ve identified it.”
I smiled confidently, believing I had just laid out an unassailable defense. Brendan just frowned and shook his head.
“Emma, maybe the reason we can be the ones to break this curse is because we know to avoid each other.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
“No.” I remained adamant. “That can’t be it.”
“If it’s this hard to walk away after two days, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like to walk away after two weeks.” Brendan’s voice was despondent.
Finally, I realized that there was only one way I was going to let him know how badly I wanted—no, needed—this. I took a deep breath.
“Would you believe me if I told you that these past two days are the happiest I’ve been since I can remember?”
Brendan looked up. “Things were tough in—” he paused over the next word “—Philly?”
“Keansburg, actually,” I said, hoping my voice wasn’t really trembling as much as I thought it was. “Keansburg, New Jersey.”
This story was harder to tell than Lord Archer’s tale. I told Brendan everything: about my father abandoning us. About Ethan dying unexpectedly at fourteen. About my mom, marrying a man she thought would look after me after she was gone, which