Chapter 9 Sam

T here was tossing, and there was turning, but there was not sleeping. I turned on my white noise machine, opened one window just a crack, drank water, read a chapter from a book on the shelf—nothing was enough to scrub my brain of the thought of sitting down with Jesse and just talking to him casually about fucking websites or something.

Should I pretend that I'd never even thought about him again since whatever we had dissolved into nothing? Should I address the six-year-old elephant in the room immediately and ask him why he'd bothered to use me to get over his ex and then just gone right back to said ex? Should I try to set up the perfect moment where I would lean over to brush something off his shoulder so that he could look into my eyes and obviously notice how beautiful they are and slowly lean in until his lips are just hovering above mine, asking silently to kiss me?

I despised that my stomach flip-flopped even thinking about that last idea because there would so obviously never be anything between Jesse and me again, but it was hard not to wonder "what if."

Or recognize that you should be over all of this by now.

I karate-chopped my pillow and gave up. My mini-fridge contained nothing appetizing, so I threw on my robe to raid Zin's fridge instead. The almost-fall air was cool on my bare legs as I hurried up the path to the main house. It didn't matter that I was 24. The dark was a little scary. The door creaked slightly when I let myself in, but the trek was worth it when I found Peanut Butter M I knew she'd have plenty more to say if I'd just wait. She placed the teacup and saucer in front of me and raised a brow to question whether she should continue, and I just nodded.

"Maybe I should have pushed you harder when you were first released from that horrible job. We could be so much further along by now, but I also know you have to do it in your own way. That's hard for me. I'm old, and my patience is thin." She grinned at that and steeped her tea.

"So, my life falling apart is just what the universe ordered?" I tried to add some levity to the conversation, but my tone still held bitterness. My aunt smiled apologetically.

"I know it feels like that. But from this side, it just looks like your not-right-for-you life set you free. Your five-year is about change, certainly, but it's really about freedom."

I didn't feel free. I felt more dependent on everyone around me than I had in a long time. But I also couldn't lie. I felt like I finally had room to breathe, whatever that said about me.

"What did you mean, ‘we could be further along'? Further along in what?" My brain was only now processing everything she'd said before.

Zinnia side-eyed me in a way that only a witchy great aunt could, like she knew infinitely more than me about everything. It wasn't a condescending look, just one that said she was determining how much of the curtain to pull back during our little midnight chat. "Your magic, your intuition. We could be further along in getting you back to it."

I shook my head, confused. "Aunt Zin, you know I read tarot and talk to my guides and do all kinds of witchy shit, right? Like I haven't forsaken the old ways or anything."

She almost snorted at my exaggeration, but I had to infuse some humor somehow, or I was going to start biting my nails.

"You, my dear, have been a witch since the day you were born, and no one can convince me otherwise. Let me try to explain this in a way that makes sense in today's lexicon."

She set her teacup down and clasped her fingers together. I sincerely felt like she was about to share with me the secrets of the universe, ao leaned forward.

"Most people out there are spiritually operating in analog. You are operating in dial-up. Certainly, a different world than most, but you could be operating in high-speed internet, or whatever fancy thing they haven't invented yet that will come after. Your clairvoyance is a thing of wonder, Samantha. I could connect with you in a meditative state before you could talk; you were doing protection work when you were five, activating sigils at eight, and your tarot readings are the only ones I trust besides my own. You do not know how powerful you can be if you let yourself."

I felt my shoulders creeping higher the longer she talked from...I didn't even know. Embarrassment? Inferiority? Zin was an artist, and she always painted me in far too good a light. I wished I could be the person she described because that bitch sounded amazing. But I was a failed graphic designer living in her aunt's guesthouse.

"I do want to get better at practicing my craft while I'm here. I've maybe... drifted for a while. But as always, you make me sound much cooler than I am." I sipped my tea and tried not to make eye contact. I'd taken all the undeserved praise I could in one sitting.

Zinnia seemed to understand this and simply gave me an encouraging smile. We sipped in silence for a bit before she cleared our teacups. I murmured a quick goodnight before I hurried back down the path to my room. Sleep still took its sweet time getting there as I imagined and reimagined what I was going to do if I had to meet with Jesse, but finally, my brain relented.

A GROAN FORCED ITS way out of my mouth when the incessant buzzing woke me up far too few hours later.

"You had better be dead. Or else I'm going to kill you," I rasped, now on the hunt for my water.

"Yeah, yeah. You're such a scary witch; you'll hex me; you'll curse my bloodline, whatever. Have you thought of any reasons that mean anything?" Lauren asked.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I was unconscious seven seconds ago."

"Jesse. You. Getting help with the shop and not being a stubborn ass about it. Remember?"

I swallowed. "No comment."

Truthfully, I hadn't gotten past daydreaming about the different ways things could go if I did see Jesse again. Some of them were not suitable for casual conversation. Others involved kneeing him in the dick. I hadn't decided, and it was honestly a gamble.

"Good. I should probably mention, then, that I think Jesse is going to swing by the shop this afternoon. So, use this time to get pissed off or whatever you're gonna do, but he can help you with the ‘how to run a business' stuff. He's pretty much taken over—"

"Laurennnnnnn," I practically growled. None of my imagined scenarios took place today . "I am not nearly caffeinated enough for this information, and I told you I am not working with Jesse! He's just... it's too much, and I know you have to love him because he's your brother and all but—"

"I'll stop you there. I do love Jesse, and not because I have to, but because we're friends, Sam. And can we just agree that your senior year was a long time ago?" Her voice was a little softer now. "He's not the same person any more than you and I are the same as we were at eighteen."

I just blinked and let out a sigh. It was rare that Lauren shut me down that hard.

When did she and Jesse become actual friends?

My heart contracted at the knowledge that I wasn't there for her nearly enough after her dad's heart attack, and my obstinance crumbled.

"It really doesn't sit well with me when you're being all reasonable. Kind of rude, actually."

I wanted to let it go. All that talk with Zin about a five-year and being free had weighed on my mind last night. I wanted to laugh and say ‘Omg, remember that summer we hooked up and I let myself absolutely fall for you, and you absolutely didn't fall for me? What a hoot .' But it was not a hoot to me yet. It was hootless.

"I make no apologies for my maturity and reasonable-ness. And also? Cinderella didn't complain to her fairy godmother that her wish-granting wasn't enough. You said you needed help. I provided help. So bippity-boppity-do-what-I-say."

I snorted in a very ladylike fashion. "Except that she did complain about not having a dress. After the poor woman went and expended all that magic to make her a horse-drawn carriage. She was probably exhausted."

"That wasn't a complaint; it was just her explaining—you know what? I am not arguing with you about this. Make coffee, get dressed, and put on your big girl pants so you can run that shop like a goddamn boss."

The conversation was over, being that she hung up on me. Never mind the fact that I was an employee at the shop, and I didn't do anything close to running it ‘like a boss.' At least I'd annoyed her enough that I wasn't the only one in a bad mood already this morning. This would not go well, but I took an extra few minutes to really lay on the bullshit in the mirror during my morning affirmations.

THE BELL ABOVE THE door chimed when I unlocked Books and Broomsticks for customers and propped the door open to let fresh air in. The store did, in fact, house both books and broomsticks, though she only carried romance novels. She claimed they were the key to happiness. Upon skimming through her inventory that week, however, I vowed to convince her to order more titles from this century. The fancy broomsticks with crystals and herbs woven into them? Those were exactly right. I took a deep breath and grounded myself in the space before I let the to-do list take over my mind. Aunt Zinnia spent decades curating a very specific "neighborhood witch" vibe in the store, and she was trusting me to infuse it with something as mundane as organization and technology without fucking up that magic. I didn't take it lightly.

Besides allowing the cool morning air into the shop to clear out any stagnant energy from yesterday's customers, Zin had given me other magical homework. Apparently, the pretty notebook and pens she'd left for me in the guesthouse were for me to struggle through a list of shadow work questions. I glanced through said questions, and that sounded like the worst thing ever. A deep dive into my relationship with my mother and my hidden insecurities did not entice me, so I would not be doing that.

Not yet, anyway.

I had at least agreed to meditate in the mornings and connect with my guides more intentionally instead of just when I was in the middle of a crisis.

So, there I sat, cross-legged on the rolling chair behind the check-out counter, with juniper and sweetgrass lit in the bowl beside me. I was attempting to clear my mind of all the cobwebs of self-doubt and fear until I could find myself comfortably in my favorite spot—a single-room cottage not completely unlike Zin's guesthouse, though the one in my mind was tucked back in a forest next to a clear blue stream. In this space, my guides often came to the door as visitors, and I called for them to come in. Today, they didn't try to bring me any information; it was more of a feeling of relief that I was letting them in to simply sit with me so we could all be present together.

My guides appeared more as wavelengths of light than people , but it was easier to describe them as my people. Breath rushed out of my lungs, and I felt more relaxed and safer than I had since well before I lost my job. Time was kind of wonky when I meditated, but when I felt like our visit had reached its conclusion, I reluctantly said my goodbyes, buttoned up the cottage, and slowly came back into my body. It was honestly annoying how much better I felt after just doing what my aunt told me to do. I sighed, stretched, and moved on to the physical tasks on the to-do list now that the metaphysical ones were taken care of.

THE BELL JINGLED AGAIN when Lauren arrived, entering like a tornado of strawberry blond hair and floral perfume. I didn't so much see auras like some people did, but I could sort of feel them. It was how walking into a dentist's office always feels the same way, or how the sun feels on the first warm day of spring—people's energies triggered sensations like that for me when I let them. Lauren almost always felt like the moment of anticipation before going out with friends, all good vibes and fun makeup. Today was no different, and that feeling made it hard to be mad at her.

"I come bearing gifts," she stated, with a very large iced-coffee and what looked to be a bagel sandwich in hand.

"Hmmm. If that's turkey on an everything bagel with sundried tomato paste, then I almost forgive you for inviting your brother here."

I took the coffee greedily. Emberwood Cafe had the best coffee anywhere on the planet. I didn't need to visit everywhere on the planet to know this, I just did.

Lauren rolled her eyes, hard .

"I have a client in twenty minutes, or I would stay and harass you until I was satisfied you wouldn't throw coffee in Jesse's face, but I did make sure it was iced so at least you won't permanently scar him. Also, you are adorable, and your boobs look fantastic in that top. Have a great day bye!" She was gone again without even bothering to glance back at the glare I sent her.

I had been very deliberate in picking out something to make it seem like I was not trying too hard, but that also wasn't the oversized t-shirt and leggings I'd been wearing every day to clean out the back room. I'd settled on a fluttery royal-blue tank top and my favorite pair of jeans. I pulled up the deep-v neckline to ensure I wasn't giving a free show. Then I pulled it back down again because fuck him; I did have nice boobs.