6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

Netti

P eering at the letter from the bank, my stomach drops, a heavy feeling settling in. I rip open the edge of the envelope, the sound of paper tearing echoing in the room, while silently praying to myself. As I pull the crisp white paper from its envelope, a faint scent of ink wafts up to my nose. Turning it over, my eyes are immediately drawn to the bold letters at the top.

DENIED.

A rush of disappointment washes over me like an icy wave crashing against my chest. I let the letter slip from my fingers, feeling the smooth texture of the paper as it slips through my grasp and gently flutters to the ground.

Falling to my knees beside it, the impact of the rough carpet bites at my legs through my thin jeans. It isn't fair. The weight of the past two and a half years settles heavily on my shoulders, like a burden too heavy to bear. I had worked my ass off, the long nights and extra shifts etched into my exhausted bones. The countless sleepless nights and endless studying, all for this moment. And yet, here I am, denied my tuition loan in my very last semester.

As I try to make sense of it all, the sound of a familiar knock reverberates through the room, breaking through my thoughts. The door creaks open, filling the air with a soft creaking sound as Rosemary's cheerful voice calls out. She and I have been friends since grade school, our shared memories and laughter resonating in my mind, even though we both left to study in colleges far away from our childhood home. I quickly wipe at my face and paste on a smile, hoping she can't see right through me.

“Netti!” She grabs me in a bear hug and squeezes tight until I can hardly breathe.

“It’s good to see you too, Rosemary.” I stand back, my hands on her shoulders, and look from her auburn curls down to her freckled nose. “It looks like the sand and surf are treating you well.”

“You know I can’t tan to save my life. With this fair skin?” She scoffs as she pushes up her sleeves and shows off her freckled arms. “But I will say, the beach eye candy isn’t bad.” She tosses her bags to the floor and plops on the couch in our open-style kitchenette living room before toeing off her boots and patting the seat beside her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.” I laugh as I take a seat beside her.

“So, what made you decide to take a trip to Rusthollow?” I gesture around me.

“Don’t beat around the bush, Netti. Intuition. My witchy instincts are tingling.” She peers at me with her wide hazel eyes, and it takes everything not to look away. She laughs and slaps me playfully on the arm. “Oh, your face. I’m just teasing you. You’ve just been quieter than usual, and you’ve declined all my invitations to come visit me, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to visit you. That is, if you haven’t found someone to replace your best friend in the entire world.”

“Rose—”

“You did!” She gasps in mock indignation. “Oh, who is it? Tell me more! Don't leave your girl hanging over the biggest life change since you kissed Matthew Hawks in eleventh grade. I have to know everything.”

“This isn't high school, Rosemary. There isn’t anyone—” The words feel like a lie as heat infuses my cheeks and my thoughts stray to Connor’s visit to the bakery. What was going on between us? I don't even know.

She looks at me skeptically, and my restraint in holding my tongue loosens. I was never good at keeping secrets around her. She always had a fifth intuition, even regarding small things like gifts and crushes. But I wasn't quite ready to open up about the encounter with Connor, even with her. And I trust Rosemary with my life.

"Well then, if there isn't anyone to tell me about, where can a girl get a good drink around here so you can update me on what's going on in Miss Netti Ellsworth's life?" she asks, her voice laced with anticipation. She links her arm with mine and tugs me off the plush couch.

"We could just stay in—" I start to suggest, but she cuts me off, her determination evident in the firm grip of her hand.

"I didn't just fly halfway across the country to stay in." She purses her lips, hands on her hips as she surveys me, her eyes scanning my face for any sign of resistance.

"I thought you flew in to see me?" I reply exasperatedly, a hint of mock hurt lacing my voice.

"Well yes, of course that is the main reason," she continues, her tone softening. "But it won't hurt to catch up while checking out where you've been holed up for the last three years." The weight of her words hangs in the air, a mix of nostalgia and curiosity.

"It's only been two and a half. You left half a year before me," I remind her, my voice tinged with playfulness.

"Two years, three years. The point is, we are well overdue for a girls' night out and a good drink and music," she declares, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I ponder for a moment, thinking of the options. "Well, I've heard Taboos and Voodoos is highly recommended by some of the customers at the bakery," I offer, thinking of what else I'd overheard in conversation during work. "They're known for their wide selection of craft beers and signature cocktails."

A smile spreads across her face, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. "That sounds like a perfect plan. Let's go," she says, her voice filled with the promise of a memorable night as she tugs on my hand.

"I can't go looking like this," I sigh, running a hand over the soft fabric of my cable knit sweater. My jeans and sweater, usually comfortable and familiar, suddenly feel inadequate for the occasion. The thought conjures the image of Connor in his perfectly pressed dress shirt and slacks, the crispness of the fabric a stark contrast to the casual clothes I'm wearing. What would he think of my cozy, worn attire and messy life?

“You look fabulous. Very cozy-chic. It fits your sunshine personality, but right now, my little ray of sunshine is acting like a rain cloud. You need a cold drink, some friendly conversation, and maybe a hot body to loosen up all that tension.” She winks as she pulls on her boots before grabbing her purse and heading out the door, leaving me no choice but to grab my purse and follow.

As we walk toward the club, excitement and apprehension fill me. Not even Rosemary is aware of my recent struggles, as I have kept them to myself. However, with her presence here, I realize how much I truly need her support and understanding. The comfort of confiding in her every night is something I deeply miss. Reluctantly, I even admit that I miss being home. Leaving home was supposed to grant me a sense of freedom and purpose—a journey of self-discovery. However, as I approach the end of my degree, with only one semester left, I am beginning to question if I have taken on too much. Perhaps I am burning too many candles at once.

"Oh, look!" she exclaims, her eyes widening. "Let's grab a table in the corner." As she slides her arm through mine, I can feel the smoothness of her skin against mine and the spark of magic thrumming under her skin. With a gentle tug, she leads me across the polished wooden floor, its surface smooth and worn from years of dancing.

We arrive at a collection of round, dark wooden tables, their surfaces adorned with intricate carvings. I run my fingers along the edges, feeling the roughness beneath my touch. "Where would you like to sit?" I gesture around. We've arrived early, only a few other patrons slowly filtering past the bouncers.

"Here is fine." She smiles as she settles into a chair and then waves toward the bar.

I follow her gaze and am captivated by the dazzling display of shelves lined with rows of gleaming cut crystal decanters behind the old wooden bar. The bottles of wine, their labels adorned with vibrant colors, catch my eye, as do the mysterious potions swirling with an iridescent glow. Even in town, I'd never felt adventurous enough to go to a club, let alone one that catered to humans, witches, and other magical creatures.

"Chilton Bruha. What can I get you beautiful ladies?" A tall lanky man, with a blue-to-purple ombre faux hawk hairstyle, asks as he appears at the edge of our table, nearly startling me out of my seat. His dazzling smile, a flash of white teeth against tanned skin, is aimed at the two of us, but his hazel eyes linger on Rosemary, clearly appreciating how the fitted turtleneck and pencil skirt hug her curves. Who would blame him? Under the flashing lights from the dance floor, she could have been mistaken for a descendant of Aphrodite.

"The Sulky Selkies?" she asks, pointing to his faded grey band t-shirt and raising an eyebrow.

"It's the band playing tonight. Are you here to see them?"

"I can't say I've heard of them, but back in Oceanview, bands come and play nearly every night of the week. I know the owner. If they're interested in traveling, I could give her their contact."

"You didn't tell me you knew the owner of Luminous Lounge," I say, facing her in my seat.

"You didn't—"

"Well, now you know two club owners. How did you meet Marlena?" Chilton says, casually leaning against our table.

As she settles into a conversation with the owner of the club, I can't help but be drawn to the far corner of the room to the stage bathed in a deep red light. The sound of laughter and conversation fills the air, intermingling with the soft murmur of voices as more people filter into the club. As I strain my ears, I can hear the faint strumming of a guitar and the tapping of drumsticks as the band sets up, their instruments glinting under the crimson glow.

"Netti. Netti." Rosemary snaps her fingers in front of my face. I shake my head, turning to face her.

"Sorry, it's been a couple of long nights. What did you ask?"

"You're forgiven." She blows me a kiss. "What do you want to drink?"

"Drink? Oh--" My stomach drops as I think about the bill I found on the coffee table from the mail this morning. The bank’s denial of my loan application meant I was facing the daunting prospect of finding another way to cover the remaining costs of my last semester. I had nearly forgotten until now. My budget was tight, and even the extra money I made from picking up shifts at the bakery wasn't enough to cover what I needed. "Just a water, please."

"We're out to have a good time," she says.

I glance around, taking in the vibrant scene before me. The air is filled with laughter and chatter, accompanied by the clinking of glasses and the soft music of the band starting to play in the background. The enticing aroma of various drinks wafted through the room.

"You can't drink just water," she insists, her voice tinged with playful defiance. I can see the determination in her eyes as she stares at me, challenging me to join in on the fun.

"I can drink just water. It's healthy," I reply, my voice carrying a hint of resignation. I shrug and break my gaze away, longing for the carefree abandon that seemed to surround us.

"If it's a matter of money—" she began, but before she can finish her sentence, my frustration gets the best of me.

"It's not money," I snap, instantly regretting my harsh tone. I meet her crestfallen features, realizing that my words had hurt her.

Thankfully, Chilton, the bar owner, intervenes at that moment. "Drinks are on the house tonight," he announces, his voice cutting through the tension. "We have a great selection of non-alcoholic cocktails if you prefer, but I cannot let you two go the night without a thank you after your friend here is connecting me with the owner of Luminous Lounge. You two are in my debt."

Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret for snapping at her. "Thank you," I said sincerely, my voice laced with gratitude. The weight of my earlier words begins to lift as I realize we were being taken care of, trying not to feel guilty over the free drink.

Feeling relieved, I decide to let go of my worries for tonight and focus on having a good time. Bills and homework can wait until tomorrow. "Can you make a French 75?" I ask Chilton, my curiosity piqued.

"Have you ever had a Fae 75?" he suggested, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "It's a house special made with strawberry gin."

The description alone was enough to captivate me. "Well, I haven't, and that sounds fantastic," I reply, unable to contain my excitement. "We will take two. That is unless you want something different?"

"This week is about adventure and trying new things." Rosemary turns and looks at me, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile back at her, feeling a warmth spread through me. Only a few moments later, we find ourselves sitting at our table, the glasses in front of us filled to the brim with the bubbling cocktail. The liquid swirls a delicate shade of baby pink, tempting us with its vibrant hue.

As I take a sip, the taste of summer strawberries dances on my tongue, sending waves of pleasure through my senses. It was as if I were lying under the stars, enveloped in the enchantment of the night.

"Wow, this is better than I ever could have imagined." I sigh contentedly.

"Did you ever imagine three years ago we'd be sipping Fae gin in a remote college town?" She laughs as she takes another sip.

"To be honest, I never thought I'd leave Willowdale." I stare at the bubbles popping at the top of my glass solemnly.

"What is it, Netti? You don't have to keep anything from me." Her warm hand clasps over my wrist, and I look up to meet her gaze. I feel my defense crumble as a glimmer of her magic runs along my skin.

"You don't need to use your magic on me," I say with a sigh before setting my drink on the table and closing my eyes.

"You know I can't help it. Sometimes it's intuition," she replies sheepishly. Rosemary’s magic is heavily seeped in emotion. With just one touch, she can temporarily remove pain or boost happiness.

"I think I messed up big time." I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"Netti, what is it?" She pulls my hands away from my face and meets my gaze.

"I couldn't control my magic at home. I've barely managed to use it here. And now I think I've messed up a recipe for a customer that could have ruined his life. How can I ever be trusted to be a nurse?" Tears burn at the edge of my vision, and my throat feels as though it's closing tight.

"It can't be that bad, hun. And that's how you learn from your mistakes. Trust me, I've made loads of mistakes." She flicks her wrist toward the bar, and a stack of napkins flies to our table. I grab one and dab at my eyes, not even caring that my mascara has smeared, and I probably look like a trash panda. "Now tell me who broke your heart first, so I can beat them up."

"No one has broken my heart except me." Laughter bubbles up in my throat, punctuated by hiccups as tears stream down my face. "I'm on the edge of burnout. I'm working overtime every week on top of going to school, and I was just denied my loan for the last semester. I'll be dropped from the program if I can't come up with the money by the end of this semester."

"Have you tried asking your folks?" she asks, her voice filled with concern.

I shake my head, my heart heavy with disappointment. "They think moving out here wasn't a great plan. They wanted me to stay home and learn the family business," I reply with a sigh. "There is no way I can admit to them that I'm failing," I confess, the weight of failure settling on my shoulders like a suffocating blanket. The harsh fluorescent lights above the dance floor flash toward us, momentarily blinding me.

"Netti, you're not failing," she reassures me, her voice soft and comforting. I can feel her warmth radiating as she leans closer, her hand reaching out to touch my arm gently. The sensation of her touch sends a wave of relief through me, like a cool breeze on a sweltering summer day. "You've just hit a rough patch, but guess what? You're going to survive this, and you'll be stronger for it," she adds, her words filling the space around us with hope. "You've chased your dream, and I'm not going to let you give it up," she insists, determination resonating in her voice. "Now tell me about your tall, dark and handsome stranger," she prods, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. The clatter of a dropped glass shattering echoes in the background, followed by the crowd shouting huzzah as I hesitate, unsure of how to respond.

"How do you know he's—" I begin, only to be interrupted by her knowing smile. The sound of laughter drifts from a nearby table.

"It doesn't take a genius to see something affecting you more than school, work, and bills," she says, her words punctuated by the tinkling of her glass against the table. With a playful gesture, she reaches over the table and pinches my cheek, a fleeting touch that brings back memories. I swat her away, a mixture of annoyance and amusement coursing through me.

"He's not my stranger," I explain, my voice tinged with exasperation. "He was a customer who came into the bakery looking for a specific pastry but then came back because he thinks I've poisoned him with a love spell!" A gasp escapes her lips, the sharp sound cutting through the noise of the club.

And so, surrounded by the sights, sounds, smells, and feelings of the bustling club, I tell her the whole story of how I met Connor Abernathy.