That Witch! (5 page)

T
HE
entire drive home, Brynn thought about how Cassidy had come back to her locker, how her whole demeanor had changed, about the way Cassidy’s hand had felt around hers. The gentleness of her touch and the way her skin felt so soft did something to Brynn. It gave her a goofy grin and a warm feeling that radiated out from her chest and sent tingles down her arms. Cassidy actually made her smile for the first time in like… ever.

At least Cassidy didn’t act like she hated her. At least right now, anyway.

Brynn pulled into the suburbs, past all the cookie-cutter look-alikes, past Cassidy Rivers’s house, around the corner, and down to her own driveway. One block separated their houses. One block. But so much more kept them apart. Her house looked exactly like Cassidy’s, save for the gardens, the arrangement of the flowers, and the fixtures. Brynn’s house had an American flag flapping by the front door—a show of support since her daddy was a retired Air Force captain. Other than that, the houses were the same shape and color, had the same windows and doors. The same. But they were two very, very different girls.

She parked in her driveway, turned the car off, and grabbed her backpack from the passenger seat. As she worked her way toward the front door, she stole another quick glance at her wrist—the place where Cassidy had so gently and flawlessly written her phone number in pink ink and huge, swooshing, bubbly strokes. The sight of it made Brynn smile. Though why she liked seeing it there, she had no idea. Maybe she just liked the idea that Cassidy Rivers could be nice to her, like Miss Popularity didn’t completely hate her.

Just as Brynn reached for the doorknob, she heard Laura’s car whipping around the corner. The music hit her ears right before she saw Laura’s black Honda barreling up the driveway. Brynn’s mom hated when Laura did that, and she’d asked Laura not to more than once. Laura didn’t listen well.

Brynn waited for her, watching as Laura popped out from the driver’s-side door. Laura got to her house so fast Brynn wondered if she’d even bothered going home. Laura held up her arm, waving a stack of DVDs in her hand as she jogged up the concrete path to meet Brynn.

“You just getting home?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Brynn said as she slipped the key in the doorknob.

“What took you so long to get here?”

“I got hung up at school.”
Not a lie, but not the whole story either.

“What happened?”

God, could she be any nosier?
“I, um… stuff at my locker.”

“Oh,” Laura said.

When Brynn turned the key in the lock, her arm turned as well, exposing the phone number written on her wrist. She’d stopped thinking about it until Laura grabbed her arm and pulled it up to see the pink evidence of exactly what had kept Brynn at her locker after school.

Laura frowned. “Whose number is that?”

“It’s…. Well…. I….”

“Brynn.”

“It’s Cassidy Rivers’s number,” Brynn blurted. Heat rushed her cheeks.

Laura’s eyes widened as she released Brynn’s arm. She stared, mouth agape, eyes still as big as saucers, but she didn’t say a word. Not that she had to. The astonishment on her face was enough to make Brynn a little squirmy.

Looking away, Brynn opened the door to her house. Cool air rushed out and blasted against her blazing hot face. Relief. Sorta. Now she just needed Laura to quit staring at her like she’d lost her mind.

They headed inside—Laura going straight up to Brynn’s room, Brynn going to the kitchen for sodas and popcorn. At least their normal routine would put some distance between the girls and give Brynn time to think about how she would explain Cassidy’s number while Laura marinated in whatever ideas she conjured about Brynn and Cassidy’s new relationship.

Relationship? What a weird word to use when considering the most popular girl in the school.

Shaking her head, Brynn reached in the cabinet and grabbed a bag of popcorn. She started it popping and listened closely as the kernels exploded in the bag. Even as she focused her attention on the red and white bag rotating inside the microwave, she couldn’t stop thinking about Cassidy.

There was definitely an attraction there, one Brynn couldn’t deny, but wouldn’t admit to anyone else. It was a different kind of attraction, one she hadn’t felt with anyone else before. She wanted to spend time with Cassidy, wanted to snuggle under the covers and feel Cassidy’s arms around her. She wanted to feel Cassidy’s mouth against hers, if nothing more than to know what her lip gloss tasted like. Brynn wondered if they could ever be friends on any kind of level or if she was too much of a pariah for Cassidy to ever be seen with. It was so silly, and Brynn didn’t even know why she cared.

Okay, so that was a lie. She did know why she cared. A part of her wanted to have a place in Cassidy’s world. Take away all the self-righteous, narcissistic, catty, vapid airheads and that left… well, not much of anything. No wonder Brynn stuck to her one and only friend.

Cassidy had to be different, though. There had to be more to her than the role she played for the popular masses. Right? She had depth, something Brynn would’ve never even considered before Cassidy came over to her locker. She’d seen something in the cheerleader’s eyes, something almost caring and understanding, something that actually did wish for more than what she had. Or maybe Brynn was just wishing on a star.

The microwave dinged and ripped Brynn right away from her Cassidy fantasies. She popped open the door and grabbed the bag by its corner, then grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. On her way out, she stopped by the fridge and collected two sodas, then hightailed it upstairs to her bedroom.

She found Laura sitting on the edge of her bed, toying with the remote to the DVD player. “So what did you pick out for us?” Brynn asked as she sat one of the bottles of soda on the nightstand next to Laura.

“
Sweeney Todd
. The Tim Burton version.”

“Awesome,” Brynn said as she plopped down on the purple beanbag on the floor. “Are you still spending the night?”

“I guess,” Laura muttered.

Clearly something was bothering her, but Laura had always been the type who wouldn’t volunteer to talk about things unless someone else did the prying. Honestly, though, Brynn wasn’t in the mood to pry. She had her own issues right now, issues she wouldn’t share with anyone, and holding Laura’s hand while she sulked wasn’t a top priority.

The movie started to play as Brynn dumped half the popcorn into a bowl for Laura. Neither one of them said a word, even though they always talked through the movies they’d seen a hundred times or more. They’d seen
Sweeney Todd
a hundred and two times easy, even knew most of the words by heart. Yet Laura focused so hard on the television, she acted like she’d never seen the movie before.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” Brynn asked, sitting forward on the beanbag.

“Why do you have Cassidy Rivers’s number scribbled on your wrist?” Laura blurted as if the question had been playing on infinite loop in her brain. She didn’t look at Brynn when she asked. Instead, she kept her wide eyes glued to the TV screen.

“We’re working on a project together, remember?”

“Yeah,” Laura muttered, but Brynn could tell she wasn’t buying it.

“What? It’s the truth. You were there when Mrs. Miller paired us together.”

“Yeah, I was. But I also saw how mortified you both were when she said it. Cassidy clearly wasn’t into the idea of doing anything with you.”

“Maybe not, but we both have to make a good grade on this. Despite how Cassidy acts, she’s always been a good student.”

Laura’s thick black brows arched as she swung her head in Brynn’s direction. Her nostrils flared, and her lips curled. She stared at Brynn like she’d sprouted a third eye in the middle of her forehead.

“You’re complimenting her now?” Laura all but yelped. The disbelief in her voice was almost as piercing as her glare.

“I wouldn’t call that a compliment. It’s just the truth.”

“Are you gonna start taking up for her too?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Laura rolled her eyes, then turned her jet-black gaze back to the TV.

Sighing, Brynn settled back into her beanbag and tossed bits of popcorn into her mouth. She was glad the conversation was over but had the distinct feeling it hadn’t ended. The topic of Cassidy Rivers and the pink phone number on Brynn’s wrist would come up again. She could feel it almost as much as she could still feel the warmth of Cassidy’s palm against the skin of her arm.

W
HEN
Brynn woke up the next morning, her cheek was stuck to the vinyl surface of her giant purple beanbag. Her knees were curled into her chest, and a half-eaten bag of popcorn had spilled out on the gray carpet lining her bedroom. Laura nestled in Brynn’s bed, sleeping like a baby. The menu to the last movie they’d watched filled the TV screen, music playing in a loop.

She looked down at her wrist, and thankfully, Cassidy’s number was still there, though a little blurred. Brynn could barely make out the numbers, but she knew the moment the hot water of her morning shower hit her skin, the pink ink would completely vanish. Brynn couldn’t have that. No way could she lose that number.

The room was still pretty dark, save for the flickering images from the TV and the hints of light peeking in from beneath the dark purple curtains hanging over the only window in Brynn’s bedroom. She extracted herself from the beanbag, clumsily pushed up to her feet, and stumbled over to her desk, trying not to make too much noise so she wouldn’t wake Laura.

Quietly, she clicked on the small lamp bent over her laptop. It didn’t put off too much brightness, only enough to light the keys of her computer. It worked fine. She only needed to see enough to jot down Cassidy’s phone number before the digits wore away.

Half awake, she blindly searched her desk for something to write with, fingers fumbling with the chaos of everything her mother had asked her more than once to straighten up. She had the coolest Gothic Tinker Bell stationery set her little sister had bought her for Christmas a few years back, and Brynn hadn’t used it too often. The paper was just too pretty to waste on stupid scribblings.

Cassidy’s phone number wasn’t just some stupid scribbling, though.

She rolled her wrist over and jotted the digits down across one of Tinker Bell’s wings, leaving off the name so nosy somebodies wouldn’t know who the number belonged to. That little slip of paper was comparable to the most valuable treasure under the stars for some silly reason. It was her golden ticket to the chocolate factory. Even if hanging out with Cassidy Rivers didn’t automatically make her one of the cool kids, at least she would get a little taste of life in the cheerleader’s world.

After pinning the page to her black and purple memory board, Brynn grabbed a change of clothes from her closet and headed down the hallway to the bathroom. She’d picked out something cute to wear, something that would make her look less “homicidal” and more… normal, she guessed. It was an adorable dress and vest combo—white blouse, black skirt, black tie and vest. She even had the knee-high white socks and black patent Mary Janes to finish the look off.

Now, why she put so much importance into looking cute for Cassidy, she really didn’t know. A mere twenty-four hours ago she wouldn’t have cared. But apparently, twenty-four hours was enough time to make a whole lot of changes. In the span of one short day, Cassidy went from traumatizing and mortifying to almost sincere, and Brynn went from careful avoidance to absolutely dying to be closer to the queen of the school. And none of it made any sense.

Brynn climbed into the shower, stood beneath the hot jets of water, and let it rain down over her tightened muscles. Sleeping on the beanbag had knotted her neck, and only when the muscles finally started to loosen did she realize how painful it felt. She turned around and let the water pound against her knotted shoulders as she reached for her jasmine-scented bodywash.

Would Cassidy like that scent?

Would she consider it normal?

The thought made Brynn’s eyes widen, made her stop brushing her purple, spongy pouf over her body. Her fingers tightened around the netted ball as she stared at the creme-colored shower tiles. If Brynn didn’t get her head on straight, there was no way she would be able to face Cassidy today without making a complete fool of herself.

A knock at the door pulled her away from her silent mental breakdown. “I’m in the shower,” she called out over the splattering of hot water pounding down around her.

“I’m going home,” Laura called back. “Have fun with the queen bee today. Call me when you get back?”

“I will.” Or maybe she wouldn’t. It all depended on what happened when Brynn and Cassidy got behind closed doors together, and how badly Brynn reacted to their private time.

She lathered her shampoo and ran it through her chin-length, cotton-candy-colored hair, massaged it into her scalp, then let the water wash the suds away. The headache that had been developing since she rolled off the beanbag started to subside, and suddenly, everything seemed to clear. Cassidy wasn’t her friend and never would be. Cassidy wasn’t the ticket to her popularity, because Cassidy would never be seen in public with her. This had nothing to do with social status and everything to do with making a good grade on an English project. And that little epiphany would make working with Cassidy so much easier, or at least, Brynn hoped it would.