Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) (43 page)

We sit
at the table for dinner
like
a big happy family and I find
myself st
aring at an empty chair wishing that Adam was there
smiling back at me.

I miss
him more and more every day. People say that time heals all wounds, but
for some reason my wounds don’t seem to be healing. If anything my wounds are
getting larger a
nd deeper by the day. There are days when I feel like my heart i
s bleeding. The chest pressure and disc
omfort of a broken heart i
s far worse than
any pain any sinister person has
ever bestowed.

It’
s been over two months since that day in North Carolina, the day my one true love was taken from me
. Not a moment goes by that I’m
not reliving that time in my head
over and over again. There are so many things I should’
ve done differently, things that might have saved Adam.

Today i
s a bla
me Mage day. Occasionally, I have
blame Mage days. For some reason
, it feels better when I
have someone to hate for
Adam’s death
. That hate can replace the hurt for a little while and anything that can replace the hurt for a few minutes is always a good thing.

By this point
, I’ve read
every journal, book, or newspaper article in the library and
there’s nothing that even mentions being able to see spirits
.  My spell that I attempted out in the garden was app
arently a flop. The days seem
to get longer and longe
r every day, either that or I’m
just
that
miserable.

Bernie and I are in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“Why do you bother with this manual labor when we both know you could have this entire room cleaned in seconds,” she smiles.

“Don’t,” I say.

I don’t know how to respond since Bernie’s never mentioned my powers before.

“
It’s
okay, Mage. I’ve known for a while,” she
dries
her hands. “I’ll never tell a soul,” she kisses my cheek and leaves the kitchen.

Bernie and Kale go
out for the
rest of the night.
T
hey ask me to join, but I refuse. Lesley goes
about scrapbooking upstairs in her room and I follow
upstairs to my room. I jump into my bed and snuggle
up with a book that had nothing at all to do with magic. Soon
, I’m
bored out o
f my mind, and before long I have
my old yearbook in hand crying over Adam’s picture.

The tears are
hard and fast and s
oon I’m sniffing and hiccupping. The dam is
finally broken and everythi
ng hits
me like a ton of bricks all at one time. Every sin
gle thing that’s
happened in this crazy life of mine, from the time that I was slowly realizing that I wasn’t like everyone else
,
until this ve
ry depressing moment in my bed—all of it, slams against me.

Then I hear a sound that mak
e
s
my world stand still.

“Please don’t cry
,
Mage.”

Adam’s voice is a whispery wind in my room.

I look up quickly, but still I don’t see him. Maybe I’m
finally los
ing it, but I know I
hear
d
Adam speak.

“Adam?” I say into
the air.

I want
to see his face.
I
need
to see his face. I stare
into th
e spot where I think I heard his voice resonate from and soon I see
a sha
dow of something move. I get out of my bed and continue
to stare at the spot in my room
.

Please, oh yes, please appear Adam.

Nothing happens. Not even a shadow crosses
my room after that moment. There were no more hushed whispers and by th
e time I fall asleep I’m convinced I’m crazy.

The next day I spend
all day with Bernie, dress shopping.

Yuck!

“I’m glad
you’re getting better,” she says
while picking through dresses.

I don’t say anything since I’m
far
from being better. I guess I’m just better at hiding the pain
.

I pretend
t
o enjoy myself while she dresses
me like a
Barbie
Doll.
I really hate wearing anyth
ing other than jeans.

She agrees that blue is my color, and we walk
out
the store with a pale blue silk chiffon,
sp
aghetti strap dress with a beaded top and an empire waist. It matches my eyes and it looks nice on me, just like my mom said it would. We grab a
pair of
silver strappy flats that match the beading.

Luckily, I’m
extremely short so at lea
st the dress practically touches the ground. The dress isn’t anything I’d ever wear,
but it was the most comfortable ou
t of the bunch and Bernie seems
to love it.

Kale
spends the rest of the week
trying to teach
me to dance. I don’t know
who’s
wors
e, me or him. I think he steps on my toes more than I step on his. Bernie and Lesley laugh in the corner the entire time.
The
one good thing about all this is that I’m
busy
, too busy to sit around
depressed.

Soon, it’s Saturday, dance day. I si
t perfectly still while Bernie put
s
powd
ers and creams on my face. I have
rollers in my hair an
d the smell of hairspray has taken over the whole house. It’s hell on earth.

When all is said and done, Bernie swears that I’m
the
most beautiful creature she’s
ever seen
. I have to admit, I feel pretty.

My long black hair is done up with curls and pinned on the top of my head. Tiny ringlets of hair fall down my back and trickle around
my ears
and face. My make-up looks nice. I’ve
never in my life put on any kind of make-up
,
other than lip gloss, but there’s a first time for e
verything.

When it’
s tim
e for Ben to pick me up I’m nervous. This i
s
probably the dumbest thing I’ve
ever done.  Me, Mage McPherson, a person who wo
uldn’t dream of such a thing, i
s about
to attempt the impossible. I’m
about to socialize at a formal dan
ce. Not to mention, this dance i
s being held in the grand ballroom of
The Charleston Place Hotel
in downtown Cha
rleston; one of the richest most
ex
pensive hotels in the
area.

I say a prayer to myself when I hear a knock at the door. It’s t
oo late to back out now!

The look on Ben’s face when I me
et him at the door gives me the confidence that I need to walk outside. He grabs
my han
d and slips
on the prettiest corsage of blue
roses and white baby’s breath. I thank him and then we pose uncomfortably as Bernie and Lesley snap pictures.

We ride
through downtown Charleston in
Ben’s little black Acura. It’
s the quietest most u
ncomfortable ride ever.
I
haven’t seen much of him since the night in the library. W
e did talk on the phone a few times, mainly to finalize al
l the preparations for tonight.  Still, the air feels
thick around us in his small car.

“I’m blown away,” he says.

“What?” I ask
.

“You look amazing
,
Mage. I’m going to have to beat th
em off with a stick,” he laughs
uncomfortably to himself.

“Yeah, right,” I say as I watch
the beautiful scenery of the Charleston coast go by.

This whole area reminds
me of the many times Adam had taken me to the Charleston Battery. The many afternoons we spent on the d
ocks swinging in silence. I feel
tears st
ing at my eyes and I quickly try
to
regain my composure. Bernie specifically said no crying tonight. She said something about the black stuff she put on my eyes draining down my face. That’s the last thing I need
.

We pull
up to the front of the hotel and a little man in
a red vest takes the car keys. I stand holding Ben’s hand as we watch the little man drive his car out of sight.

There are c
ouples walking around outside preparing to enter this huge luxurious hotel.
My nervousness must be showing because soon Ben squeezes my hand and reminds me that he thinks I’m
the most beautiful girl there.

A
few of Ben’s friend
s meet us at the door and he mak
e
s introductions. I say hello politely to everyone I meet. No one can tell that I’m
busy breathing and trying not to trip and fall on my face in the middle of all these strangers.

I don’t
belong here at all.

Before long
, I’m
completely relaxed and sitting at
a quiet table with Ben. I sip on what tastes
li
ke fruity champagne, but I’m no
t completely sur
e. I don’t think the school would allow under-
aged people t
o drink champagne, but I don’t
ask any questions.

I take
time to admir
e Ben while his attention isn’t
on me.

He looks so
handsome
tonight
. Every female eye
in the room is stuck on him. He’s adorable in his black tux and bow tie. His hair, which usually hangs in his face, is
brushed and styled. He really i
s
a very
good looking guy. I feel
special sitting here with him with all his attention on m
e, especially since it’
s more than obvious that a few o
f the girls around the room are wishing his
attention was on them.

I realize that I’m
smiling at Ben in a ve
ry inappropriate way and I snap myself out of it.

What am I thinking? Here I am
,
two months after the love of my
life was murdered
, che
cking out my friend. Real nice, Mage!

I push
the g
lass of champagne away from me. It has to be the alcohol.

The
end of
the semester formal dance ends up being a
little more important than Ben
had let on.
Apparently,
this little unimportant dance i
s some kind of huge awards ceremony for a select amount of s
tudents, Ben being one of those students. He receives a service award for volunteering for the school. I clap with a proud smile on my face as he receives it.

After the awards ceremony
, it’
s more or less a regular high sc
hool prom. Everyone is dancing and laughing. P
ictures
are
being snapped and jokes
are being made.
Not all stuffy and boring, but
wild and exciting.

I feel
myself being lead onto the dance floor by Ben w
hen a slow song begi
n
s to play. I don’t
object, t
he poor guy had spent the
entire t
ime sitting at a table with me, the least I could do is dance one dance with him.

I try
to stay focused and not screw up his night by falling on my face across the dance floor.
Once we start dancing I try
really hard not to step
on his toes.