Page 87 of Bitter Rival

What a fucking gift that is.

Which is why I don’t hate this festival as much as I normally would.

Because of her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Beckett

“I had the best day,” Daisy says, sounding happy and drowsy.

The last of the sun has dipped into the horizon, and we’re sitting in a field next to the live music venue—a wooden stage in front of an old red barn.

The music pours from the speakers. Bluegrass, folk rock, and Americana carried on the warm breeze scented with barbecue and weed from a group of teens vaping.

I glance down at Daisy. She stretches out, using her backpack as a pillow. I draw my knees to my chest and rest my forearms on them. “Did the fortune teller predict that you would?”

“I don’t care what you say. Zelda was legit.”

Zelda was a scam artist. “You should have asked her to conjure up Elvis.”

“If anyone could do it, I have faith that she could.”

Despite my skepticism, Daisy insisted on getting her fortune told by a woman in a turban who shuffled through a deck of tarot cards and fed Daisy a bunch of crap. No doubt, she regurgitated the same spiel for everyone who entered her tent.

But Daisy bought into it hook, line, and sinker and spent a good twenty minutes pondering the deeper meaning.

Newsflash: There wasn’t one.

“I’m still thinking about the Death card,” she says. “And the Wand. Zelda said that Death doesn’t literally mean I’m going to die. I mean, everyone is going to die eventually. But it can mean a metamorphosis. A rebirth, you know.”

My eyes roll so far back in my head they might stay there permanently.

“I know you don’t believe in any of this. But I asked her why I was here. I’m still trying to figure it out. Not here, as in here in this world. But in Sutton Ridge. And she said that Wands are attributed to fire…” She chews on her lip, brow furrowed in concentration. “I just think there are a lot of clues in there, and eventually it will all become clear.”

I shake my head. For such a smart girl, I’m surprised Daisy would buy into all that bullshit. “It was just a deck of cards.”

“You’re thinking with the logical part of your brain. Zelda was tapping into the spiritual world.”

“Zelda has an invisible sign on her tent that only a few of us can read. It says: I Saw You Coming.”

Daisy laughs and folds her hands over her stomach. “I can’t even imagine going through life as cynical as you are. It must be a real drag.”

“I see the world as it is, not how I wish it would be. It’s a talent.”

“Let’s see what other talents you have.” Daisy gets to her feet and holds out her hand. “Dance with me.”

“You want to dance?” I scan the field where couples, families, and friend groups are sitting on picnic blankets or folding chairs. Kids zigzag through the patchwork of blankets, playing a game of Tag with neon LED bracelets and necklaces glowing in the dark. And Daisy wants to dance right in the middle of it all. “Right here?”

“What’s wrong, Beck? Scared someone will see your lack of skills? No one is watching us anyway.”

Why the hell not. It’s just about the only thing that we haven’t done today.

When I stand, the music changes to a slow song, a cover version of “If We Were Vampires” according to the singer, and I pull Daisy into my arms. Can’t back down now.

I’m still trying to keep her at arm’s length. Literally. Which means I’m holding her like we’re at a junior high dance with enough space between us to drive a semi through.

Daisy moves closer. Bridging the distance. Invading my personal space. Knocking down fucking walls like a wrecking ball.

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