Page 86 of Blue Moon Mistress

Cold porcelain and painted block. The lighting is somehow green.

And I don’t plan on sticking around any longer than I have to, but when I’m done—before I can get out of the light blue stall—something catches my eye.

There’s a spellform woven into the scratched paint on the inside of this stall. It’s a benign protection, but it’s just a little bit off.

Whoever put it here is definitely a baby witch. She just needs a teensy bit of help.

I pull the pocket knife from my purse and carefully carve out the correction. Whoever she is, if she’s here, she’ll feel it immediately.

As I fold up the blade and put it away, the door opens, a brief wave of cheers and chatter washes into the room, and then, only the voices of the girls who’ve come in.

Through the gap in the door, I count them, five…

The gaggle that had gone past the guys multiple times.

Disappointment hadn’t killed their spirits yet.

“Trevor is going to ask you out again.” One in a bright pink, puffy coat says.

Another girl groans. “Can’t he take a hint? High school boys are the worst.”

Two of them lean into the mirrors, checking their make up and another pair fix each other’s hair.

The last lets out a long groan. “Ugh. Mr. Howard’s roommates are so fucking hot.”

“And they haven’t looked at us once. Do you think they’re…”

“They live together, but they are definitely nottogether.”

“Right, did you see the woman they were with? They definitely aren’t gay.”

“Unless she’s their beard.”

“No. I refuse to believe it. They’re at least bi. Don’t kill my dreams.” She sighs wistfully. “Next Thursday can’t come fast enough.”

“What are you going to do? Walk up to their door, knock, and when they open it, announce that you’re eighteen and want some dick.”

“Maybe.”

The others snort, and I decide I’ve eavesdropped long enough.

When I flush the toilet, I hear them go silent. I can almost feel their apprehension.

And when I step out, their eyes are round, their faces pale and I consider pretending I didn’t hear everything they’ve said.

“I would have to agree.” I say, washing my hands. “Dating high school boys was an exercise in frustration when I was your age… but I promise you. Men, a decade or more older than you are not going to be good for you right now.”

When I look up, they’ve congregated together and are watching me like I’ve got all the answers.

“You’ve got a lot of time ahead of you, and you’ll get a taste of what men are like in college. Don’t rush the fun stuff. Besides, any guy who’s that much older and is going to date you is just going to use you and spit you back out.

“I don’t care how hot they are, it’s not worth it.”

They watch me for a moment longer and I shake my hands out, going to the paper towel dispenser.

“Which one are you dating?” The one in the puffy pink coat asks.

It’s not something we’d discussed, but in this case, the truth should do more good than harm. I know well enough that teenage girls are rarely believed by their elders.

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