Page 53 of Spelling Disaster

“I think it’s a great idea.”

I slide my arm through his offered elbow and Theo guides me through the arbor and into the waiting gardens. The evening air is soaked with the scent of the blooms even this late into the season, holding a hint of the cold weather to come. The beauty of the beds takes my breath away. Towering trees would offer shade in the summer with their branches filled with leaves and swaying overhead.

I can imagine a blanket beneath one of them, spread out on the soft moss with an open book in my hand.

My mind flashes back to the strange grimoire and I forcefully shut those thoughts down.

The beauty of the gardens. That’s what I need to focus on. The warmth of the boy guiding me along lazy trails of cobblestone and mulch until we stop in front of a thick-trunked red maple, its leaves shifting into the colors of autumn.

“My dad carved our family initials into this tree,” Theo tells me. “When I was little and my sisters were still toddling around in diapers. It meant a lot to see a piece of us here, like it would stay forever. You know?”

I glance up at him, surprised. “It’s really nice how willing you are to talk about this,” I reply. “About your home and your past. Do you miss the house?”

He leads us over to a curving stone bench seated directly across from the maple tree and the stones set just so beneath it. The arrangement takes the natural scene into more of an art piece than anything else. In the dim light I can’t see where Theo’s dad made his carving, his mark on this place.

“I only miss the gardens,” Theo admits. He leans his elbows on his knees and stares at the tree. “I discovered my magic out here.”

“Really? How did it happen?” I’m asking too many questions and not giving much in return.

Theo doesn’t seem to mind. He looks lost to his memories, to the draw of this place and whatever magic he discovered on that day. “I was out here by myself and I ran too fast along the paths. I tripped, landed in a rosebush. Found I had the ability to heal my cuts with a thought while screaming about the pain.”

I like imagining him in this place. It’s so different from campus, and it seems fitting that I’m seeing a different side of Theo than anything he’s shown me before. I want to tell him about how I always knew I had magic. How my powers were fostered from a young age and were guided to grow in a certain direction.

None of those things come out.

“I have another reason for bringing you here, though,” he admits. He snaps his fingers and from beneath the tree a red-and-white checked picnic blanket unfurls out of nowhere. “I thought it would be great to watch the sunset on our first official date. You did really well back there, handling those guys. Now we can have our dessert.”

My mouth is dry again and my stomach achingly hollow despite my heart filling to bursting.

I want to remember this moment of him being here, seeing me, surrounded by the beauty. It’s all pretend, but right now it sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Come on.” He takes my hand and leads me to the waiting blanket.

Folding my body down, I sit across from him, not realizing that from the slight uphill position we have a nearly perfect view of the sunset on the horizon, painting the sky a myriad of gorgeous peaches and purples.

The other shoe is bound to drop sooner than later. Tonight is too great, too perfect.

“You really planned all this?” I squint at him. “Seems like a gimmick to me.”

“Not a gimmick,” he insists quietly. “Maybe I feel like I found someone in this entire place who actually meets me on my level. Someone who will understand when I talk about art and books and sunsets, without giving me shit or mocking me.”

I blanche. “People mock you?”

He shakes his head and a lock of hair falls over his face. “I don’t give them the chance because I don’t talk to them about the real me. They see what they want to see and I encourage it.”

“You trust me enough to show me the real you.” How? He’s never spoken to me before.

“I saw an opening to talk to you, and I took it.” There’s the mischief. “Do you blame me?”

“We’re not going to get our studying done,” I murmur.

“We have time,” he insists, holding out a strawberry for me to take. “We have time, Yas. Why don’t you tell me more about you?”

“What do you want to know?” I ask.

“Let’s start with how you’ve made it this far without ever riding a motorcycle, or going on a date.”

I focus on the parts of me that have no ties to what happened to the library and tell Theo about my favorite foods, the stories I’ve read. I tell him about my sister and how she likes to sneak around with her boyfriend. All the while, I wait for something about the moment to crack and show me the harsh, cold reality underneath.

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