Page 5 of Curses and Cauldrons

Oh no. I chew on my thumbnail; pretty sure I know where this story is heading. Ava and Jamie have been dating for the last two years. He proposed last Valentine’s Day over cheese fondue. I tried to be happy for my friend, but I’ve never liked Jamie. He’s attractive enough on the outside, but he’s incredibly vain. Worst of all is the way he constantly puts Ava down. It’s all these little jabs about how her hair would be more flattering a certain way or her clothing would fit better if she lost five pounds. Jamie makes Ava feel like he’s the catch when, in reality, it's the other way around. Ava bought into all his bullshit, and I’ve slowly watched her self-esteem tank.

Stellan must have figured it out as well, because he makes a low rumbling noise that faintly sounds like the word “murder.”

“Yeah, he’s been showing this new intern at work the ropes.” Ava’s nostrils flare, and her eyes roll to the ceiling as she tries to hold back tears. “And by ropes, I mean his penis.”

Stellan’s beard shifts, and I’m pretty sure his mouth is turned down. “Please don’t talk about that asshole’s dick.”

“Can you hover somewhere else? You’re like a looming executioner.” Ava flops back into the couch cushions, throwing a hand up over her eyes.

“Yeah. I’ll go hover my fist right over Jamie’s stupid face and pound his nose in until he has to breathe out of his eyeballs.”

Piper stands up from her chair and squeezes between Stellan and Ava. She drops her hand on Ava’s knee.

“Are you okay? Do you need a place to stay?” Piper's soft voice soothes some of the tension in the air.

Ava groans, dropping her arm to stare at Piper. There’s a lost look haunting her eyes. “Fuck. I have to move.”

“We’ll go get your stuff. You won’t ever have to step foot in that place. You never have to see that piece of shit ever again.” Stellan drops his hand back on his sister's head, and this time, she leaves it there. “The spare room is always yours.”

Stellan has a two-bedroom apartment. Ava’s never lived there, but she stays often enough that the second room is unofficially hers.

“We can go now. I’ll be putting Jamie in the hospital for the foreseeable future, and you won’t have to see his face for a long time.” Stellan walks toward the door, dusting his hands together like that’s that.

“We’ve got the founders parties tonight,” I call out with a grimace.

“Fuck,” Stellan groans, a sound echoed by Ava. Piper and I trade miserable looks. She unconsciously rubs her hand where the damn peacock bit her.

“I’m going to need a lot of alcohol.” Ava sighs and then face plants onto the couch.

3

JOSEPHINE

I’ve never been this drunk in my entire life, and it’s only seven o’clock. Stellan and Piper both ran to their apartments to grab their things before coming back to my place so we could all get dressed together. The only thing Stellan had to do was put on his suit, which took approximately three minutes. Ava, Piper, and I had hair and makeup to do, which was undertaken in my living room because my bathroom is too small. By the time we’re ready to get our dresses on, the kitchen counter is littered with empty bottles of vodka, whiskey, and two-thirds of a bottle of wine.

“I shouldn’t wear this color. It makes me look like a corpse.” Ava stares at her reflection in front of the giant mirror in my living room. The last tenant left it when they moved out. It weighed as much as an elephant, so I considered it a housewarming gift and left it there.

The dress Ava bought for tonight’s parties is currently hanging in her closet. Back at her apartment, where her cheating dickhead of an ex-boyfriend is possibly still screwing his intern.Ava’s a good five inches shorter than me and has a lot more going on in the chest department. None of my clothes fit her.

She and Piper are closer to the same size. The only problem is that Piper's wardrobe is full of clothing that looks good with her flaming hair. On Ava, it’s leaving her washed out and sickly looking. She’s currently wearing a beige sheath dress with a lace overlay. It has thin straps and a sweetheart neckline with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flares gently when she spins. It’s very pretty, but Ava’s right. The color isn’t doing her any favors.

Pulling out a tube of red lipstick, she applies it to her lips with a shrug. “Maybe this will help.” She stares at her reflection before slapping the cap back on. “No. That's definitely worse.”

Ava turns away from the mirror and strides into the kitchen. She tosses back another shot. I’ve lost count of how many she’s had. She’s not even wincing anymore. I doubt she can feel her mouth at this point.

My mother sent over a dress for me yesterday. Something she deemed appropriate for the daughter of one of the founding houses. I head to my bedroom and stare at the satin fuchsia dress hanging in my closet. It’s something straight out of the fifties. The waist is cinched with a gold belt and the skirt poofs out with layers of tulle that stop just above my ankle. The odd length makes it look like the dress is either slightly too short or just a bit too long.

I hate it.

It may not seem like I have much fashion sense since I wear leggings and T-shirts most of the time, but that’s just practical for my job. I need to be able to move and be comfortable. Plus, half the time I feel so awful at the end of the day that I fall into bed without bothering to change.

I put on the dress, hating the way the fabric scratches against my skin. Reluctantly, I head back into the living room to aglaring Ava. She stares at my dress like I imagine she wants to look at Jamie for cheating on her.

“No.” She shakes her head, the corners of her lips turning down in disgust. “Absolutely not. You hate it. Why would you wear that?”

“How do you know I hate it? Maybe I love it.” I pick up the skirt and flounce the fabric with so little enthusiasm it’s no wonder she can tell I think it’s horrible.

“Because I have eyeballs.” Ava hiccups. Her back is propped against the kitchen counter, gaze narrowed as she stares at me. Her eyes suddenly grow wide and she smirks. “Oh, hell yeah.”

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