Page 16 of Bewitched & Bewildered
It appears I was mistaken. There’s even a chance I was projecting; moving to a big city and living an everyday life was once a dream of mine.
I should keep looking for a job, but I’m too rattled to care about my bank account. I stop outside of the apothecary instead—ourapothecary. This time, when I think of memories, I think of one with Ozan. I have quite a few memories with him. He and his family were always coming around the shop.
Most of my times with him are a blur of bickering.
One stands out as unique. It was our senior year, and I was working alone. I may not want to run the apothecarynow, but working there was a blast. Out of all my jobs, it was my favorite.
He came in looking for herbs for his spells, and that should have been the end of the interaction. It wasn’t. Not by far.
I can’t remember how we ended up kissing. One moment, we were arguing about whether roses are baneful or beneficial in magic. Then my lips were on his… and I started it.
It was hard, quick, and confusing. It was my first real kiss. He’ll always be a part of that memory, and I can’t erase it.
He looks better than before. Ozan isn’t awkward and gangly anymore. His dark hair and eyes are a vision next to his golden complexion. I would even call himattractive. He’s still tall; he has to be a foot taller than me, but he looks strong, rugged, and?—
There’s a tapping on the glass. It drags me from my thoughts, and with a jump and a squeak, I return to the present.
Maple is inside—and she’s waving at me.
“What are you doing in there?” My eyes widen.
I’ve been assuming the others aren’t keen on entering the shop any more than I am. That doesn’t seem to be the case. Maple looks at home in the abandoned apothecary.
What does it say if I’m the only one avoiding it?
She runs to the door and swings it open, gesturing rapidly. “Come in, come in. It’s cold out!” She chuckles. “And I know how you are with the cold.”
“I am perfectly normal with the cold.” I enter the shop in a huff. “The rest of you are strange.”
The warmth envelops me, and I let out a soft, wistful sigh. The apothecary is nostalgic. It’s as if I’ve gone back intime…back to when my mother was here. Any moment now, she’ll poke her head around the corner and ask if I want tea or hot chocolate.
My throat is tight as I look around the empty place. It still smells like dust and cedar. Like her.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Maple says.
“Neither was I.” I turn to her with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“I come here to relax sometimes. Usually after my shift. It’s on the way home and all…”
“You find it relaxing?”
“Of course!” She lets out a soft laugh. “This is where I feel Mom’s energy—more than anywhere. More than the house. This placeisher.”
And I let her die—in more ways than one. My throat tightens again, hard enough this time that I may choke. I push away the guilt and the grieving to focus on the shop.
Ozan and his apothecary are the wake-up call I need.
“I feel her, too,” I say.
The difference is I don’twantto feel her.
For the second time in one day, tears threaten to spill. I turn away, subtly swiping one from the corner of my misty eye.
“That’s not a bad thing.” Maple’s shoes click against the wooden floor as she approaches. Her warm hand rests on my shoulder. “Why are you avoiding her?”
“I don’t know.”
Because she’s disappointed in me. Because she hates me. I won’t say those things aloud. The others don’t understand—even Maple, who knows me better than anyone, won’t get it.
