Page 59 of Whisked Away
“Nope, you said you don’t want to talk about it. Fine, then we’ll sing instead.”
I shake my head and return to my work. The dough has started to take shape, but it feels hollow and overworked—like everything else in my life right now. I hate the looks of pity the Cove’s residents keep giving me. It was better when I first moved here, when they were all wary of me. At least then I could pretend I didn’t care what they thought.
I reach for another bowl, but my hands slip, and it crashes to the ground. The shattering sound echoes through the bakery, drowning out even Zoe’s music.
I stare at the mess, frozen. Something inside me has cracked along with the bowl. The speaker goes silent. The next moment, Zoe is by my side, her brow furrowed.
“Ethan,” she whispers, all traces of her joking tone gone. “Enough already. Call Alex and tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel.”
I clench my fists and blink away unshed tears. “How I feel doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters!” Zoe yells. Despite her anger being directed at me, I appreciate the ferocity of her friendship—how quickly she jumps to my defense, even when I don’t deserve it.
“She can’t know who we really are,” I say, the words bitter on my tongue. Our relationship was impossible from the beginning. I was selfish enough to think it could be a summer fling, too blind to see how badly I’d hurt Alex in the end.
Zoe’s next words hit me like a physical blow. “She already does.”
I jerk my head up to meet her gaze, my heart hammering. “You told her?”
Zoe has the grace to look sheepish. “I couldn’t let her walk away thinking you’re just an asshole who manipulated her and broke her heart, Ethan.”
I inhale sharply, the scent of yeast thick in the air. I think of the Council, of Dean’s stern warnings. The consequences of revealing our magic to outsiders blare through my mind—memory wipes, exile, or worse. And Zoe could face those consequences because of my choices. My heart clenches.
My control is slipping, magic crackling at my fingertips. “Do you know the trouble you could get into?”
“Some things are worth the risk,” Zoe shoots back, squaring her shoulders. “Alex is trustworthy. She could belong here—I think she wanted that, even. I showed her magic, and she barely flinched.”
I run a trembling hand through my hair. “You told a journalist our greatest secret.”
“I told Alex,” Zoe snaps, her eyes flashing. “Not a journalist. Not a human or a city girl. Alex. And she accepted it—accepted us.”
Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. I turn away and brace myself against the counter. There’s so much left to finish before the Whisk opens, and now none of it seems important. Alex knows. She knows, and she didn’t run screaming. She didn’t immediately publish our secrets to the world or call the police.
“What have you done, Zoe?” I whisper, but there’s no real anger in my voice. Just exhaustion.
Zoe bends down and gathers the broken shards of the bowl, tossing them in the trash before answering. “I did what you were too scared to do. I gave her a chance to understand. To choose.”
I close my eyes, remembering the way Alex’s lip trembledon the cliff. “She might accept magic in general, but she’d never accept me.”
Before I can blink, something cold and sticky splatters across my cheek and neck. I sputter and wipe the frosting away, staring in horror as it drips from my apron. Zoe stands before me, empty bowl in hand, her jaw jutted out.
“What the hell was that for?” I gasp.
Zoe slams the bowl down hard enough that it vibrates the counter. “Because words aren’t working, pity isn’t working, and being Little Miss Sunshine isn’t working either. You need a wake-up call. You’re head over heels for Alex, and you’re just sitting here like a week-old muffin instead of doing something about it.”
I yank a towel free from its hook and scrub at my face. “Everything with Alex was foolish for so many reasons. I’ve been heartbroken before, and I’ll get over it.”
Zoe steps closer. “You forget, I met you right after everything went down with Sarah. You were messed up then, sure, but not like this. Back then, you were heartbroken over your destroyed career and shattered dreams. This time? You scarcely think about the consequences. You would’ve given up everything—the Whisk included—to protect Alex.” She pauses, her gaze softening. “Don’t think Mia didn’t tell me about you asking her to help find a scholarship form for Alex’s sister.”
I freeze, and frosting drips from my arm, plopping onto the ground. “What of it?” I say, hoping it comes out nonchalant.
“What of it!?” Zoe throws her hands up, and I’m afraid she’s about to chuck something else at me. “Infatuation is when you’re attracted to someone. Maybe you had that with Sarah—fine. But love? Love is when you care about someone else’s well-being and happiness over your own. You love Alex, you big dummy, and you’re just going to stand here and give that up because you’re scared.”
I stare at her—at the fuchsia headscarf tied over her purple hair, her fierce brown eyes, and the gleaming tattoos with Mia’s name written in script across her bicep. I want to deny her words, to argue with her. But Zoe knows me too well.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Even if you’re right—even if I do love her—I’m different. More dangerous than most magical beings. You know that. I can’t risk?—”
“Doesn’t Alex have a right to make that decision?” Zoe slams her fists against her hips. “That one’s got a good head on her shoulders. I think you misjudged her, and honestly, Ethan, you owe her better than what you gave her.”
