Page 73 of Persephone's Curse
“And nobody else can see it. Just us. Why is that?”
“Not even Mom and Dad,” Clara confirmed. “I asked them earlier.”
I pulled up a photo of the painting that I’d taken on my phone. It reallywasbeautiful. Maybe the best thing Clara had ever done.Never mind I couldn’t look at it for more than a few seconds without feeling a chill roll down my spine.
We looked at it for a few moments together, then Clara said, “Go talk to that cute girl at the store. Maybe she’ll have some insight.”
“I didn’t say it was a cute girl.”
“Sometimes I just know things,” Clara said. “I think I get it from Aunt Bea. Or Persephone.”
“Good night,” I said.
“Good night. Aim for the head.”
More surreal than perhaps anything in this absolute mess of surrealness was the action of going to school. Eating breakfast (Dad had made frittatas), walking across the park with Evelyn, sitting through classes, walking back through the park, getting home, changing into something a little nicer (the Dark Magic girlwascute, okay), setting off outside again. The normal rote actions of everyday life seemed absolutely hysterical. I laughed out loud in history class, and there is so rarely an appropriate time to laugh out loud during a history lesson (“Sorry, I was… thinking of something else,” I mumbled weakly).
I left the house for Dark Magic feeling marginally more normal, breathing deep, refreshing lungfuls of the chilly air.
I saw Bernadette outside the flower shop and crossed the street to say hi.
“Where are you going?” she asked. She was wrestling a big, unruly bouquet of lilies into a tall black bucket.
“To talk to a girl about summoning a ghost who’s actively refusing to be summoned.”
“Oh, the cute girl. Nice. What’s her name?”
“I don’t know, actually.”
“Very on brand for you.”
“What do you mean—”
“It’s just like, the most obvious question to ask a cute girl. But it escapes you. Will you help me with this?”
I squeezed the stems of the lilies together and helped guide them into the bucket. Bernadette kissed me on the cheek and refused to answer any more questions about what mybrandwas.
I hadn’t been to Dark Magic in the daytime yet and the outside of the store looked significantly more normal in the rush of late-afternoon crowds. I had never had a job before, but I could see myself working in a place like this, donning black clothing as a sort of uniform, braiding my hair out of my face, adopting an expression of pointed disinterest.
I pushed into the space and the inside looked different, too. It was brighter, for one thing; the sunlight filtered through the store windows and washed everything in a thin, winter glow. The person standing behind the register was, unfortunately, not the cute girl. It was a very tall man with soft pink hair and a lime-green jumpsuit. He didn’t quite fit into the aesthetic of the store but he alsodidlook strange enough (in a good way) to be here. He smiled when he saw me. He was much more smiley than the girl had been.
“Hey, there. Welcome to Dark Magic. What brings you in today? Horoscope book? Tarot cards? Crystal collection?”
“Oh, no, I actually was, um, this is weird, but there was this, I was wondering if you could—”
“Maybe,” the man said, his smile getting wider.
“Sorry?”
“Maybe,” the man said. “Her name. Maybe. Like—maybeyou didn’t come in here to ask about the cute girl who works nights, but I have a feeling you did, and her name is Maybe.”
“Maybe,” I repeated, feeling a slight rush of warmth around my neck area (pale skin, easy blushers, curse of the Farthings). “I mean. I was, yeah. Asking about her. Going to ask about her. She helped me and I wanted to say, um… thanks. So, um. You know. Thanks. Thanks also to you. Thanks to both of you.”
“She’s on at seven most nights, goes to school during the day. She’s one of the coolest people I’ve ever met, but don’t youdaretell her I said that. I’m Jon. Can I help you with something? I know I’m not as sultry and attractive as our dear Maybe, but I still know which crystals will dispel bad dreams. Have you been having bad dreams? Sorry for presuming, I just get the feeling. Also don’t tell her I said that, the sultry and attractive bit.”
I laughed—half nervous, half genuine. “Idohave bad dreams, actually, but I have another question, sort of a weird question. I don’t really know if—”
“Try me. I’ve worked here for a while. The dress code hasn’t worn off on me, but I do know a lot about weird shit.”
