Chapter 9

By the time lunch came around I was starving, I wish I had eaten breakfast. I waited to go to the courtyard, till Cameron showed up. Watching everyone sit and enjoy the sun reminded me of something mom said everyone has a little magic inside them.

“Hey, sorry for being late,” Cameron gasped, trying to catch his breath.

I helped him steady himself. “Did you run here?”

Once he caught his breath, he smiled holding up two brown paper bags. “I had to go get our lunches from my locker.” he explained.

“Our? How did you know I forgot to pack one?” I asked, taking the one he offered to me. And followed as he walked outside.

“I don’t actually know,” he laughed. “Something told me I needed to make you one too. Glad I listened.”

“Me too,” I responded. “Thank you.”

Looking at me, he smiled. “Anytime.”

We decided to sit on the grass underneath a tree away from everyone. Opening the bag, it was a stereotypical packed lunch: a Pb & j sandwich, potato chips, water, and an apple. I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. It was so normal and was just like Cameron.

“So, what was going on this morning?” he suddenly asked.

“I honestly do not know.” I sighed, unwrapping the sandwich. “Some blond guy knocked on the door demanding to be let in.”

“Did he say who he was?” He questioned, taking a bite out of his apple.

“He said his name was Evan, I think.” I strained trying to remember what his name was. “But when I wouldn’t let him in, he went nuts.”

“Nuts, how?”

I thought back as I ate, “He started banging on the door and screaming to be let in,” I responded once I swallowed what was in my mouth. “I’m seriously surprised you didn’t see him.”

“He probably saw me coming and took off.”

“Maybe.”

We finished eating rather quickly and just enjoyed being outside. It made me think of when we were in the woods, except everyone was enjoying the energy here. For the first time since moving here, everything seemed peaceful and calm.

“I wish everyday could be like this.”

“Like what?”

I turned to face him. “Normal.”

“Why would you want normal?” He laughed.

“Because I’ve never had it.”

“Well,” he started, placing his hand on top of mine. “Consider me your little bit of normal.”

Before I had a chance to respond, the teachers called everyone inside.

“Come on.” he said, helping me to my feet.

We dusted off our pants and followed everyone inside. We parted ways until art, where we were met with the eccentric attitude of Miss Zeric.

“OH! Wynter, just who I was looking for,” She rambled.

“Hello, Miss Zeric. Is everything alright?” I asked politely.

“Well in light of your family’s tragedy, the fire station wants to set up a memorial in honor of your father.” She explained.

Cameron placed a gentle hand on my arm, ready to provide comfort if needed “Instead of using a traditional photo, they decided they would like your permission to use the portrait you drew of your father for the memorial.” She explained in a rush. “Which I think is so sweet of them to do.”

I gaped, unsure if I should cry of happiness. “They are more than welcome to use my drawing and please tell them thank you for me.”

“Of course, dear.” She placed a hand on my shoulder before going to start class.

We swiftly sat in our seats, still in shock over the news. I wonder how mom is gonna take the news. She had still been locked in her room when I left this morning, so who knows, maybe this will snap her out of it?

“Hey,” Cameron whispered, “my parents were wondering why your mom wasn’t coming. Is she okay?”

“Not really,” I whispered back. “She’s been locked away in her room since that night.”

“What?”

“I’ve been able to get her to eat every now and again, but she’s definitely not up for dinner with your family.”

“I understand.”

Our conversation ended there for the time being as we focused on the lesson that Miss Zeric had prepared. To be honest I was only partially paying attention, my mind wandered, to nowhere in particular. I think I just wanted to escape the reality that had become my life recently.

“Wynter.”

A sudden hand on my shoulder snapped me back to real life.

“What?” I looked around at the emptying classroom.

“The bell rang.” Cameron explained “Time to go.”

I nodded and followed him through the crowded hallways on our way out.

“Are you wanting to head home before dinner?” Cameron questioned, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“Honestly? I would love nothing more than to avoid going home.”

“Alright, then off to my house we go.”

“You know, you haven’t really told me much about your family,” I commented as we walked.

“I haven’t?”

“Nope, tell me about them. What am I going to be walking into?”

“Well,” he chuckled, “My family was one of the original settlers of Witchitan.”

“Maybe our families knew each other.”

“Maybe,” he smiled. “My mom does real estate, and my dad owns Charlie’s Cafe.”

“Oh, so you come from a rich family?” I teased.

He smiled. “I wouldn’t say we’re rich, but we are well off.”

“Got it.” I laughed.

To say his house was beautiful would be an understatement. You could tell that it was an original building, much like my home. Only it was clear they did renovations to keep it looking new. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it was unlived in. Walking up to the front door, I could feel myself getting more and more nervous. Even though Cameron knew my secret and was fine with it, I had to keep my guard up around his parents. Usually, I would have my mom to ease the situation, but I was walking into unknown territory by myself.

“Mom, we’re here!” He called out, once he unlocked and opened the door.

The sound of high heels on hardwood floors echoed as someone came to greet us. Rounding the corner was a woman dressed head to toe in sparkly jewelry.

“Cameron, sweetie.” She cooed, pulling him in for a hug.

“Hi mom.” He rubbed her back before pulling away.

“And you must be Wynter,” she said as she engulfed me, squeezing me so tightly I could hardly breathe. Her perfume was overwhelming, her hair felt crunchy and reeked of hairspray. It seems like she was trying to put on her best face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs.…?” I trailed off.

“Oh, call me Christine, and the pleasure is all ours.” She pulled away.

I gave her a polite smile before looking over at Cameron, hoping he would provide some kind direction.

“Well,” Christine clapped her hands together, “dinner is just about finished in the oven so let’s go to the dining room to wait.”

We followed behind as she led the way.

“Is dad home?” Cameron asked as turned another corner. This house felt like a maze. All sorts of energy, new and old swirling together making it hard for me to focus.

“He’ll be here soon enough. He’s out wrapping things up at Charlie’s,” his mom responded, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “You’ve been to Charlie’s Cafe, haven’t you, Wynter?”

Her question felt more like an expectation. “Yes, ma’am. We ate there on our first day in town.”

“How sweet. I take it you enjoyed the food,” she stated.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Now he won’t admit it, but those are my recipes.” I could hear the smirk in her voice.

Finally, we entered the dining room. I was taken aback by how lavishly it was decorated. Vases overflowed with flowers, and the table was draped with a white tablecloth making the glimmering silver stand out against its simplicity.

Cameron’s mom sat down in one of the plush blue upholstered chairs. “Will your mother be joining us soon?”

I could feel her scrutinizing me, her rudimentary gaze following me. “No, ma’am.” I sat in the chair Cameron pulled out for me. “She couldn’t get out of a meeting with her editors about her upcoming deadline.” The lie slipped from my tongue.

She opened her mouth, no doubt to make a snarky comment about how it was inappropriate to send one’s child in their stead. I have only known this woman for 20 minutes and I could already tell that proper etiquette was something she revered. Though before any word could leave her mouth, the sound of keys jingling in a lock interrupted her.

“Christine!” I deep voice called out “Where are you sweetheart?”

Her smile grew, “The dining room dear.” She answered.

Soon a man in a dark gray suit, hair combed back with not a single strand out of place. He scanned the room, face unreadable. Cameron’s dad walked to greet his wife, giving her a small peck on the cheek before sitting at the head of the table.

“So,” he started with a rumbling voice. “What are we talking about?”

“Wynter was just telling us how her mother can’t make it.” Christine reached across the table lacing her fingers together with her husband.

“Is that so?” He inquired, eyes meeting mine.

I couldn’t help but feel small under his questioning gaze. “Yes, sir.”

I could tell they wanted to push more, but we were interrupted by a buzzer going off in the other room.

“That’s the chicken!” Christine exclaimed. “Wynter, would you be a dear and help me bring the food to the table?’

“Oh, I can help, Mom,” Cameron said, starting to get up from the table.

“It’s okay,” I told him, gently pulling him back to his chair. “Of course, I’ll help.”

This brought a smile to his mom’s face. Pushing my chair back, I proceeded to follow her to the kitchen. The food smelled amazing, making my mouth water in anticipation. The counters were covered with side dishes, corn, mashed potatoes, green beans etc. Christine stopped the buzzer and opened the oven.

“Oh, I just remembered,” She started putting on oven mitts and grabbing the chicken from the oven. “Cameron never told us your family’s name.”

“Oh?” I all but squeaked out in response. Did they not already know? With how things went at school I would have thought everyone in town knew.

“I can’t help but be a bit curious,” she stated.

She wasn’t even looking at me. Instead, her focus was on sharpening the knife in her hands. Though I knew it was for the chicken I still felt nervous. “You are?” I asked, eyes never leaving the blade she held in her hands.

“Please ease my curiosity,” she smirked, like she was asking about what boys I liked. The answer she was asking for was not something so easy to say. I have no reason to be ashamed of who my family was, but I haven’t had the best responses about my name since moving here.

I cleared my throat nervously. “My name is Wynter Morgan,” I said quietly, hoping she didn’t hear.

The silence that followed was deafening, only disrupted by the sound of a knife once held firmly in her grasp clattering against the ground. The noise must have been heard in the dining room because both Cameron and his father came rushing in shortly after.

“Everything okay in here?” Cameron asked, coming to stand next to me.

“Cameron Mikhale, you get away from her right now!” his mother demanded. His father stood by her side with a look of confusion.

“What? Why?” he asked, stepping in front of me.

“What’s going on, honey?” Cameron’s dad inquired, placing a hand on her back.

“Well, Chuck, that Morgan witch spelled our son and infiltrated our home!” she shouted, venom practically pouring from her mouth as she pointed an accusatory finger at me, causing me to stiffen.

“What are you talking about!?” Cameron all but shouted.

“I didn’t spell anyone!” I said with a mixture of anger and panic bubbling in my stomach.

Cameron’s mother scoffed in response. “Oh please! Your family cursed us all those years ago!” she stated angrily. “You expect me to believe that you’re any different!”

Finally, her husband spoke, his voice low and steady, yet so much scarier than his wife. “You,” he pointed to me. “Get out of our home, and don’t even think of stepping foot on our property again or you will face serious consequences,” he threatened.

“Wynter hasn’t done anything!” I heard Cameron yell as I was trying to find my way out in a rush.

I should have paid more attention earlier when we were walking to the dining room. I was running around, turning corners blindly trying to find an exit. At last, the front door came into my sight. Without any hesitation, I grabbed my backpack and left the house. Even when I no longer could see the house I kept running, trying to get as far away from it as possible. I didn’t stop running until I felt a hand grab my arm and turn me around.

“Wynter, stop!” They gasped, out of breath.

“Cameron? Were you following me?” I asked, breathing heavily. My lungs burned as I tried to give them the oxygen they were screaming for.

“I needed to make sure you were okay.” He stated, bringing a hand to face, wiping away tears I didn’t realize were there. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, eyes never leaving mine.

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to say that I wasn’t terrified, that his parents’ actions hadn’t affected me.

“No,” I said honestly. That simple admission was all it took for me to finally break down. “I can’t—” I tried to say but I was crying too hard to breathe properly.

“Can’t what?” He asked, voice still soft, steady.

“I can’t lose you too!” I breathed out as a sob wracked my chest. “My dad is dead, my mom is basically catatonic, you’re all I have left!”

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.” Bringing both hands to my face he turned my head to face him, like he was making sure I saw with my own eyes that he was standing right in front of me. “Nothing my parents said means anything to me.” He says, eyes boring into mine. “There’s no family curse, you didn’t cast a spell on me. I know that.”

“There is a curse! I saw it in a dream the first night here!” I said. “My ancestor put a curse on the Mikhale family before she died!” My hands went to my head, gripping my hair so tight I was probably ripping it out of my skin. But I had lost all feeling already.

“Wynter!” He exclaimed worry, lacing his voice. “Even if that’s true,”

“It is!”

“Okay,” He shushed. “It still has nothing to do with you, it wasn’t and isn’t your fault.”

“It was done by my family though!” I say as he gently removes my hands from my hair, stretching out my fingers with his. “You have every right to be angry, to hate me,” I continue rambling. At this point I wasn’t even sure what I was saying anymore, the panic had exploded out, clouding my head and making my ears hear nothing but the pounding of my heart.

Suddenly though, everything was quiet. I could smell the mixture of cologne and sweat that lingered on his skin before anything else, then his hands gently squeezing mine, and lastly his lips. His lips were softly pressed against my own, eyes closed as he brought me closer. After he felt me calm down a bit, he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against mine.

“I don’t hate you,” He said just loud enough for me to hear. “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” He chuckled softly. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you every step, until you tell me to leave.”

Letting go of my hands, he wrapped his arms around me finally grounding me, allowing me to fully relax. My tears long run dry and now exhaustion overwhelmed me. “Can you take me home?” I whisper.

He lightly grasped my shoulders pulling me back before intertwining our hands together again. “Of course.”

He silently walked me back home, hand never leaving mine, every now and again giving me a reassuring squeeze. It’s surprising just how close our homes were, taking no more than 15 minutes for us to get to our destination. Walking through the front door, the cold silence for once was a form of comfort. Reluctantly, I let my hand slip from his.

“I should make my mom some food.” I muttered, part of me afraid to look him in the eyes.

Nonetheless he follows me to the kitchen without question. Silently watching as I made my mom a sandwich and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. After a moment of thought I added some chips to the plate and took a deep breath.

“Are you alright?” He asked, making me jump slightly at the unexpected noise.

“Uh yeah. I’m just gathering up the courage to face her,” I explained.

“Want me to go with you?” he asked. “Maybe seeing a new face will snap her out of it.”

“No, that’s okay. Just—” I cut myself off, embarrassment causing heat to gather in my cheeks. “Please, don’t go anywhere.” My voice grew quieter with each word.

A smile grew on his face. “I told you earlier, didn’t I? I won’t go until you say the words.”

I give him a small smile in response. I then grabbed the plate and cautiously walked to my mom’s room. I opened the door expecting to see her sitting in the same place staring at the wall, instead I walked in to see her fast asleep. The only thing that hasn’t changed was the pillow still clutched to her chest. It was a relief to see her resting so I didn’t dare wake her up. I decided to place the plate on the table next to the bed and leave her to her dreams. Carefully I closed the door as softly as I could so as to not wake her.

I started walking back to the kitchen I had left Cameron in. I couldn’t help but fear that he had left in my absence. But I was pleasantly surprised when I rounded the last corner.

“You’re still here?” I asked in a sigh of relief.

He let out a chuckle as he stood and walked to me. “What? Did you expect me to leave?”

“Kinda actually.” I laughed.

Suddenly my attention shifted from the boy in front of me to a figure standing behind him. It was one I had come to recognize instantly.

“Amelia?” I questioned.

“Who?” He asked, turning to try and see what or rather who I was looking at.

“Follow me.” And just like that she was gone.

I turned around, frantically trying to spot where she had gone. It wasn’t until I looked at the stairs that I finally saw her again. Instantly I was rushing in her direction, the sound of footsteps behind me signaling that Cameron was following suit.

“Wynter, what’s going on?” He called out.

“Amelia,” I stated, eyes not leaving her figure for even a second. “She’s here.”

“Who’s Amelia?” He asked, still following behind as I took the stairs two steps at a time.

By the time I made it to the top though she was gone. Breathing heavily, I desperately searched for her. Cameron grabbed my shoulders, making my head snap to look at him.

“Wynter, who’s Amelia?”

“She’s the one who placed the curse.”