Spells for Forgetting(35)

She bit the inside of her cheek, letting out a heavy breath. “I meant it when I said I can’t do this, August.”

“Well, I can’t leave until we do.” I just said it. There was no point in skirting around it. We weren’t going to get another chance.

She swallowed, staring at the screen of the laptop before she turned it toward me. A faculty photo of me on the Everdeen College website took up half the screen.

“Somerfield,” she said, hollowly.

I studied her face for any clue as to what she was thinking. It wasn’t a question, but I still felt like I was supposed to give her an answer. “We changed it,” I said, “after.”

One of the first things my mother had done when we landed in Prosper was change our names. She was terrified someone would see the newspapers from Portland or Seattle and realize who I was.

“Well, that explains why I couldn’t find you.”

Heat crept up the back of my neck, making me shift on my feet. “Find me?”

“Come on, August. Don’t be an asshole.” She sighed.

“I’m not. I honestly wasn’t sure if you—”

“Well, I did,” she said flatly. “For way too long.”

The heat on my skin was almost a fire now, making a cold sweat bead along my hairline. I’d known it would hurt her when I left, but I also knew that I was doing her a favor, whether she knew it or not. I told myself the same thing I’d told myself for years—that it was so long ago that it didn’t matter now anyway. So, why did I feel like my chest was caving in?

“I’m sorry about your mom.” She turned the laptop back around and closed it, making the shop even darker. “I should have said that earlier.”

“Thanks.” I cleared my throat. “And I heard about Hannah. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah” was her only reply. “When is the funeral?”

“I don’t know if it’ll really be a funeral, but I’m waiting for Zach to tell me when he’ll have the plot dug. Maybe a day or two.”

“Will you let me know?”

I stilled. “Sure.”

I don’t know why that was the thing that made the lump come up into my throat. I turned, letting my eyes roam over the shop so that I didn’t have to look at her. I’d forgotten how she did that—always looking me right in the eye like she could hear every single thought.

“So, you took over your mom’s shop.” I changed the subject.

For a moment, she looked embarrassed. “You probably think that’s pathetic,” she murmured.

“No. Hannah would have liked that.”

A small smile pulled at her lips. “Yeah, I guess she would have.”

On Saoirse, the young inherited from the old in both life and trade. The only other option was to leave, like my dad did. If things had gone differently, Emery and I would have done the same. I tried not to think about where we might be now if we had.

“You’re a teacher now?” she asked.

“I am.”

“You like it?”

I smiled, surprising myself. “I kind of love it, actually.”

“Good.”

When her eyes finally met mine again, I reminded myself to breathe. She was still so beautiful, in that kind of sea-swept way she’d always been. It hurt to look at her.

I drew in a long breath and let it go. The longer I stood there, the more unsure I was of what I was going to do. I had to get this over with.

“Look, Em…”

“You could have said goodbye.” She cut me off, eyes glinting. They sparkled with what looked like tears and I willed myself not to look away from her.

I knew what she thought. That I had been a coward. That I’d been selfish. And she was right. About all of it.

“No.” I paused. “I couldn’t.” The words wouldn’t come, but I could tell by the way her mouth tilted that she knew my meaning. If I’d said goodbye, I would have never been able to leave. And that wasn’t an option.

She stared at me, warring with herself over what she was going to say next. Whatever it was, I’d lived in fear of it for a long time.

“August—”

The door to the shop opened behind me, and I turned as Dutch Boden ducked inside, pulling open his dripping jacket without even looking up. When he finally did, he stopped short, eyes going wide.

His long blond hair almost reached his shoulders, streaked with sunlight. He was tall now, taller than I would have imagined.

His blue eyes jumped from me to Emery. “August.” He said my name like it stung in his mouth. “Hey, man.”

Emery wiped at the corner of her eye, and the air shifted in the room with something I wasn’t putting together.

“Hey.” I stepped forward, extending a hand toward Dutch because I didn’t know what else I could do. We weren’t strangers, but we weren’t friends anymore, either.

He took it, shaking firmly. “I heard you were back.” Still, Dutch was looking to Emery, like he was waiting for her to say something.

“Just for a few days.”

An unsettling quiet fell in the shop as the three of us stared at one another and I couldn’t help but wonder if we were all thinking about the only one of us who wasn’t there: Lily. It had always been the four of us.