With a nod at his own words, he took a step, rounding the table.
I raised my eyebrows. “You really think that’s going to work?”
“I guess we will see, won’t we?” Ryan smiled, picking up one of the sachets. He lifted the tiny cloth bag up into the air. “What a perfect little smelly thing. I could put this in my closet and make all my clothes smell like the wonderful Luella Pierce.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to smile. “Stop it.”
“And this?” Ryan moved on to the other section, lowering his voice. “Spells. Like witchcraft? Woman seller, is this witchcraft?”
It took everything I had not to burst out into laughter.
“Oh, yes.” I waved my hand toward the bottle of what was not one of the spells, but a canister of Sleep Better tea. “Only the finest in all of Barnett.”
Oddly enough, my near combustion of laughter, as well as Ryan’s intent looking, began to draw more glances, a few people looking over the table with a pause.
“What’s this?” One girl stopped, glancing over the assortment. “Oh my goodness. Is this, like, a little artist market thing? What a cute idea.”
“It can definitely be that,” Ryan agreed without agreement.
“Hey, man!” Another group of people approached from the business building a little ways up the greenway, only this set obviously knew Ryan and hadn’t expected to see him. All of them were fit and full of grins as they reached out toward him. Only after they exchanged greetings did the Barnett football team look over the table. “What’s all this?”
“We’re selling …” Ryan trailed off, looking at me, as if he was searching for the right word of what exactly we were selling on campus.
We had to be coy, according to Vadika, if we didn’t want to be reprimanded for being an off-campus vendor or nonclub with no permission.
So, basically, we had one rule to exude. Confidence.
“Apothecary goods,” I offered.
Ryan repeated the words, as if that were exactly what was stuck on the tip of his tongue.
“Is this some sort of joke?” One of them laughed.
If they thought it was, so be it.
Ryan maintained firmly. He raised his eyebrows, but the rest of his face remained calm and unaffected. “Nope.”
There was a long pause, a few reconsidered nods.
“Okay then,” said Ryan’s teammate. “Cool.”
“I think so.” He grinned. “Want something?”
The one guy beside Ryan shrugged. “What do ya got?”
I dipped my head down, and this time, I didn’t stop the small smile on my lips as I turned away from them as another someone stopped, picking up a few of the spells with tiny instructions on them. His fingers were gentle as he skimmed over each, forehead crinkling in concentration as he read over the instructions.
“What’s this?” He lifted the small mason jar.
I glanced at it, seeing the flash of what was inside at once. “Motivation jar spell.”
“How is it for motivation?” The guy rocked back and forth, looking this way and that as the table began to draw a few more people with wandering eyes.
Could this be working?
Hope surged.
I could answer that even better than the last. “Basil for luck, cinnamon for motivation, rosemary for clear thinking, coffee for a little energy during late-night study sessions. Plus, I added a bit of lavender for anxiety relief. Hard to be productive when you’re dreading the future, right?”
