It buzzed less than thirty seconds later, surprising her.
Unknown: There she is
Unknown: I asked Maddison for it. She's in my third period.
She frowned. He'd asked her friend Maddison for her number? And she gave it to him?
Unknown: To her credit, she was skeptical and told me if I abused it or hurt you she would hurt me or tell your coven to hex me.
Bess smiled. That sounded like Maddison.
Bess: Ok. Well, they will hex you if you do anything stupid.
Unknown: I don't believe in hexes, remember? Wink
Bess: Your lack of belief is not required for them to have power
Unknown: That was deep, coffee girl
She frowned at the nickname. Both at the use of one and the specificity of her part-time job. How much did he know about her?
Unknown: I'll see you at school. Feel free to save my contact as "Sexy J man"
She laughed, which came out as more of a snort, causing Casper to lift his head.
Bess: Yeah, pass.
Unknown: Wink
Bess set the phone on her bedside table and sighed.
If she told Ursula and Eloise what was going on with Jeremy, they would pity her. It was embarrassing, having someone fall for you because of magic.
Or maybe they could fix it, but then...
But then it would be fixed.
The pictures that hung in The Crescent Inn, the old and the new, all hung crooked on the walls. Every time Tilly passed by a room she would stop and sigh before she tipped them all back into place, having figured out by lunchtime that they would un-right themselves once she left the room. One was missing, as it had crashed to the ground this morning, the glass in pieces. The picture and its frame were now tucked in the small office under the stairs for repair, and the slip of paper that had fallen from behind it was in her hand.
Just a little imagination and an oomph of belief."
They had been Mrs. Ling's words. Were these notes from Mrs. Ling? Left for her as she slowly undid and redressed this beautiful house? But that would have had to happen years ago. She sighed and put the paper on the small desk.
Being able to walk by the room, bypassing haphazardly hung paintings was not a strength Tilly possessed.
"Tilly!"
She whirled toward the staircase, where Fae was descending wearing flowing black pants and a white blouse. She looked regal. Except for her hair. Normally sleek and perfectly in place, her hair hadn't seen a brush or a perfecting hot tool, and it looked out of place, floating around her shoulders without its usual strict instructions. She hadn't seen her sister this way, imperfect, since high school.
Tilly smiled as Fae made her way to the foyer.
"Hey, remember when you got that perm in high school? You stole money from mom's purse because she wouldn't take you to do it." She smiled widely at the memory. Their mother had been right not to take Fae to get a perm.
Fae's face took on a more severe pinched look than the one moments before, slender hand on a hip.
"How could you bring up such a painful memory amid my current pain? Are you fueled by cruelty?"
"Ah, no," Tilly quickly replied, regretting dipping into a moment of shared memories with her sister. She forgot how easily her sister found that an act of aggression. "What's up?"
