‘Most people’s lives aren’t as complicated as yours. Sorry, Em, it was a dumb question.’
‘It was a great question,’ I argued. ‘I just need a little longer to come up with a good answer. You go first, what would you do?’
‘Wake up early, play some ball, head home for grandmother’s fried chicken steak then get in my time machine and head back to June fourth 1976. Courtside seats at the NBA finals game five, Boston Celtics, Phoenix Suns, triple overtime, Celtics win 128 to 126 and go on to win the series. Go Celtics. You’re coming with me, obviously.’
‘Yes to lunch, no to the game. People who sit in courtside seats are asking to get a basketball in the face. But I am impressed at how fast you answered. How come you’re a Boston fan?’
The awkward weight of a complicated answer shifted off my shoulders and onto his.
‘One time, a few years ago, Mom mentioned our dad grew up in Massachusetts.’
The twins never, ever mentioned their father and I knew his confession was a precious gift. He tugged at the cuff of his shirt, eyes darting away, but vulnerability looked good on him.
‘I don’t know what I’d do because I’m not even sure who I am anymore,’ I admitted, a return offering of honesty. ‘Anything in the past would hurt too much, the present is not what I thought it would be, and the future I thought I’d have seems kind of impossible now.’
‘Not everyone knows what they want to do with their life at seventeen,’ Jackson said, adjusting the corsage on my wrist. ‘How about we start with tonight and go from there?’
‘Deal,’ I replied, slapping my hand into his, content that my future, at least for tonight, was something to look forward to.
Chapter Six
‘Welcome to the Oglethorpe Country Day Co-Ed Varsity Fundraiser,’ Jackson announced as we passed into a huge ballroom, already packed full of teachers, kids and parents, each and every one of them dressed to the nines. I pulled back slightly from the sea of bodies in front of us. I wasn’t used to this many people in such an enclosed space and I felt an unwelcome tingling all over my skin, magical self-defence.
‘Good luck fitting all of that on one banner,’ I said, exhaling slowly until the feeling settled. ‘Who or what is an Oglethorpe?’
‘James Oglethorpe, the founder of Savannah. He came over on the HMSAnnewith your ancestors but he ditched and sailed back to England in 1734. He thought Savannah was going to be a kind of utopia but it didn’t quite turn out that way.’
‘Ten points for optimism, I guess.’
‘Wild to think he would’ve known our ancestors.’
‘Isn’t it?’ I replied, unable to stop myself from wondering if Mr Oglethorpe was a friend to the Bell and Powell women or … not.
I looked around the party, bass already thumping through the floor, a bar set up on either side of the room, all the kidscrowding one, the adults swarming the other. It was easy to guess which side had the alcohol.
‘What do you want to do first?’ Jackson asked. ‘Get something to eat, grab a drink, dance? There are a million people I want you to meet, everyone is dying to say hello.’
It was one thing to feel at ease with Jackson but the thought of meeting his super-cool basketball buddies made my stomach churn and my tongue twist until just the idea of talking to them was an impossible feat. Still, talking to strangers had to be easier than dancing. Sure, on a good day I could see into the past, present and future, but move my hands, feet and body in rhythm at the same time? Simply asking too much.
‘Eat?’ I said, choosing the option with the least potential for humiliation.
‘I really hoped you were going to say that, I am starving.’
Jackson slapped his flat stomach before practically dragging me across the room towards a huge buffet station covered in silver dishes and bowls, some of them on ice, some of them steaming, and all of them manned by very serious-looking men and women in white jackets and chef’s hats.
‘This place has some of the best food in town but you have to attack it with a plan.’ He picked up a large dinner plate from one end of the table and handed it to me. ‘With all those parties last year, I got pretty up close and personal with the catering here. Forget about the vegetables, not worth it. Bread is a waste of time, you’ll fill up and miss out on the good stuff. The mini pimento grilled cheese and the crab cakes are god tier, and if you see a server go by with shrimp skewers, grab as many as you can. Forget about good manners, we do not mess around when it comes to appetizers.’
‘Shrimp skewers, got it,’ I repeated as Jackson turned his attention to a large man with an even larger carving knife, standing behind the biggest turkey I had ever seen.
‘I’m actually not that hungry just yet,’ I said, quietly setting my plate back on the pile, my date mesmerized as he watched the chef sharpen his carving knife. ‘Why don’t I find us somewhere to sit while you load up?’
‘Sure,’ he said, eyes glazing over at the sight of a massive side of ham. ‘I’ll come find you.’
Caught in the lure of the buffet’s siren song, Jackson drifted away to pile his plate high. Fully aware nothing and no one could compete with the call of a sixteen-year-old boy’s empty stomach, I took myself off to one of the tables at the edge of the dance floor to wait for him. If there was one thing I was good at, it was hiding in plain sight. I’d been the new girl more times than I could count and blending into the background had been my super power long before I discovered I was a witch. Moving every couple of years, combined with my dad’s strict no-cell-phone-and-no-social-media-until-you’re-seventeen rule meant long-lasting friendships were a struggle, and while I was a pro when it came to making small talk with my dad’s co-workers, I was far less talented at conquering conversations with people my own age.
Living in the countryside sounds romantic until you realize you’re the only teenager for miles around, especially if you happen to be in a European country where no one your age speaks English. We never stayed in one place long enough for me to learn the local language and make real friends. By the time we moved to Wales, I was fourteen; and when Dad decided to teach me at home rather than send me to the local school, I was relieved. There was nothing more awkward than trying to fit in with a bunch of kids who had known each other their whole lives. And that was exactly how I felt in the ballroom of the DeSoto Hotel.
As he stood in line waiting for his cut of prime rib, Jackson was bombarded by friends, teammates, teachers, coaches, andeven, judging by the occasional blank look in his eyes, complete strangers. Everyone wanted to talk to him, be near him. Lydia once told me I shouldn’t look directly at her brother, that he was like the sun, one glance and he’d be burned into your retinas forever. It felt true. Everyone at the party wanted to be in his orbit, circling him impatiently until they got their chance to bask in the warm glow of his attention.
