“Oh, what gave me away? Was it the text this morning that said ‘I desperately need advice,’ or was it the part where I said ‘no one else can know’?” I quip.
“Both.”
We laugh in unison before settling into a comfortable silence. This is why I like Howie so much. He doesn’t push me to always fill the voids. He’s okay with me sharing only what I’m comfortable with. Ariella would never be that way, she needs every minute detail. That’s precisely why I chose Howie and not my lovable bestie for this conversation.
Howie pulls the car into a small parking lot that ends at the edge of the beach. We get out and shuffle into the restaurant. It’s quaint with wood-paneled walls and nautical decor. The windows are shaped like portholes, and after a few glasses of wine, I’m sure I’d believe I was inside an actual boat. It smells like the ocean with fresh, whole fish displayed alongside a lobster tank at the host stand.
“I made a reservation for Howie,” he says to a cute girl with blonde hair and a bright orange BoatHouse T-shirt.
“Hi, Howie, come with me,” she coos. I can see the interest in her eyes, and my heart tumbles for Ariella. Howie is adorable. He has a secret hot body hidden under his clothes, and she is going to miss her chance if she doesn’t get on it soon.
“Is this table okay?” she asks, sizing me up as if to decide whether this is a date or not.
“It’s perfect. Thanks,” I reply, sliding into a wooden booth that has a compass etched into the table under a thin layer of polyurethane.
Howie slides into his side and pulls the menus from where they are tucked behind a condiment caddy, handing me one.
“That girl was into you, Howard,” I say before grasping the menu and opening it to browse.
“No, she wasn’t. I’m not the type that gets girls by walking into a restaurant. That would be Sam.” He shrugs and pulls open his menu for a second before closing it and laying it on the table.
“Well, that’s just what I wanted to hear today,” I groan.
“It’s the truth. Sorry, Ollie.” He shrugs again.
“We need to come up with another nickname. Ollie is what Ari calls me, and I hate it. How about just Olive?” I suggest.
“Nah, I like Ollie. It fits. But actually, don’t look at the menu. I’m ordering us sushi, it’s the best around. You do like sushi, right?” Howie asks.
“I love it, that sounds perfect.” I close my menu, and he places them back where they belong.
“Can I get you two something to drink?” a server whose name tag reads Harper asks.
“I’ll just have a Diet Coke, please,” I respond, while Howie orders a water and tells her we want the sushi platter. Harper jots our order down in her notebook and walks away.
“Okay, so what is the big thing you wanted to discuss?” He eyes me suspiciously, like he thinks I’m here to talk about my arm. I’m not. Well, not completely.
“I think I might be in love with Sam, but also I think what is going on with us might be completely fake given the circumstances,” I blurt out, covering my face with my hands. Harper delivers our drinks and quickly scurries away.
“And you thought I was the right person to discuss this with?” he questions.
“Well, I mean, yeah. You know us both, and you’re the only other person who’s met Irina. I thought maybe you could give me some advice or something to help me figure it out.”
“Look, Ollie, I’m not really qualified in the love department. But I think Sam really cares for you. The day your parents came to town, he was an absolute mess wondering if you were ghosting him, and that was before he even knew they were visiting. I get why you feel like you can’t trust anything right now. I felt that way for a long time after meeting her, and I didn’t even get cursed. You have to trust your instincts though. You need to find a way to decipher what’s real from what’s not.” Our server places down a gorgeous platter of sushi, briefly halting our conversation.
“How do I do that, though? I have spent so much time thinking about it, and I feel like the only way I will ever know fully is if I don’t have this thing on my arm. I mean, I’m questioning everything. Each time I share something with him about myself, I have a tiny voice inside my head asking if I’m sharing it because I feel safe with him or because he can clearly see it anyway,” I explain. I need someone to understand my hesitation here. Without that understanding, I just look like a big scaredy-cat.
“Ollie, I don’t think you need me to tell you what to do. I think your mind is already made up. The only problem now is that we don’t have a plan of how to find Irina so we can get rid of this thing.” Howie brings some much-needed logic to the situation as he pops a piece of spicy tuna roll in his mouth.
I point my chopsticks at him and chew my own mouthful of raw fish thoughtfully. “I know that, but she said if I don’t embrace it, then I’ll never be able to open up. I’ll be just like her, Howard. An old witchy woman who dies alone.”
“Ollie, come on. You know that’s not true. You are going to be whoever you decide to be, magic be damned. Just like with your mom. She wanted you to be one thing, but here you are, working and living your life.” He is so matter-of-fact about it, confident that this decision is mine. But it doesn’t feel like it is at all. Itfeels like the moment I turned around and uttered those very first words to Irina, everything changed for good.
“I saw something at the house.” Howie’s eyebrows shoot up as he nods for me to continue. “On the table, under their names . . . it said never again will we wear our hearts on our sleeves.”
“What does that mean? What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, what if this is a trick? What if she purposefully did this to mess with me, to hurt me.”
