The Tower.
“Oooh,” Lithie said.
You don’t grow up with a witchy mom without knowing the significance of The Tower. People unfamiliar with the arcana might ascribe more fear to Death or The Devil, but The Tower? That was the real bitch.
It signified your world was about to get rocked, big time.
The oven dinged and my mom patted me on the shoulder, standing up without a word.
“So,” Lithie said, lowering her voice. “How was your date, really?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He was nice enough. But I can’t stop thinking about Calder.”
“Wasn’t the whole point of no strings attached to not, you know, get attached?” Lithie asked. “And, wait, I thought you didn’t vibe. Why do you care?”
I worked my mouth, not sure how to answer. I’d never felt anything like I did with Calder. Not even with Graham. But I wasn’t ready to say that out loud.
I didn’t want this.
I specifically wanted something casual toavoidthis. Avoid spending my nights thinking about someone who doesn’t think about me.
“I lied,” I admitted. “I really like him.”
“Okay, we can fix this.” Lithie stood up, clapping her hands together like a drill sergeant.
“Fix this?” I pushed the tarot card around, watching the silver foil lightning glint in the wintry light.
“It’s Friday night. We’re going out and curing you of your dicknosis.”
chapter
twenty-nine
SHAY
Utah wasn’t exactly known for its nightlife. We had a bunch of weird rules around alcohol, which made getting wild a little difficult. Like bartenders could pour only a certain amount of alcohol, and we definitely couldn’t do things likedoubles.
There were only a few genuinely good places to go if you wanted to get drunk and dance. One of them, Church, was a rooftop bar built inside an old church. The vaulted ceiling had been retrofitted—instead of wood, clear glass hung between the spines. In the summer, the glass opened to the night sky.
“What about him?” Olly pointed to a man leaning against a window, the Salt Lake City skyline twinkling at his back.
“Or him!” Eames said, pointing to a shorter man that waited for a drink by the bar. “He’s cute. He’s giving Tom Holland.”
Theywerecute, but they weren’tCalder.
“I’m fucking losing it.” I groaned, putting my head in my hands.
I wasn’t an obsessive person.
But I couldn’t help wondering if what we had was special, or if he did this with everyone.
It was too early to be thinking about him this much, but it was like he was tugging on some invisible string inside me.
“We need more reinforcements,” Lithie said, and in a few short minutes the next round of shots came.
“Lemon drops?” Eames groaned. “You are determined to get everyone white-girl wasted.”
I quickly downed the sugary lemon cookie-like drink and ordered another.
