I squared my shoulders, a smirk on my lips. “Try to turn me into a toad.”
She balked. “But I’m not angry right now.”
“No.” I inched closer, and her eyes dropped to where my knee pressed into hers. “But you are nervous.”
She licked her lips. Those full, gorgeous lips.
Instinctively, I leaned in ever so slightly and whispered, “Try it.”
Her lips parted, and I swore she was going to close the distance between our mouths. In that moment, I didn’t care about the rules, about Dagmar, or about one more year at camp.
Consequences be damned, I needed to know what it felt like to have her lips on mine.
A loud, deep croak interrupted us.
We pulled apart to find that my backpack had disappeared, and in its place was a giant, wart-addled toad.
“Oh my goddess,” I said with a laugh. “Would you look at that? I’m still not a toad.”
Gwen’s laughter felt like the sweetest reward. She was so stubbornly surly that I felt like her smile was a gift that only I got to see.
Her cheeks flushed a brighter shade of crimson than her lips. “Next time, I’ll get you.”
I smiled back. “Next time.”
12
Gwen
Iwandered back toward my cabin in a blissfully dizzy saunter, my face turned up to the lush leaves of the trees lining the path. The sun was still barely visible over the mountains in the distance, so I knew I wasn’t late for curfew, but I quickened my lazy pace anyway. It was so peaceful here that I felt like I could roam for miles without seeing another human . . . or monster, I supposed.That would take some time to get used to, I thought just as I barreled headfirst into Faith.
“Hey!” she said, the shadows dissipating from around her. “I was looking for you. Where have you been? I thought you might want to make some friendship bracelets with our Flower Moon cabin colors?” She eyed my wrist. “You only have two right now, and it’s kind of sad.”
I chuckled, the blush still cooling from my cheeks. “I thought I’d just go for a little solo walk after dinner.”
Faith’s eyes caught on something over my shoulder. I twisted back to see Sabine wandering toward her cabin with a giant smile on her face and my mouth curled.
“Solo walk, huh?” Faith asked.
“It started out solo . . .” I brushed my bangs out of my eyes. “I wanted to, uh, appreciate the nature.”
“Mm-hmm, looks like you saw some beautiful scenery,” she jeered. “Is that why Sabine Stonewood is walking across camp with a post-orgasm glow?”
“She’s not!” I answered far too quickly. “We didn’t even kiss?—”
“Aha!” Faith leaped up and down as she pointed an accusatory finger at me. “But youweretogether.”
“Faith,” I whined. “Please, don’t tell anyone.”
“I would never!” Faith grabbed me by the forearms and wobbled me back and forth. “But I’m your camp bestie. Youhaveto tell me everything. It’s a witch rule.”
“It’s not a witch rule.” A warm feeling bloomed in my stomach.
“It’s an unwritten witch rule,” she countered. “Besties don’t keep secrets from each other, especially of the romantic kind.”
“Nothing happened, I swear,” I said defensively.
A little warm feeling bloomed in my stomach at the way she called me “bestie” though. I heard people call each other that all the time. It didn’t have to actually mean best friends . . . but no one had ever called me that before.
