As she dipped her paintbrush back into the tiny pot beside her, she laughed lightly. “I didn’t peg you for a sporty witch. I always assumed your affinity would be toward something slightly darker.”
“Definitely,” I agreed, watching as she returned her attention to the smooth rock in her hand. “What are you doing?”
She turned her hand around to reveal the jack-o’-lantern she’d painted on the rock. It was impressively done with shading and tight lines. It didn’t surprise me that Sabine was also an artist. Maybe it was linked to her affinity.
“I hide them in the pumpkin patch for the kids during the Halloween Festival,” she said with a grin. “One year, they practically became a currency. The kids traded them for kettle corn, apple cider, and games at the different fair stalls.”
“That’s adorable.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it came out anyway.
Sabine’s eyes saddened unexpectedly, making me wish I could take the admission back. “I still care about my town, my people, even if I want to move away. I’m not going to cut them out just because I want to experience something new.”
“Okay,” I hedged, knowing that there was a whole bunch of context I was missing.
But she seemed so sad that I wandered over without thinking and sat down beside her. I didn’t know what to say, so I mindlessly picked up a rock and started painting a cartoon ghost with rosy heart cheeks on it. I stuck my tongue out to the side asI concentrated on the apparition, sitting so close that Sabine and I were fused from shoulder to knee.
I felt her eyes on me as I focused on my painting.
“I thought you wanted us to keep our distance?” she asked.
“I did,” I admitted with a sigh. I’d known she was going to throw that choice back in my face, but it didn’t make the moment playing out between us any less awkward.
“Then why are you here painting a very cute poltergeist on a rock while sitting right beside me?” She added little dots of fall leaves around her pumpkin. “You said?—”
“I’m taking it back. I’ve changed my mind and think we should be friends,” I replied. “I’m a fickle witch, apparently. Sorry.”
I could see her eyes crinkle from my periphery. “I like it when you call yourself a witch,” she admitted. “So, why the change of heart?”
I shrugged. “Because you’re the only person who makes this camp bearable.”
“You seem to be getting along with your cabinmates,” Sabine mused. “You’re making plenty of other friends.”
“They’re great, but it’s not the same as being your . . . friend.” The word “friend” came out a garbled mess, like my body was rejecting it.
Sabine laughed. “Friend,” she repeated, tossing the title around as she weighed her head side to side. “I think I might have a hard time with that, but I’d like to try.”
I finally looked at her. We were so close that I could feel her body heat as her eyes snagged on my mouth.
“I might have a hard time with that too,” I whispered, feeling Sabine’s breath hot on my lips.
She swallowed. “Like right now, for example,” she murmured, leaning closer. She was only a hair’s breadth away. “This is one of those hard-to-be-just-friends moments.”
“Yeah,” I agreed breathlessly.
“I really,reallywant to kiss you.”
“I really,reallywant you to kiss me.”
I leaned in.
“Gwen!” a singsong voice called from outside. “You in there? You can’t hide from me, missy!” Faith continued talking as she marched up the steps to the front door. “The Flower Moons won! We’re going to challenge the Blood Moon cabin next. I don’t think we’ll be as lucky with them. They’re cutthroat. But whoever wins that will face the other camps in kickball in the summer games. We could be champions?—”
The art hut door was thrown open, and Faith’s rambling halted as Sabine and I shot apart. Granted, we’d had ample warning, but my eyes had been magnetized to Sabine’s mouth. It had taken the door opening to break the spell.
I hastily scrambled into a chair on the other side of the table. “Uh, yep! Cool! Congratulations.”
Faith’s smile faltered. She looked suspiciously at Sabine and then back to me. I saw the exact moment when she decided not to say anything. Though, I knew she’d make me spill every detail later.
“It’s lunchtime now,” Faith said. “You hungry? It’s roasted quail and pomme frites.”
