‘That does not make me feel better.’ Lara shrugged. ‘I dunno. It’s all so grim. Watching Tiff all googly-eyed over her internet boyfriend. Seeing poor Rosie trying to come to terms with Charlie’s death. At least your parents seem to have something good. Even if your mom is the most Type A person I’ve ever met in my life.’
Now it was my time to cackle. ‘So Type A. Thank goddess she didn’t pass it down to me.’
‘Super glad you missed that toxic trait.’ Lara grinned. ‘But yeah, this Jack thing is definitely just a fling. It’s the Lara Corman way. It’s better for everyone.’
‘So no feelings at all?’
‘In this stone-cold heart?’ Lara made a fist and tapped it to her chest. Although her gaze flickered away – hmm.
‘And ifhecatches feelings?’ I pressed.
‘Ugh.’ Lara made the expression of someone who’d just found a fly floating in their cardamom-spice latte. ‘I’ll just end it. I’m not going to pretend to be into some guy just to keep his ego all safe and protected.’
She rolled over to apply sunscreen, adding with a sing-song lilt to her voice: ‘Unlike some …’
I didn’t even have time to respond, because at that moment, Rosie, Mom, the boys and Tiff all showed up. Mom carted a vast drink dispenser filled with some sort of fruity blend, and Rosie and Tiff were laden with towels and umbrellas. The boys carried a cooler each, and were walking as far apart as possible down the boardwalk.
‘Wow, talk about human thunder-clouds,’ noted Lara. ‘What did you do, Miss Molly?’
‘Nothing,’ I promised. Though I hid my freshly painted toenails from view. ‘It was just some eighties karaoke. That’s it.’
‘Mm hmm. Hey, boys,’ she drawled, finishing up her sunscreen efforts. ‘I’m sensing there’s going to be some friendly competition today. May the best team – and the best man – take home the prize.’
Lara made ata-dagesture in my direction, at which I managed to conjure a quick zap of magic that caused her umbrella to topple, covering her with its bright stripes. She squealed as she tried to fend it off.
‘Just ignore her,’ I said awkwardly, torn between the twin gazes of the brothers. Finn shrugged idly.
‘I’m not worried,’ he said easily. ‘I know my own power.’
He snapped his fingers, and a sand castle burst up from the ground around him, glimmering as he stepped through it and over to the ropes that marked the boundaries of the soccer pitch. A sandy crown gleamed on his head.
A couple of the college girls whooped at the sight, their phones flashing as they filmed their sand-covered prince approaching the pitch.
‘I think that says all you need to know,’ said Noah. With a shrug, he went over to help out the college kids, who were still struggling with the goal. Unlike Finn, who was happily flinging his magic all over, Noah helped them figure out the PVC pipes and attach the net manually. Then he walked the boundaries of the pitch, making sure it was all in order.
‘Ugh, you can’t just magic your way out of a love triangle, Molly!’ Lara huffed, when she emerged from her umbrella situation. Which I’d admittedly hexed just enough to keep her nose out of my business for a minute or so.
‘Who said I was planning on doing that?’
Lara raised an eyebrow. ‘I meant the umbrella. But I guess you had something else in mind.’
I fiddled with my notepad, thinking. I hadn’t even thought of trying a love spell. Love spells weren’t exactly uncommon, of course, but they were one of those things you were warned about. They were up there with necromancy or fiddling around with gravity. The results generally weren’t worth it: you ended up with all sorts of weird outcomes, and the police were almost always called. Explaining why your dead cousin Boris was wandering around after being interred some fifty years before wasn’t much fun.
But my musings on love spells were interrupted by Mom, Tiff and Rosie, who had planted themselves on the towels on either side of us. They’d finally wrapped up the chit-chat they’d been having with Alberta, who opened late onThursdays and was enjoying her usual stroll along the beach beforehand.
Alberta gave a wave and continued along the beach, her bangles jangling and the colourful scarf tied to her sunhat whipping about like a kite.
‘Who’s up for punch?’ asked Rosie, waving some melamine cups in our direction. Rosie didn’t abide single-use plastic, and refused to purchase anything that was packaged in anything other than paper or tin. Fortunately, Whisperwind Cove on the whole agreed with her. Pretty much everything here was designed to be reused or composted.
‘Hair of the dog, Mol,’ said Lara, giving me a nudge. ‘Make hers a double,’ she added, making amore, moregesture as Rosie filled a cup. Lara passed the brimming cup to me, barely avoiding spilling it. ‘Here you go, babe.’
Mom absently took a similarly full cup, managing it handily as she typed an email on her phone with her free hand. Tiff politely grabbed a half-serving, using the sand as a cupholder as she pulled out her current paperback – one that she’d purchased from Leon the other day. Lara and Rosie giggled as they filled each other’s cups, then chugged a solid half of their drinks before plonking down on their seats.
‘Ooh, ground’s getting a bit low,’ said Rosie with a chuckle. ‘Glad I brought some extra cushions. So, who are we betting on today?’
Sandy Balls, or, more properly, the Beach Soccer Tourney, which was how I’d refer to it in my article, was an annual tradition among Summerween visitors. Everyone who was still in a fairly upright state after two straight weeks of beach bonfires participated, with the grand prize being Rosie’s famous pineapple upside-down cake. This was currently sitting on a huge trestle table beneath a glass dome jar. The rest of the table was set up with platters of cheeses, chopped fruit, and dips and bread, with a light chilling spell cast over it all to keep flies and cheese sweat at bay.
Ordinarily, I’d be at the table filling a plate, but my stomach was of a particularly delicate constitution today. Instead, I peered over at the soccer pitch, using my giant sunglasses as a shield as I snuck a peek at Finn and Noah in turn. Seemingly unaffected by our late night, Finn was turning cartwheels along the water’s edge as a group of kids cheered him on. I smiled, marvelling at how Finn always brought lightness to the moment, whatever it was.
