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“Oh my god,” Tess gushed. “I’ve noticed that before, but I thought that was just a trait of your family’s wine.”

Alana smirked. “Well, it is,” she teased. “But the tingling doesn’t continue. Once the magic settles, then things go well for you. Conversations are easier, the hard things in life tend not to feel so hard or burdensome. It’s like having the best day, when everything simply goes well.”

“Have you tested that theory though?” Courtney asked.

“About consuming more of the wine to gain more luck?”

She nodded.

“Um…I guess not, no.” Alana sat up straight. “But I’m pretty positive it won’t make a difference. I’ve been consuming from the soil my whole life, and it has never felt stronger or weaker.”

Courtney tilted her head, deep in thought. Then she nodded, dropping the subject. But it only took a couple more weeks for her to bring it back up. She asked Alana to bring Marien wine to a party—a lot of it.

When she arrived with only one bottle, Courtney was visibly upset.

“If I’d brought more than this, my parents would have noticed,” Alana whispered.

“But we could have had more luck,” Courtney replied.

“Again, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Alana protested.

Courtney smirked. “Oh come on, Alana. Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to finally get lucky with Chris?”

She bit her lip, her throat dry. She had been lucky with Chris. They were each other’s firsts over two years ago. Her relationship with Chris had grown comfortable and safe, in the innocent way a relationship with your high school sweetheart slowly grew and blossomed. There wasn’t any heated passion or desperate desire with him. She had expressed to her friends that she hoped things would spice up as they grew older and more comfortable with their bodies. Alana tried to be patient with him and patient with herself, but with each passing year, she wondered if the reason they hadn’t moved forward into something more passionate was due to a bigger problem.

Sure, she would have loved it if the wine would get her to that point with her boyfriend. But she knew she couldn’t force the magic to work a certain way. Magic from the earth was wild and untamable. Trying to tame it or manipulate it seemed like it went against everything nature had taught her.

She shook her head. “Courtney, come on. I told you it won’t work. Please,” she pleaded. “I trust you.”

Courtney hesitated, then sighed. “Okay, fine. But let’s drink this wine first.”

Over the next several months, as summer faded into fall, Courtney became even more demanding. She wanted to consume Marien wine every day. She made sure Alana never showed up empty-handed, and if she did, she grew hostile and angry. Her behavior around alcohol turned reckless. There was more than one occasion when Tess and Alana had to carry a passed-out Courtney to one of their cars and drive her home.

“Do we say something?” Tess whispered, looking back from the passenger seat to where Courtney snored softly in the back. “I’m worried for her.”

“I don’t know,” Alana replied. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

Tess squeezed her shoulder. “Hey, don’t do that. The decisions she’s been making have nothing to do with you.”

Alana twisted her lips, feeling unsure. If that were the case, then why did Courtney’s behavior only get worse after she’d told them the truth?

Later that night, they settled Courtney on her side on the couch at the Marien house. Tess went home to sleep in her own bed, but Alana slept on the floor to keep an eye on her friend.

The next morning, Courtney was gone.

She woke up to a soft socked foot digging into her ribs.

“Darling, wake up,” Otto said. The living room was cold, the November chill settling in. But the sound of her father’s voice was even colder.

She rubbed her eyes, glancing at the empty couch, then her father. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He pointed to the kitchen. “Your coffee is already poured. We need to talk.”

Alana shuffled behind her father into the kitchen, settling into her seat. Mom was also at the table, hands cupped around the mug. She looked perturbed.

She tucked her knees close to her chest, leaving her coffee untouched. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Otto sighed, dropping down into his seat. “Did you take four cases of Marien wine last night?”