Page 39 of The White Enchantress

Mixed melodies with the words “hello,” “hi,” and “wotcher” caught my ears as they welcomed me. I tried to pay close attention to everyone’s names. James, Mia, Gracie, Harry and Logan. Mia stepped out from the group, wrapping her arms around Josh. On tiptoes, she brushed a light kiss on Josh’s lips and smiled back at me. “I’m Josh’s girlfriend.” She said this with an air of claiming territory.

I smiled back politely, trying not to laugh at her obvious jealousy of me. She was smoking hot. Why was she jealous of me? ThoughJosh and I had been texting nonstop for days, it was strictly platonic. There was nothing but friendship between us. “Nice to meet you, nice to meet you all,” I said as the bell rang for homeroom.

Josh’s group of friends quickly accepted me as one of theirs, except Mia. She watched me with an all-seeing eye like I was up to no good. It didn’t help that both of us were auditioning for the part of Fiona.

To make things worse, Josh auditioned for a role in Brigadoon as well. I knew he could play the guitar like Orpheus, so of course his voice was just as majestic. When the cast list got posted, Josh and I ran to look at it together. Mia pushed through between us, then a moment later, stormed out in a huff. Josh got the part of Tommy, I got Fiona, and Mia was part of the ensemble.

“She’ll get over it,” Josh said to me.

Get over it, huh?

We had the holiday break to decompress from all the drama of drama. So I tried to keep my distance from Josh, not wanting to cause any unnecessary chinks in his unstable relationship. But Josh kept inviting me over to his house.

The gang would be around most of the time, bringing various instruments to jam together. Since I knew how to play piano, Josh let me play his keyboard. But I had wanted to learn guitar for forever. So Josh and I started hanging out on our own for guitar lessons.

Nothing happened between us, just guitar lessons and running lines. I was actually freaking out about our eventual kiss on stage. Ididn’t want things to get weird between us. With Mia in a constant fit of rage that I took away her lead role plus the hidden bitterness she feels toward me for stealing her boyfriend, the group of friends I was beginning to get close with was slowly fraying at the edges.

A month into the new term, I told Josh over a text that we should stop hanging out. And I gave him and Mia space at school, avoiding their usual hangout spots. The idea of losing Josh forever if Mia made him choose between his friendship with me and his relationship with her was shattering my insides.

I made it a whole week only seeing Josh and Mia at class and rehearsals and ignored Josh’s text to hang out over the weekend. The next time I saw him was at rehearsal on Monday. The kissing scene. Since we’d already blocked the scene, we would now act out the whole thing, kiss included. I was terrified. Not of the kiss, but what Mia would do after I kissed her boyfriend. She was not a very rational-thinking person. I knew she was going to blow up.

And I was right. As Josh’s lips met mine, I heard a bang from the audience seats. Mia knocked over a stand and marched out in a loud, dramatic huff. Josh didn’t let Mia’s performance distract him though. He went on with his lines waiting for me to gather myself and respond.

After rehearsal, Josh pulled me aside. “I broke up with Mia. She was being unreasonable and her jealousy was suffocating. She would get jealous before you, even with Gracie. Mia just doesn’t like it when I talk to any other girl that isn’t her. And I don’t know why she targeted you so strongly. Maybe because you are incrediblybeautiful and have the most unique shade of red hair she’s ever seen. Mia actually told me that once. Even if her jealousy stems from the fact that she doesn’t have red hair, I couldn’t stand being with her anymore. So please don’t think it’s your fault or any other bullshit. Please say we are friends.”

“I’m sorry if I made things–”

“I said no bullshit, Guin.”

I smiled up at him and nodded. “Friends then.”

As the song reaches the last chorus and my memories fade to black, sadness, happiness, loneliness, and guilt fill my heart all at once. How could I dismiss Josh in a couple of months and fall in love with someone else? Do I even know what being in love feels like? I loved Josh, loved him, everything about him. The passion he brought out in me was surprising. I felt like a goddess when he was inside me. He worshiped my body, he loved me, everything about me. That was real.

Lancelot is real too. I don’t know everything about him though. So how could I love him? How am I consumed by him? Why do I forget to breathe in his presence? My mind is running a marathon trying to make sense of it all while my heart beats at an unhealthy pace.

Tears are now running freely from my eyes at the torment ripping me apart on the inside. A person can love more than once in their life. For my parents, this wasn’t so, but I know what I feel for both Josh and Lancelot is love. The kind of love that makes you ache and yearn at the same time.

For weeks, I had doubted whether I truly love Lancelot or if what I feel is just a barbaric need to fuck. But I love him. And I know my love for him isn’t manufactured because centuries’ worth of literature and screenplays tell me I am supposed to.

“Guinevere, has someone done this to you?”

I look up, startled by the sudden appearance of Lancelot and scramble to remove the buds from my ears discretely. “Done what?”

“You are crying. Has someone here at the castle done you wrong? Say something to upset you? Was it Melwas?”

I hesitate to answer, not wanting to talk about why I am crying, but he insists. “No. I’m just feeling sad.”

Seeing my discomfort, he reaches out for my hands, pulling me to my feet. After wiping the tears from my cheeks with his rough but tender hands, he gently tucks my arm in the crook of his elbow. He then walks me out from under the tree and into the garden. We walk silently in the warm morning air.

“I will not think any less of you if you tell me. I can see by the look on your face that you are holding too much inside. You can trust me…Guinevere.” He hesitates to say my name, wanting to maintain formality. But he knows I prefer to be called by my name.

“There are so many things I want to tell you Lance, I don’t know how or if I should. Or if you would even believe me.”

He looks away with a brief nod, understanding my need to keep things to myself. But he is still curious about me. “What were those things you pulled from your ears?”

I freeze, terrified, unsure how to explain technology from the twenty-first century. “I don’t know how to explain that.”

“Are you a witch?”

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