Page 36 of Hex Appeal
“Guess the fun wore off.”
I clenched my jaw. Fun? Etan had been a magical parasite with great hair. That wasn’t fun.
Nate, for his part, seemed completely unaware of the whispers. He was back to wearing his old hoodie, sketchbook under one arm, smiling at me in that shy, real way that made my stomach do slow flips. When I reached for a book, his free hand found mine under the edge of the locker door, warm and certain, thumb brushing my knuckles in a way that made the hallway noise fade.
Bianca, however, had noticed the gossip, and she was loving it.
At lunch, she dropped into the seat across from us with the energy of someone who’d just come from a particularly juicy interrogation.
“Good news,” she announced. “I’ve been telling everyone that ‘Super Fun Nate’ was actually a role you were playing for a drama project, and now you’re back to your method-actor roots.”
Nate frowned. “What drama project?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bianca said, waving her hand like that explained everything. “Also, I may have implied you were researching a character for a one-man show about a misunderstood magician-slash-heartthrob.”
“What?” Nate asked again, slower this time.
I sighed. “Just go with it.”
He smirked at me, our knees bumping under the table. That little smile carried me through the rest of the day, through algebra, through gym, even though the part where my locker jammed and he leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath while we wrestled it open.
By the end of the day, the rumour mill had accepted Bianca’s version of events. The crisis was officially over, at least in the mortal gossip department.
Still, as Nate walked me to my locker, our fingers laced together, I caught sight of our reflections in the trophy case glass.
Just for a second, my own reflection’s eyes glinted silver. The hair at the back of my neck prickled, but Nate’s hand tightened around mine. For a beat, I almost believed it was nothing more than sunlight.
I told myself it was the hallway light hitting the glass. However, for the rest of the day, I kept catching our reflections out of the corner of my eye, not moving wrong, exactly, just… watching. The way you watch a bird at the edge of a cage, waiting for the door to open again.
I blinked, and it was gone.
Epilogue
A few days later, Nate caught up to me outside the cafeteria, hair windblown and cheeks flushed like he’d jogged across the quad.
“Hey,” he said, a little out of breath.
His eyes caught mine and held them there a second too long, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile. The late-afternoon sun hit just right, catching the flecks of gold in his eyes, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe.
He stepped a little closer, close enough that the air between us felt charged, like the moment before a summer storm breaks. I could smell soap and something warmer, and I had to fight the urge to lean in.
“So, the prom’s still on Friday,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’d...” He hesitated, then smiled that slightly crooked smile that had survived both the real world and the Mirror Realm. “I was wondering if you’d go with me. As my date… my girlfriend?”
It wasn’t an elaborate promposal. No flash mob, no glitter cannons. Just him, standing close enough that my pulse was in my ears, looking at me like I was the only answer that made sense.
I couldn’t help it. I grinned so wide my cheeks ached. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
His smile deepened, and his gaze flicked down to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes, like he was fighting some internal tug-of-war. The heat in my face was ridiculous.
He looked relieved, and maybe a little dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe I’d said yes. It was funny because I was thinking the exact same thing.
Somewhere in the chaos of magic and danger and too many close calls, I’d gotten exactly what I wanted: the guy who’d been worth fighting for. Maybe I’d learned something, too, about not letting the shiny, tricky things distract me from what was real.
Nate and I were on the boardwalk, the smell of frying dough curling through the warm air. We were sharing a paper basket of fries, brushing salt from our fingers, and wandering without any particular destination. The sun was bright enough to make the ocean sparkle, and every time a gull shrieked, Nate tilted his head like he was half-expecting it to dive-bomb him.
Bianca had texted earlier.
If you two come back smelling like fried dough without bringing me some, our friendship is OVER.
