Authors: Nikki Jefford
Raj was deciding between a frozen pita pocket, canned spaghetti, or starvation when there was a knock at the door. Both he and his father stared at one another.
“Go on and answer it,” his dad said.
No one, besides religious crusaders and solicitors, ever knocked on their door, but when Raj opened up he was dumbfounded to find Gray’s mother, Mrs. Perez, standing outside.
“Good evening, Raj,” Mrs. Perez said. After greeting him she stared into the house. The moment Raj had seen it wasn’t a solicitor he’d opened the door wide open and now wished he’d kept it cracked.
His father’s footsteps filled the narrow hallway as he advanced toward the open door. The smell of smoke moved with him. Raj was used to it, but with the fresh air hitting his face it suddenly felt overpowering in his nose.
Mrs. Perez shifted her gaze to his dad. “Hello, Richard,” she said in an easy voice.
“Marney.” He nodded. “How have you been?”
“Taking one day at a time.”
Raj was grateful that his father was in the security uniform and not his usual white stained cotton T-shirt and worn jeans. Still, he shifted and longed to block himself, his home, and his father from Mrs. Perez’s sight.
“I’m actually here to see Raj,” Mrs. Perez said.
“Oh? And what do you need from Raj?” His dad took a step closer. Raj inched away.
“I need his help with a rather bothersome migraine I can’t seem to shake. I’m afraid it’s beyond my abilities and I remember Raj had something of a talent for the healing arts.”
It was silent a moment and then from the corner of his eye Raj saw his father’s shoulders sag and his face lift into half a grin. “Lord knows he didn’t get it from me. Please, come in.”
“No!” Raj said. “I find the best warm-up to a migraine disposal spell is breathing in fresh air. Let’s take a walk around the block.”
Raj’s dad frowned. “At this time of night? In this neighborhood?” He glanced at Mrs. Perez.
His dad clearly wasn’t using his head. If anyone had the bad idea to attack a witch and a warlock they were in for it.
“We’ll be fine,” Mrs. Perez said before Raj could speak. “But thank you for your concern. Raj?”
Raj came out of his fog. “Right, be back momentarily.” He stepped out of the house into the company of Graylee’s mother.
Their nearest neighbor had toys littering their yard and not the bright, cheery kind. A wheel was missing from a rusty tricycle turned over on its side. Dolls missing various body parts stuck out of the muddy patches dotting the overgrown yard like quicksand. The next yard wasn’t much better, with paint peeling from old lawn furniture and chipped potted plants that had toppled over. It looked more like an abandoned neighborhood in Chernobyl.
Raj walked briskly past. Mrs. Perez matched his pace down the street, not that the scenery improved further down. Even if he hadn’t read her aura already, Raj would have known the woman didn’t have a migraine. It wasn’t as though she’d come to his part of town if she did. Mrs. Perez had to have access to her own treasure trove of potions.
So what was this? Come to warn him away from her daughter? Of course Gray’s mom would see Raj as riff-raff not even fit for friendship with a member of her picture-perfect family. Okay, to be fair the Perez family had problems, too. Nothing like what Raj had to deal with, though. At least Mrs. Perez cared about her girls. Hell, she’d gone to who knows what lengths to bring one back from the dead. Would Raj’s own mother even visit his grave if he died?
“Gray told me she confided in you.”
Raj waited for the shoe to drop even though he hadn’t picked up on any hostile energy radiating off Mrs. Perez. For all he knew she had placed herself under a masking spell. It wasn’t as though Mrs. Perez would drive over in the dark to wish Raj good luck in his pursuit of her daughter.
“I appreciate the support you’ve shown her during this difficult time.”
“How’d you do it?” Raj didn’t mean to be so abrupt, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“I contacted the right entity.”
“I can’t imagine that came cheap.”
The headlights from an approaching car lit Mrs. Perez’s face momentarily. Raj saw peace in her expression. There wasn’t an ounce of shame or guilt in those eyes. And he couldn’t blame her.
The vehicle slowed as it approached them. Raj’s jaw tightened then slowly relaxed after it passed.
“I gave up all my powers to get her back.”
Raj instantly knew he hadn’t misheard Mrs. Perez. What struck him wasn’t what she’d confessed, but, like her expression a moment earlier, the complete lack of regret in her voice.
Raj stared sideways at her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I can’t protect her, but you can.”
“Why would you think that?”
Mrs. Perez smiled. “Because you like her.”
Raj shrugged.
Mrs. Perez’s grin widened as though she could see right through him even though she was now as powerless as any non-gifted person. “I want to ask a favor of you, Raj. I want you to look out for Gray—protect her. As soon as I get word from my contact I must go. I might not get the opportunity to tell Gray. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Mrs. Perez stopped suddenly and looked at him as though possessed. “I might not be around to watch out for her.”
“I understand,” Raj said. He turned away, afraid Mrs. Perez would once more use her powers as a loving mother to see he not only understood, he cared more than he wanted to admit. His feelings were a personal matter, not something to be discussed with Gray’s mother. Still, he wanted to reassure her. She’d gone to the trouble to come to him for help. Crazier still, she trusted him.
Raj led Mrs. Perez around the block and walked her to her car. Without her powers she suddenly seemed more vulnerable.
As Mrs. Perez fished inside her purse for her key, Raj lifted the locks on her car. She shot him a look that made him feel at once abashed. “Sorry, habit,” he mumbled.
As she reached for the handle, Raj called out, “Mrs. Perez.”
She waited.
“I’ll do everything I can for Gray.”
Gray got up at seven on Saturday. When you knew you wouldn’t be around the next day, it was highly motivating to get a crack on the day you did have.
As soon as Gray’s feet touched the floor, she snapped her fingers for her worn jeans and favorite T-shirt, but nothing happened. She looked down. Still wearing the negligee. Okay. Gray snapped again for a pair of ripped jeans with fun fabric patches sewn in, but again she stood in the slip.
“Now what the heck?” she said, storming to her room.
Gray threw open her closet door and gasped. Empty.
She ran to her dresser and began opening drawers. Empty. Empty. Empty!
Gray raced back into Charlene’s room and practically tore the cover off their communication notebook when she ripped it open.
Charlene had left her a simple message:
Maybe it’s time you remembered you’re supposed to be me and that means dressing and acting appropriately.
Gray chucked the notebook across the room. It smacked the wall and dropped to the ground. “You are so dead, Charlene!” Gray didn’t realize she was shrieking.
Footsteps came racing down the hall. “What’s going on?” Mom’s eyes widened when she saw Gray yanking clothes out of Charlene’s closet. She held up Charlene’s favorite pink cashmere sweater and began ripping it down the middle. Halfway down it would no longer tear and Gray screamed in frustration.
“Gray!” her mother shouted. “What are you doing?”
Gray threw the sweater down and sunk to the floor. She put her head into her knees and sobbed. “She took all my clothes. They’re all gone.”
“What?”
“My closet, my dresser—Charlene emptied everything.”
Mom straightened up. “Well, then she can replace it all.”
Gray sniffed.
“Come on.”
“What?”
“Get up. We’re going to breakfast.”
“I can’t go to breakfast. Raj is coming over this morning.”
Mom didn’t even blink. “Then I think you better get dressed.”
“In what?” Gray cried out. “It’s bad enough wearing Barbie prep wear to school. Now I have to spend my Saturday in the Clueless skirt. I refuse!”
Mom was trying not to smile.
“What?”
“As much as you hate the skirts, I think it’d be more appropriate than the teddy.”
Gray looked down and then back up at her mom. Maybe she was going crazy, because in the next instant she burst into hysterics. She fell back on the floor holding her stomach. Mom laughed above her. And just as suddenly Gray was crying again.
“Come on,” Mom said. “Up with you.” She extended a hand and pulled Gray to her feet. “We can go shopping later.”
“Shopping,” Gray said suddenly. “Good idea.”
More like good excuse to get out of town with Nolan for several hours
. “Nolan and I were planning on hanging out at the mall today, anyway.”
“Since when do you hang out at the mall?” Her mom looked her over.
Gray’s anger momentarily subsided to be replaced by guilt and bashfulness. The bashfulness due to the slip better suited to a Frederick’s of Hollywood catalogue model. A skirt wasn’t sounding so bad anymore. Gray glanced at the garments dumped on the floor and snapped into the ruffled tweed skirt. It was the closest to her sense of style. Did Charlene own leggings? Gray’d have to be able to picture them to get them to snap on. She couldn’t just go making stuff up.
The appearance of Gray in clothes only distracted her mom for a moment. “That’s better. So today you’re spending time with Raj and then Nolan?”
“Yeah.”
Mom tilted her head to one side and looked at Gray sideways. “Honey, I think you’re going to have to make up your mind and choose one of these guys.”
Gray’s hands dropped to either side. “What? It’s not like I’m going out with either of them.”
“Yes, but that’s what they’re hoping for and isn’t that what you want: to go out with one of them?”
Gray studied the carpet. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I think they’re both nice boys. You should go with your gut.”
Gray squashed her face together. “Don’t you mean with my heart?”
“No,” her mom said, smiling wistfully. “Go with the gut.”
That made sense in a way. Gut instincts were supposed to be the most trustworthy and it was in her gut where she felt the butterflies. The heart had its purpose as a blood-pumping muscle, but love… love blossomed and sparked through the body—originating from the gut.
How romantic.
I love you with all my gut
. Gray stifled a giggle.
“When’s Raj coming over?”
Gray glanced at Charlene’s alarm clock. “I told him to come at eight.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Well, Nolan’s coming around ten.”
Mom clucked. “Cutting it close, aren’t you?”
“It’s not like I want to be juggling two boys. I have enough problems, thank you very much. But Nolan already made these plans with me and Raj…” Gray lifted her shoulders. “I owe him.”
Mom headed to the door. “How about I get muffins and mochas from the Muffin Man? I’m sure Raj would appreciate a little pick-me-up this early on the weekend.”
Gray squished her cheeks and nose up. “He’ll be here any moment. You’re okay leaving me alone with a boy?”
“I trust Raj.”
“If you say so.”
Okay, weird. So obviously Charlene wasn’t a virgin any longer (and who knew how many guys she’d slept with) and Gray was the same age as her—exactly the same age, in fact—but sometimes she felt like a younger sister: innocent and inexperienced when it came to the world of boys.
Gray’s mom hadn’t been gone five minutes when Raj knocked. She was happy to let him inside—the house felt eerily quiet, like that first morning she woke up from death.
Raj wore a snug burgundy ribbed sweater over black jeans. Gray felt like a guy copping a peek at a chick’s chest. She looked away quickly and invited him inside.
Raj looked around. “Where’s your mother?”
Gray rolled her eyes. “She thought we might like muffins and mochas. She’ll be back soon.”
Raj’s eyes practically lit up upon hearing the words muffins and mochas.
“Come on,” Gray said. “We don’t have much time.” She started up the stairs, expecting he’d follow.
“Are you undercover today?”
Gray squinted at Raj. “What? Oh, right,” she said, following the direction of his eyes. “The skirt. Not really. Charlene destroyed all my clothes. It was this or a silk chemise.”
“She did what?”
The moment they entered her room, Gray began pulling open dresser drawers. She lifted her finger and the closet door sprang open, revealing empty hangers and a shoe rack without a single pair of shoes.
Raj looked around with a sort of stunned expression on his face—nothing compared to the way her own eyes had bugged out earlier when she tried to snap herself into a pair of jeans and T-shirt and nothing had happened.