Cherie Colyer - Hold Tight

“You’re an unusual human.” When I gave her a puzzled look, she added, “I’ve been asked to make a dancer lighter on her toes and help a musician play a song that steals the hearts of his audience, but I’ve never been asked to fold the laundry and put a plate in that contraption thingy. What do you call it?”

“A dishwasher?”

“Yes.”

“So…you grant wishes? Like a genie?”

“No. I enhance one’s talent in exchange for their company. Yours is the first house I’ve cleaned.”

“Oh.” I supposed it made sense that a creature as beautiful and graceful as Brea would help humans reach their potential. “I don’t play an instrument, and I only dance at school events.” I plopped down on my bed. “My dad’s been working double shifts. He owns his own business, and it’s been crazy for him. In the past, I was home, so I’d make sure the house was clean and the laundry was done, but this year my teachers are laying on the homework and I have a new boyfriend. I don’t have time for housework too.”

Brea sniffed a burnt-orange candle, immediately crinkling her button nose. “Ew. I’ve never liked the smell of pumpkin spice.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she set the candle down.

“Will you tell me about your home?” I asked.

“Sanctus?” The corners of her mouth rose to a dazzling smile. “It’s more beautiful than your botanical gardens—I visited one many years ago. And our sky is a canvas of blues and purples, and the meadows are a carpet of deep green.”

I lay down, chin cradled in my hands. “Go on.”

She spritzed the air with body spray, filling the room with the sweet fragrance of mango and mandarin. “It’s the Summer Court’s job to wake the trees and flowers in spring,” she said. “At dawn, morning dew kisses our cheeks, and in the evening when our work is done, we sip bacca vinus , a type of wine, while the jesters play a ballad on their flutes and lutes.” She slid off the dresser. With her arms stretched out from her sides, she twirled effortlessly around the room, finally coming to a stop in a low curtsy. “We eat and dance until the wee hours of the night.”

She grabbed my hands and pulled me off the bed. We spun in a circle until I was giddy and breathless.

“You do this every night?” I asked, panting.

She nodded. “Until it’s time for summer to give way to autumn and for my brother to watch over things. He has it much easier than I, seeing as nature hibernates when he’s in charge.”

Her gaze flittered toward the door to my room, then back to me. “Thank you for the sweater,” she said, zipping it up to her chin.

“You’re welcome.” I stifled a yawn and hugged my pillow. “Thank you for your help today.” My eyelids grew heavy, the busy day evidently catching up to me. I was barely awake when Brea got up. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“One should never say such things to a faerie.”

Or maybe she’d only said that in my dreams.

Friday morning, Brea was nowhere to be found, but the upstairs was as spotless as downstairs. I hoped I’d see her again so that I could thank her.

I had just finished drying my hair when my cell phone rang. A quick check of caller ID told me it was my best friend, Kaylee Bishop.

“Hi.”

“Hey, get your butt in gear. I’m picking you up in five, and we’re grabbing breakfast before school.”

“Where are the guys?” I asked. Not that I minded Kaylee giving me a ride, but this was the first time in weeks she’d driven the MINI to school. Somehow since her accident—the work of Emma’s dark powers—we had gotten into the routine of Isaac driving me to school and Josh driving Kaylee.

“Josh’s mom is having car trouble, and Isaac’s helping ’em.” The sound of running water flooded from the speaker along with Kaylee’s muffled words. From the swishing sound that came next, I guessed she was brushing her teeth while she talked to me.

I put my cell phone on speaker and pulled a pair of jeans out of my closet. “I’m not complaining about having some girl time, but what happened to Mr. Corey? And why hasn’t someone zapped the engine with their powers to make it run?”

The sound of water on her end went off and was replaced by the jingle of keys. “His dad had to leave early for work, and I guess they have to know what’s broke in order to know what to zap. Three minutes. Be outside.”

Kaylee and I grabbed lattes and muffins from the coffee house and headed to school. Pulling into the parking lot, we drove behind a line of cars at a painfully slow crawl to where the guys normally parked. Neither Josh’s Mustang nor Isaac’s Jeep was there, though, so we parked in one of the spaces.

“Ben’s parents are leaving for Martha’s Vineyard around four tomorrow. Party starts at six.” Kaylee reached behind her to retrieve her bag from the backseat. “I figured we’d show up fashionably late.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Once we walked closer to school, we saw the cause of the traffic jam: someone had parked their shiny black Subaru where parents dropped off their teens. I stumbled when I noticed the creepy dude from the grocery store leaning against the side of the building. A thin line of smoke curled upward from his right hand, which he held at his side.

Kaylee followed my shocked gaze. “Do you know him?”

“Not really. I bumped into him at the store the other day, and, I don’t know, he kept looking at me strange.”

“Strange as in—” she pursed her lips and crossed her eyes “—or strange as in ‘I want to ask this hot girl out but don’t know how,’ because you’ve never been able to tell the two apart.”

“I was with Isaac, so it wasn’t the latter.” I shook my head. “Gawd.”

“Hey, I’m just saying you usually need a two-ton anvil to fall on your head to know for sure.”

“Shut up!” I bumped her with my shoulder.

“Don’t worry, that’s why you have me.”

We had to pass him to get to the doors. I gritted my teeth and picked up the pace, planning to pretend I didn’t see him.

“If it isn’t Milk Girl,” he said with a smirk once Kaylee and I were within hearing range. We stopped a few feet from him. “I wondered if I’d get the chance to apologize for being such a weirdo the other day. I wasn’t quite myself.”

“You weren’t weird,” I replied to be nice, because he had been totally American Psycho .

An awkward silence followed. Kaylee and I exchanged a Now what? glance. He took a drag on his cigarette.

“Aren’t you worried about getting busted for smoking on school property?” Kaylee asked.

He took another puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from us when he exhaled. “I don’t go to this school.”

“Then why are you here?” I hiked my backpack higher on my shoulder while trying not to spill my latte.

Kaylee cocked her head to the side, obviously as curious to know the answer to that question as I was.

“I’m waiting for someone. You?”

“Ah, we go here,” Kaylee said.

Before I could ask who he was waiting for, the first bell rang, warning us we had four minutes to make it to class.

Kaylee grabbed my wrist. “Come on! Chapin will kill us if we’re late.”

“We gotta go,” I told Creepy Dude as Kaylee pulled me into the flow of students rushing to class.

“By the way,” Kaylee said, “I didn’t pick up any longing vibes coming from him, so you might have been right this time.”