They were silent as the light changed and they weren't the only ones waiting at the crosswalk.
He rubbed his neck. "My car's over there."
She followed his gaze across the street to a dark green vehicle. "Oh, no." She waved her hand. She couldn't be expected to go anywhere with a stranger.
He raised his eyebrows. "At least let me call you a ride."
She tried to move her arm again, to show she was fine, but pain shot through it. She cringed. Her great-grandmother could fix broken bones in two blinks of her eyes, a charm she hadn't yet mastered. Mariam had warned her she couldn't let this one get away.
She needed to stick to him like a wart on a cheek, and this wasn't the time to refuse medical attention either.
She nodded. "Okay, call me a ride."
"Do you want to call someone, let them know where you're going?"
For someone his age, he sure is responsible. Then again, I did have to save his life.
"I'll call my mom." She took out her phone. It had scratches on its case, a new one too, from when it had fallen. "Drat," she murmured.
"I'm Beaumont by the way, but my friends call me Beau," he said, as she dialed her home number from memory, figuring if she couldn't reach her mom, another family member would answer. "What's your name?" Beau asked.
"Cora," she said. "Cora Emerson." Then, into the phone, "Willow, is Mom home? Can you put her on please?"
"Who is this?" Willow asked. "And how did you get this number?"
Cora glowered, so not in the mood for her sister's antics. "I'm serious. I really need to talk to Mom. It's an emergency."
"What kind of emergency, like a zombie apocalypse?"
"Yes, now put Mom on."
"Have you been bitten? Because if you have, I think its best you excommunicate from this family."
"Willow!"
"Oh, all right, Cora. There's no need to scream in my ear."
"Then put Mom on," Cora said through gritted teeth.
"Hang on a second."
The tension in Cora's shoulders loosened. Knowing how Willow could be, she realized her error of not calling her mom's cell instead.
"Cora, I hope you're on your way home," said Stella Emerson.
"I think she's been bitten by a zombie."
Cora ignored Willow's japes in the background. "Hey, Mom," she said, "it's not that big of a deal but I've had an accident and I need to go to the hospital. Someone offered to get me a ride." She then had to explain who he was, how she'd hurt her arm, and where they were.
"I don't like the idea of you going off with a stranger. What did he say his name was?" asked Stella.
"He said his name's Beau."
Beau glanced at Cora when she mentioned him. She smiled and shook her head. But her mom still sounded apprehensive, so she had to grovel. "It's true, Mom. I think it's a sprain but I'm not sure. It hurts a lot." She wanted to add that she'd found the one but didn't know how to without it sounding absurd.
"I'll meet you at St. Catherine's," Stella said at last. "And be careful."
Minutes later, Cora sat in the backseat of a car next to the boy who had no idea the misery she had in store for him.
"Thanks for that back there," he said. I'm not usually so careless." He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. "You saved my life. I guess I owe you now."
She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. Saving his life was the complete opposite of what she was meant to do. "You got me a ride so you're off the hook," she said, well aware that whatever was between her and Beau was only just beginning.
She couldn't believe her luck and her unwillingness to accept it.
Leaning closer to the window, she watched buildings go by as the cab moved easily along the smooth, even roads. People often forgot about Thorne Point. Nestled between two of Elorie's better-known cities, Lochlan and Oleander Garden, it wasn't the largest city, but it had a certain charm. From its traditional row houses to its family homes like where she lived, Thorne Point could have been any other city in Elorie.
Most didn't know it was one of few cities that was home to all kinds of creatures, from sorcerers to vampires and ghouls alike. Cora could've sworn she'd met a ghost once. Though the humans had no clue they might've been living next-door to their worst nightmares, the Emersons had adapted well, despite that centuries ago they were tossed into the sea to let drown.
What the humans did believe was that compared to the rest of Elorie, it was much tidier, so clean it had been dubbed, "Elorie's slice of paradise." She wasn't sure about that. The glow of streetlamps illuminated this point, casting light on every speck of trash. But it was quiet most of the time, especially on Hemlock Avenue where she lived in a comfortable house with her family, their neighbors old and retired. Even those with claws and fangs.
Beau didn't say much as they were driven to the hospital, at least not until they were right out front of it. "Thank you, sir." He handed cash to the driver who returned his change. "You want to go in now or do you want to wait for your mom, Cora?" He shoved his wallet into his coat pocket. "I don't mind waiting with you until she arrives."
"Wait costs extra,' said the driver and kept the engine running.
She didn't see the point in waiting. The sooner she saw the doctor, the faster she could get back to important matters, like ruining Beau's life. She swallowed down another lump of guilt, refusing to give into it.
"No, let's go in." She shoved at the door. It didn't budge under her weight.
Beau had to lean over to get it for her. The scent of his cologne hit her square in the nose, heightening her anxiety. From up close, she could make out every odd shape of his frecklesâone almost like a heart above his eyebrow. How in the world could she ruin him?
"There you go," he said.
Once they were in the hospital, which smelled of carbolic soap, she filled out the form and they waited to hear her name next to a mom and a kid who had a suspicious wheezing-cough. Most Thorne Pointers wouldn't have bothered going through all the trouble of taking a stranger to the hospital. Maybe he was one of those types of people who couldn't help being chivalrous. In any other situation, she would have found it endearing.
For the love of crows.
It would have been easier to ruin Beau's life if he wasn't so kind, and why did he have to be so darn cute too? She wanted to take back the thanks she'd sent up to the all-powerful father. It was possible someone up there was trying to ruin her life by making it ten times harder than it needed to be. He'd sat next to her, and she found she couldn't concentrate on the evening news and her stomach growled. She hadn't had anything solid since the fish sticks they'd served at school. She glanced at Beau, wondering if he'd heard but he only scratched the bridge of his nose. His fingers were long and slender.
Does he play an instrument?
There wasn't any dirt beneath his nails either.
He obviously puts time into his appearance. How long will it take to ruin him?
He would make an adorable mouse.
The kindest ones were always the best targets. That was the first lesson her mom taught her. She didn't agree. There was so much crime in the world. Why couldn't they focus on bad people instead? Wouldn't it be easier to ruin the life of someone who did wrong? She sank lower in her seat. She would never get this right. She could already see all the ways she'd screw this up. Turn him into a mouse and he might be eaten by a large bird, a cockroach and he might be stepped on. She hated the thought of either happening. Someone out there would miss him. Worse yet, what would she do with a pet mouse?
"Are you okay? How's your arm feeling?" Beau asked. A buzzing sound came from his coat pocket. He pulled out his cell phone. "Hold on. I have to get this." He frowned at the screen as he got up and stepped outside for privacy.
She sank into her seat once more. She wished to be normal. When she was ten, fed up with her lessons, she'd tried to run away. She'd packed a suitcase, wrote her family a letter, and made it all the way to the bus stop before her mom came running after her.
She wanted to run away now. If she did, she wouldn't have to worry about any of this. She did have some money put away for her and Eva's trip to New York City this summer once they graduated.
"Cora Emerson?" A bald man with a clipboard said.
"Coming." Her tone was the same one she reserved for her mother when she'd interrupted her ever so overzealous thoughts.
In the time it took the doctor to examine Cora's arm, right before she had her x-ray done, her mother showed up. Stella Emerson was a short, well-dressed, pretty woman, who didn't take nonsense from anyone and did a lot of finger wagging when angered, among other things. When Stella became angry, the Emersons knew to duck for cover or at least cover their ears. Everyone said Cora and Willow took after her.
Other than her deep, brown skin, stubby nose, and kinky tresses, she disagreed. Of course, they would say she took after Stella. Except for an old photo, no one had seen or heard from her father in years.
"She's all right." The doctor gave Stella a tight, closed lipped smile. "I think she has a sprain, but the x-ray will tell us for sure."
"Thank the all-powerful father." Stella smoothed Cora's hair. Her "thank the all-powerful" was only for the doctor. A minor sprain, even a broken bone or two, would never faze a sorceress. She kissed Cora's forehead. She smelled like warm and rich cocoa butter, which took a little of the ache from Cora's belly. Maybe her mother would have some good advice, but it would have to wait until they'd left the hospital, out of anyone's earshot.
In the meantime, she had her x-ray done. It was a sprain after all. The doctor gave her an arm sling and a prescription for pain medication, which would go unused.
"Be easy on it for a few days," he said.
A flush crept to her cheeks when she left the doctor's office and saw that Beau hadn't left. She looked from him to her mother, to him again, quite bewildered. He was fast asleep, his cheek propped on his fist. She could leave him there. The thought of making him miserable did bring an ache to her belly. She could kick herself for being such a softy.
It's time for me to grow a pair.
The time for magic had begun and she couldn't let this one get away. As her mother tugged on her gloves, she shook him awake. He startled out of sleep as if he'd already forgotten where he was. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder where her mother stood. "We're leaving." She thought to ask for his number, but with her mother near ghosts swirled through her belly, making a mess of her nerves.
He held up a hand to Stella. "It isn't so bad then?" He drummed his fingers on his thigh, a gesture that made Cora think he had nervous ghosts too.
She lifted her sprained arm as much as she could. "Just a sprain."
"That's good."
"Yeah, it is." Cora pushed her tongue against her teeth, thinking of what to say but she didn't know how to say, "I'm a sorceress and you're my victim," in a pleasing, not so scary way.
Stella squeezed her shoulder. "We should get going. I don't want your sister ruining our kitchen." She held out her gloved hand. "It was nice meeting you..."
"Beaumont." Beau shook Stella's hand once.
Before her mother could steer her away, he called out, "Wait."
Cora whirled, a bit baffled. He brought out his phone. "In the spirit of making new friends, can I ask for your number?" His smile made her even more unsure of what she should do. He was her gull, so easily handed to her. The heavens had aligned in her favor.
"Yeah. Sure," she said and proceeded to give him her number, waiting patiently as he plugged it into his phone.
"Done." The phone disappeared into his coat pocket once more. "I'll see you around, Cora."
She shook away her surprise. "You... you will?"
"Who knows. It's a small world."
Neither of them could say anything else to each other after that because Stella, rather rudely, took her by the elbow, leading her through the emergency room and out the hospital. When they were several paces away, she stopped. "If you're going to hurt them, it's best not to fall in love with them first."
Stunned, Cora's mouth fell open. Her mother closed it. "Some motherly advice." She ushered her to their car. "He is cute." This led to a lecture about how she needed to be more responsible. "I don't need to remind you of who you are," her mother said, although she meant to say what. "You have certain responsibilities, and I know that isn't always fair, but you are an Emerson and we do not cower."
Cora said nothing, pretending to listen, as her mother went on and on about what it took to be wicked. A lecture from Stella couldn't fix the fact she possessed only half the wicked gene.
Curse this heart of mine.