“Jenna uses sage in Trevor’s room, like, every week. It smells sooo good.”
I joke, “Anything would smell better than Trevor.”
Liv takes the bundle from me and draws in a long inhale. “Hmm. I should use that in Braden’s room. Isn’t it supposed to fix bad vibes or something like that?”
“I think it depends on which herbs you use.” I’m no expert on plant correspondences, but I’m learning. “Sage and lavender both cleanse, but lavender’s also supposed to be relaxing.”
Liv grins. “What about an aphrodisiac?”
“Bradenneeds an aphrodisiac?” When does that man ever not want sex?
Liv slumps into her desk chair. “Frequency’s not a problem, but he could use a little help in the variety department.”
I suppose Braden’s so used to switching women when the sex gets rote, that he’s never had to advance past entry-level. And poor Liv is so desperate to hold on to him, she’s afraid to rock the boat by complaining.
“I don’t think herbs are the answer then,” I tease. “Try the Kama Sutra.”
She stares into space for a moment, seriously considering it. Then she hands the lavender bundle back to me. “Since when are you an herbalist?”
“Herbalist?”
“Yeah. There was that bag of herbs on my desk the other day. And a candle.”
Leo’s candle. I was hoping Liv hadn’t really noticed it, or that she’d forgotten about it.
“And you’re always wearing that amethyst,” she says, gesturing to her own chest while looking at mine. “So what’s with all this New Age stuff?”
I recall my resolve to stop sneaking and lying to Liv. If we’re going to stay best friends, then it has to be on honest terms. I breathe deeply for composure and fortitude. Here goes nothing. “It’s not really New Age, it’s more—well—” I don’t want to use the wordwitchcraft, orritualeither; they’ll freak Liv out. I rewind and try again, opting to start small. “That candle was from a meditation we did at Avery’s.”
“Meditation?” Liv is looking at me like I’m a bad shrimp she just ate. “Like some sort of yoga thing? Who does that on a Friday night?”
“We weren’t doing yoga,” I say. “It wasn’t that kind of meditation. We were trying to see if we could talk to our ancestors.” There, I said it.
And judging from Liv’s expression, there’s going to be hell to pay.
“Your ancestors? What the actual fuck, Betts?”
My heart sinks and I bumble, “It didn’t really work for me. I mean, I wanted to talk to my grandmother, but?—”
Liv cuts me off with a look of horror. “Are you in some kind of cult?”
“What? No!”
“Is that really the kind of shit you and your new friends do?”
I wish she didn’t look so appalled. What she’s envisioning can’t be anywhere close to the truth, but how do I get her to understand? “Listen. Avery’s a witch and she’s been teaching us stuff. Like Tarot. And protection magick.”
“A witch?” Liv’s nose wrinkles. “Oh, I get it now. You’re gonna go all goth on me like those Witchtok girls.”
“No, it’s not like that.” I’m already in up to my knees so I may as well go all the way under. I remind her of how I reacted to the overdoseat O-Chi last fall and explain how I felt her fight with her parents all the way down our dormitory hallway. But I don’t use the wordpsychicand I don’t tell her about the incident at the sawmill town. “Learning stuff like protection magick and meditation are really helping me. I’m finally figuring out how to control all this empathy and do something with it.”
Throughout my speech, Liv’s skeptical frown deepens. “But how often does that kind of thing actually happen to you?”
“All the time.”
“Okay, so whatever,” she huffs, taking books out of her backpack. “But why do you need to change your whole life just because you’re sensitive?” She won’t even sayempathic.
“I’m not changing my whole life,” I say.Only certain parts of it. “I’m just trying to make it more compatible with who I really am.”
