“Sounds great.”
Morgan glides down the hall to the locker room. Once she’s out of sight, I lean against the wall and brush my fingers across my face. The healing cuts send a pulse of worry through my entire body. I trust my dad’s instincts, but what if Benton was right? What if that brick was meant for us? Maybe I shouldn’t be wandering around town, powerless from the ring on my finger.
Gem sidles up beside me, and I force my fear away. “Excited for your date?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows and shimmying her shoulders.
“Go away. Before she sees you and thinks you’re giving me a pep talk,” I whisper, and nudge Gem with my shoulder.
“Do you need a pep talk?” The teasing is gone from her voice. “How’s your face feeling?”
“Is it that bad?”
“No! It’s barely noticeable.” Gemma pauses, the lie hanging between us. “Are you nervous?”
I fidget and avoid Gemma’s gaze. “A little. I never had to do the whole ‘first date’ thing with Veronica. I knew she liked me before I even knew I liked girls. This is new.”
Gemma straightens. “You’ll be fine. Gotta run!”
“Wait, what?” I watch Gemma race for the front door, and when I turn back around, I see what caused her to bolt. “Hey, Morgan. That was an amazing rehearsal. You’re really talented. Like, incredible. I’ve never seen anyone dance like that, and I’ve even seenyoudance before, in those videos you sent.” Someone please shut me up.
“Thanks. Those videos were from last year, so I’m glad to hear I haven’t gotten worse.” Morgan smiles, her lips freshly glossed. Her hair is down now, soft curls flowing past her shoulders. “Should we get out of here?”
“Sure.” I follow Morgan to her mom’s silver SUV, where she stores her bag. “So, smoothies, huh?”
“I’m not really a coffee person. Makes me too jittery.” Morgan leads me down the street to the Squeeze Café. “Gemma said this place was one of your favorites,” she says as she holds the door for me.
I thank her and pass into the cool air conditioning, a welcome relief from the hot summer sun. Morgan follows me in, and we wait in line in silence. I order a strawberry smoothie; Morgan orders a lemonade slushie. After an awkward stalemate over who should pay—we end up splitting it—we find a small table in the corner and settle across from each other.
“So,” I start, but I don’t know where to go from there. All my previous fears about our texting banter not translating to real life itch at my skin as the silence stretches between us.
Morgan takes a sip from her drink. “Sorry again about the impromptu kiss at the party. I feel like that’s maybe contributing to this awkwardness.”
Her frankness startles a laugh out of me. “I’m sure it would be awkward anyway. I’m not exactly good at first dates.”
“Is anyone?” Morgan brushes her hair behind one ear. “And it’s not like Disney ever showed us how to fall for another girl.”
I nod, sipping my strawberry smoothie. “This is the part where I ask you all the stereotypical first-date questions, right? Like ‘What brought you from Minnesota all the way to Massachusetts?’ And ‘How did you settle on Salem of all places?’ Are your parents captivated by the witch trials like all the tourists here?”
“Is your family not? Why live in Salem if you hate its greatest attraction?” Morgan quirks up an eyebrow and swirls the straw through her slushie.
“My mom works at the university. She’s teaching summer sessions this year.”
“Really? My dad just transferred to Salem State, too. He teaches history. Or he will once classes start this fall.”
“Is that why they made you move for your senior year?” I can’t imagine having to leave my friends. An unexpected urge to reach across the table and hold her hand swells within me.
Morgan doesn’t respond for what feels like forever, and I wish I could take back my question or say something funny to make her laugh. After a long sip of her lemonade, she finally meets my eye. “I don’t love that we had to move. Dad gave uspractically no warning. I left my friends and my dance academy back in Duluth.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“But...” Morgan stares at her cup, sneaking a glance at me before she continues. “Moving here was also an easy way to cut ties with an ex who didn’t want things to be over.”
“Why do I get the feeling Gemma spilled about my break-up?” My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it. It’s probably said best friend, already desperate for details.
“Probably because she did, but I totally get it. If I hadn’t left Minnesota, our summers might have looked very similar.” Morgan reaches out and rests her fingers against mine, her movements cautious, yet so much braver than mine. “I have to say, I prefer this version. I could use a fresh start.”
My skin tingles at her touch. My heart races. She definitely likes me. Even without the spelled stones around my neck. “New beginnings can certainly be a good thing.” My phone goes off—a call this time. “I’m sorry. I know this is incredibly rude, but my phone...”
“No, no. It’s fine. Go ahead.” Morgan leans back, taking her touch with her.
