The Cast Series Book one - Spellbound

Chapter 12- Adriana

“No.” I growl and bury my face back into the magazine in which Trey pulled it out of.

He rubs the back of his neck, another habit he tends to have when he is thinking. “Adriana, I know you’re mad, but she is your best friend.”

My phone, the one he will die for touching later, is pressed to his shoulder so Siren can’t hear our mini argument (mini because our big fights usual involve flying objects and obscene/made-up words being yelled for the world to hear). “She dissed me, Trey. I have no reason to go save her from the exact same person I warned her about earlier! As I see it, we aren’t even best friends.”

I had tried to take her home but instead of coming with me she yelled at me and walked off with the enemy. When they left, I had no idea where they would go or what Jesse-Man-Whore would do. The bad part? I gave not one damn. She made her bed and now she was lying in it. There isn’t a good reason why I should go to her rescue.

“Yeah. Uh-huh. It’s okay. We’re getting in the car right now,” He speaks into the phone, eyebrows drawn down in a firm stare, before lowering it back against his shoulder. “A, don’t be like this. She needs you.”

“She seemed fine without me.”

“She was wrong, okay? She’s apologizing like crazy. Let’s just go check things out and, if everything is fine, we can leave. I won’t make you stay.”

My fingers pick at the torn hem of my shirt, guilt beginning to ice my veins. We’ve always been this way. Siren would go off with her snot nosed, gelled haired friends and leave me behind. Then when we were alone, we were best friends again. She would mess up and I would be called to bring the mop. It’s been routine for years now. I know how it goes. Yet, by now, I feel obligated to be her sort of wall, hoping one day the favor will be returned. I just hate it… because I get it… the need for someone to pick you back up when you make a mistake and tell you that everything is okay. I’ve been denied that privilege for almost four years.

“Fine. We’ll go.” I slap my magazine shut and try my hardest to repair the damage that wizard did to my hair. Sometimes I complain about my pay to Horarah, saying that someone needs to buy the clothes that get ripped, burned, or taken and for therapy considering each day is a life or death situation.

We grab the car keys from the dispatch office and take to the roads. Trey’s hand is still wrapped around the phone. Always the safety blanket he is, consoling a girl he still isn’t that fond of. 

“You remember when we first met?”

I gnaw on my nail beds, nodding along to the rock station. “Huh? Oh, are you acknowledging my presence?”

The corner of his mouth crinkles in a smile. “You weren’t like you are now. You actually had emotions and blond hair, you even used to smile.”

A pang of hurt radiates in me. “Sorry I bore you,” I mutter and tuck my hands under my butt.

“Not at all, actually, you keep me on my toes. I’m happy you don’t cry anymore, but I miss how I used to make you smile instead of punch me.” We roll into Siren’s driveway and he parks the car, switching off the lights and holding my stare. “Don’t get me wrong, I like this you too. I just feel bad. You’re like those sobbing angel statues in the cemetery… a beautiful sight of unbearable sadness… and I can’t seem to take it away.”