BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

26 ✰ Morning, October 14th

"Look at the bright side, this could be your stepping stone for a career at Starbucks."

I peered at Lucy over my dark aviators, the ones I put on this morning to cover the dark shadows under my eyes. As we walked to Lucy's yellow Mini Cooper in the crowded parking lot, I considered the benefits of starting a weightlifting regiment, especially when the undeveloped muscles in my arms strained against the weight of the cardboard box pressed to my chest.

The word 'KEURIG' was emblazoned over the front in bold, black letterings. After shoving the box into the tiny boot compartment, my body slumped against the side of the car, absolutely winded.

I blew a frizzy tendril of hair away from my face.

"Always thought I'd look good in a green apron," I said sarcastically, still struggling to catch my breath.

Lucy smiled at me with a sad look in her eyes.

"Are you sure you're fine?"

I kept my expression as neutral as possible. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's just that you put your Top Gun glasses on whenever you're depressed."

"Maybe these glasses could be my stepping stone for a career as a fighter pilot," I replied blandly.

Lucy didn't buy it one bit.

"So Alpha Magnus came by yesterday, huh?" she questioned with a shake of her head and then muttered disapprovingly, "Couldn't stay away even if he tried."

My chest compressed immediately when yesterday's events played through my mind.

"You don't have to worry about Magnus anymore, Luce. I officially rejected him."

"So it's over for real?" Lucy quirked an elegant brow.

I swallowed the taste of dread in my mouth and slammed the boot shut.

"For real this time."

The drive back from Target to my place was a silent one, which was very unusual for my sister and I. Still, the tiny space in Lucy's car felt too much like a claustrophobic's worst nightmare that all I wanted was to do was stew in my own thoughts. 

I picked at the hem of my t-shirt obsessively, mentally counting the dwindling days before my birthday. I had woken up today deeply troubled by the knowledge that I would eventually have to sleep with someone—and that someone wasn't going to be Magnus.

Seventeen days more.

But despite the stakes, I couldn't imagine being with somebody else.

It was clear to me that Magnus did succeed in ruining other men for me—real or fake. Not even a Riverdale actor could compete with him now.

Lucy pulled up to the side of the curb a few blocks away from my place with the engine still running and I turned to her, perplexed.

Pouting, I asked her haughtily, "You want me to walk all the way with the Keurig and these scrawny arms?"

Lucy took the key off the ignition with a sigh and then regarded me with a sunny smile.

"I can't stand seeing you like this, Lena," Lucy exclaimed. She stilled my fidgeting by intertwining her dainty fingers with mine. Tightening her grip in a show of sisterly support, Lucy said again, "I miss seeing the old Leonora Winterhaven. The one who never cried over anything—the one who would never, ever, wear joggers out in public."

My eyes peeled over my slouchy joggers (pyjama pants, really). It looked horrendous of course, but I was too depressed this morning that I literally rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, put on my Doc Martens and headed to Target to meet Lucy.