Hold Tight

Brea motioned for me to scoot and went back to dusting. Reluctantly, I returned to the kitchen and ate while I read a chapter in The Scarlet Letter. I’d barely finished a page in the book when Chase shoved the last corner of bread into his mouth and dismissed himself to go play in his room. It was times like this—when I was stuck doing homework and overloaded with chores—that I wished I was young too. But I wasn’t, so I tried to focus on the words in front of me.

At one point, I thought Brea was reading over my shoulder, but before I could turn to check, she appeared in the doorway holding a tall pile of folded jeans. I asked her to leave them on the foot of our beds. She even ran Chase’s bath, but since he couldn’t see or hear her, I had to take a break from homework to make sure he used soap and washed behind his ears.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said later that night.

Brea sat on my dresser, kicking her feet. I got a glimpse of flat green sandals when her skirt fluttered upward.

I sat on the floor, organizing my backpack. “The house looks amazing. I can’t thank you enough. If you’d like, I can show you where the creamer is.”

“I suspect in the kitchen, but that a faerie would drink of your beverages is a myth. One who indulges in such things becomes trapped in your world.”

“How does that work?” I asked, intrigued.

“It just is.” She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed the goose bumps on her triceps.

“Are you cold?” I wasn’t sure if the chill she felt was because her tank top was far from appropriate for this time of year or if it had to do with the thought of being trapped in my world, never to see her family again.

“Now that I’m sitting still, I am quite cold,” she replied. I jumped up and rummaged through my closet while she explained. “I’m of the Summer Court. I prefer to enter your realm after the spring equinox and to leave before autumn dries the leaves and winter nips at the air. Something you might remember should you choose to call upon me again.”

“I didn’t realize faeries were assigned a season.” I yanked my dusty-rose hoodie off a hanger and held it out to her. She took it and put it on.

“You’re an unusual human.” When I gave her a puzzled look, she added, “I’ve been asked to make a dancer lighter on her toes and help a musician play a song that steals the hearts of his audience, but I’ve never been asked to fold the laundry and put a plate in that contraption thingy. What do you call it?”

“A dishwasher?”

“Yes.”

“So…you grant wishes? Like a genie?”

“No. I enhance one’s talent in exchange for their company. Yours is the first house I’ve cleaned.”

“Oh.” I supposed it made sense that a creature as beautiful and graceful as Brea would help humans reach their potential. “I don’t play an instrument, and I only dance at school events.” I plopped down on my bed. “My dad’s been working double shifts. He owns his own business, and it’s been crazy for him. In the past, I was home, so I’d make sure the house was clean and the laundry was done, but this year my teachers are laying on the homework and I have a new boyfriend. I don’t have time for housework too.”

Brea sniffed a burnt-orange candle, immediately crinkling her button nose. “Ew. I’ve never liked the smell of pumpkin spice.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as she set the candle down.

“Will you tell me about your home?” I asked.

“Sanctus?” The corners of her mouth rose to a dazzling smile. “It’s more beautiful than your botanical gardens—I visited one many years ago. And our sky is a canvas of blues and purples, and the meadows are a carpet of deep green.”

I lay down, chin cradled in my hands. “Go on.”

She spritzed the air with body spray, filling the room with the sweet fragrance of mango and mandarin. “It’s the Summer Court’s job to wake the trees and flowers in spring,” she said. “At dawn, morning dew kisses our cheeks, and in the evening when our work is done, we sip bacca vinus, a type of wine, while the jesters play a ballad on their flutes and lutes.” She slid off the dresser. With her arms stretched out from her sides, she twirled effortlessly around the room, finally coming to a stop in a low curtsy. “We eat and dance until the wee hours of the night.”

She grabbed my hands and pulled me off the bed. We spun in a circle until I was giddy and breathless.

“You do this every night?” I asked, panting.

She nodded. “Until it’s time for summer to give way to autumn and for my brother to watch over things. He has it much easier than I, seeing as nature hibernates when he’s in charge.”

Her gaze flittered toward the door to my room, then back to me. “Thank you for the sweater,” she said, zipping it up to her chin.

“You’re welcome.” I stifled a yawn and hugged my pillow. “Thank you for your help today.” My eyelids grew heavy, the busy day evidently catching up to me. I was barely awake when Brea got up. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like.”

“One should never say such things to a faerie.”

Or maybe she’d only said that in my dreams.

Chapter 5 Delectable Treats

Friday morning, Brea was nowhere to be found, but the upstairs was as spotless as downstairs. I hoped I’d see her again so that I could thank her.

I had just finished drying my hair when my cell phone rang. A quick check of caller ID told me it was my best friend, Kaylee Bishop.

“Hi.”

“Hey, get your butt in gear. I’m picking you up in five, and we’re grabbing breakfast before school.”

“Where are the guys?” I asked. Not that I minded Kaylee giving me a ride, but this was the first time in weeks she’d driven the MINI to school. Somehow since her accident—the work of Emma’s dark powers—we had gotten into the routine of Isaac driving me to school and Josh driving Kaylee.

“Josh’s mom is having car trouble, and Isaac’s helping ’em.” The sound of running water flooded from the speaker along with Kaylee’s muffled words. From the swishing sound that came next, I guessed she was brushing her teeth while she talked to me.

I put my cell phone on speaker and pulled a pair of jeans out of my closet. “I’m not complaining about having some girl time, but what happened to Mr. Corey? And why hasn’t someone zapped the engine with their powers to make it run?”

The sound of water on her end went off and was replaced by the jingle of keys. “His dad had to leave early for work, and I guess they have to know what’s broke in order to know what to zap. Three minutes. Be outside.”

Kaylee and I grabbed lattes and muffins from the coffee house and headed to school. Pulling into the parking lot, we drove behind a line of cars at a painfully slow crawl to where the guys normally parked. Neither Josh’s Mustang nor Isaac’s Jeep was there, though, so we parked in one of the spaces.

“Ben’s parents are leaving for Martha’s Vineyard around four tomorrow. Party starts at six.” Kaylee reached behind her to retrieve her bag from the backseat. “I figured we’d show up fashionably late.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Once we walked closer to school, we saw the cause of the traffic jam: someone had parked their shiny black Subaru where parents dropped off their teens. I stumbled when I noticed the creepy dude from the grocery store leaning against the side of the building. A thin line of smoke curled upward from his right hand, which he