Page 16 of Haunting the Deep

Alice’s brow furrows. “Didn’t you read the description? It’s supposed to chase away the riffraff, keep you from interacting with every dead person from here to Timbuktu. But there’s no way you’re gonna avoid the ones you’re supposed to see. You could royally screw things up if you did that.”

I put the book facedown, hiding the cover.

Susannah studies me. “You know something about this, don’t you? Something you’re not saying?”

Great. She’s reading me again. I make eye contact with her. “I had a dream.”

Ipeer out my window at the maple tree, whose red buds glow in the early-morning light. My dad woke me up an hour ago. I was crying in a full sweat, and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep since.

Gracie’sTitanicbook peeks out of my schoolbag on the window seat. I can’t understand how it showed up during a spell for spirits to leave me alone. Was it the spell that moved it, or was Mary right that it was a spirit? Elijah once left a book in the library for me to trip over. It couldn’t be him, could it? And yet for just a split second the idea of having Elijah back is thrilling, however far-fetched it might be. My stomach does a quick somersault.

I frown. Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to think about him? “I swear, Elijah, if this is you…if you’ve been around and didn’t tell me, I’ll be…I willnotforgive you.”

I turn on my side and jerk the covers up to make a point. I lose my grip on the comforter, though, and my fingers spring back, smacking me in the face. There. If that’s not an accurate metaphor for my life, I don’t know what is.

There’s a knock on my door and I sit straight up. “Come in.”

“Was told to tell you we’re eating at my house,” Jaxon says as he pushes my door open. “Am I interrupting something?”

I glance at my clock. There’s still another ten minutes until breakfast. “Just the usual, talking to myself.”

“Oh, well, in that case…” He sits down on my bed and kicks off his slippers. “So what’s up?”

I smile. “I don’t know, Jaxon. You’re the one in my bedroom at six-fifty in the morning.”

“I just mean…You were acting a little jumpy yesterday, and your dad told me you woke up all shaken again today. You haven’t done that in a while.”

I try to smile.I don’t want to tell him why. I want that spell we did to work and for these strange things to disappear. Return to the life I’ve been happy in recently.“I know there’s a normal out there, and I’ll be damned if I don’t find it.”

He pushes his sun-kissed hair out of his eyes. It’s only April, and Jaxon already looks like he stumbled off a beach. “You mean doing witch training with my mom isn’t at the top of your ‘normal’ list?”

I laugh. “Can you even imagine?”

“Yes. Yes, I can. When I was in fifth grade, my mom decided that I needed to learn how to cook, and she invited my entire class to her bakery. Great in theory. Everyone stuffed their faces. But by the time the next week rolled around, there was a whole group of guys calling me Muffin.”

“So you’re saying that if I did witch training with your mom, people might start calling me Witchy-poo or something?”

“Actually, you do kinda look like a witchy-poo.”

“Shut up, Muffin.” I push him lightly.

He picks up one of my pillows and smacks me in the face with it.

My mouth opens. “Oh, you’re so dead.”

I jump on him, and he falls back into a mound of down comforter. He grabs my wrists and rolls on top of me, pinning me under his weight.

He smells like pine trees. “You’re stronger than I thought. I mean, not that strong, but still.”

“You mean I’m dangerous.”

“I mean good thing for me you suck at fighting.”

I laugh, and for a brief second my stomach flutters under his. “You just better hope I don’t learn magic, or I’ll give you a tail.”

Jaxon grins. He adjusts his weight off me and onto his side, supporting his head with his hand. His eyes are focused, and the flutter in my stomach intensifies.

“Will you go to the dance with me?” he asks. “I have a sneaking suspicion we would make an awfully goodTitaniccouple.”