Page 53 of Hexed & Hazy

“What else are we supposed to do?” Her tone is clipped. “She won’t answer your calls, and we have to talk to her.”

Rowan is… right. I wish she weren’t. I don’t want to talk to Scarlet at all, and I definitely don’t want to do it here, but Rowan pushes ahead, and all I can do is follow.

I know it’s Scarlet under a car before she says anything. Her shoes peek at me from under the car—black, chunky combat boots, the quality kind that will last for years. If memory serves me, I bought this pair for her, and seeing her in them now makes my chest squeeze—not with longing but with guilt.

Music blares from the speaker, some indie rock song she used to dance to in her kitchen when she was making us breakfast. Thick, fluffy pancakes, never waffles.

I clear my throat, but it’s not loud enough. Rowan gives me a dry look.

“Scarlet?” she says, loud and even.

Scarlet slides out from under the car. There’s already a sour look on her face—pinched, despite how pretty she is. Her long blonde hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, and her gloved hands are covered in grease. She rises with fluid confidence, and her hands rest on her wide hips, her fingers pushing in the same way mine used to.

Tense.

Whatever feelings I have for her are gone, ruined by our messy last conversation, but the way she glares at me still makes me hot under the collar. “The fuck do you want?”

She’s not talking to Rowan, I don’t think, but I still feel weirdly defensive of my friend. Scarlet has every right to talk to me like that, but someone else? Come on.

Rowan answers before I can say anything. “This won’t take long. It’s witch business.”

That’s probably the best way to approach Scarlet. All business. She grunts and walks away from the car, ripping off her gloves. “What kind of business? You need my help with something?”

“Yes,” Rowan says.

“I don’t do shit unpaid.”

Rowan closes her eyes, and I have a feeling she’s trying not to roll them. “This isn’t that sort of favor. How much do you know about hexes?”

Scarlet turns to us. It’s like she’s giving us her attention for the first time since we arrived. A slow, cunning smile uncurls on her lips. “What? Being a good witch isn’t working anymore, so you had to seek the big, bad witch?”

I know Scarlet has studied up a lot on the kind of magic Rowan doesn’t practice. Hexes. Curses. Jinxes. Demonic summoning. She scared me at first, but after getting to know her, it became clear she was using her magic for justice.

It’s hard to believe she’d use it against me.

Rowan sighs. “That is not⁠—”

“Like I said, I won’t do it for free.”

“Scarlet.” I butt my way into the conversation, even though it seems like they’re perfectly content to go on without me. “Did you hex me? Be honest. That’s all we’re here to ask.”

Her smile drops.

There was once a time when she saved her smiles for me. First, when we were friends, and then… when we were more. Everything has changed now. She looks at me like she hates me, and she probably does. I can’t blame her. I know her better than I know most people, and though others around Starbrook look down on her, I understand Scarlet.

We had a lot in common. Maybe too much. Life made her bitter, but I know there’s someone nice under all of that.

It’s just really, really hard to find now that she’s hiding it from me.

“You don’t get to speak to me,” she snaps. “Don’t look at me. If you need to say something, go through her.”

Rowan crosses her arms, her hip popping out. “This is unnecessary.”

Scarlet turns to Rowan, all sweet smiles once again. “Did you need something?”

If I needed confirmation that Scarlet is still pissed at me, this would be it.

“Yes,” Rowan says. “Did you hex Seth?”