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“Stop being a dick,” Amanda sighed. “It was a pact, not a spell. And it was a best friend’s pact that brothers were off-limits to best friends.”
“Language! All of you!” Ryan grunted. “Charlotte, you are not to repeat the bad words they are saying.”
Charlotte shrugged and kept staring at Amanda and me with the cutest smirk.
“Your family is … different,” Ainslee murmured in my ear.
I ignored her, challenging Amanda. “Well, what about sisters? Was it okay for you to crack onto Rosie’s sisters?”
“I wasn’t into women, so it didn’t apply.”
I don’t know why I was so irritated by this revelation that Amanda had tried some dumb idea of a spell to keep her best friend from possibly dating her brothers. I didn’t want Rosie anyway. And yet my mouth kept running off. “Then you did cast a cockblock spell!”
Ryan frowned. “I was dating Em at the time. I didn’t need a spell to keep women away.”
Amanda ignored him. “Well, the pact’s ruined now that you saw it being performed and have talked about it. What I remember was you couldn’t talk about the spell. If you did, it had no power.”
“Pact’s ruined? You actually believed in it?” I choked out, laughing harshly.
Amanda raised an eyebrow. “We drew blood and swore an oath. It was serious.”
I blinked at my sister.
“Are you a witch, Aunty Amanda?”
“No, Charlotte.” Amanda laughed and sipped her wine, shaking her head. “But I was obsessed with a TV show about witches and thought I was doing something important.”
“We both were,” Rosie agreed. “And the tree was so creepy at night, under a full moon. I totally believed it. At the time, at least.”
Amanda shrugged. “I was seventeen. I believed many things then. Like how I was going to meet Mark Bellamy from Muse in London and then marry him.”
I narrowed my eyes at Amanda, who promptly threw her napkin at my face. “I can’t believe you spied on us,” she scoffed. “And never said a thing all this time. You little creeper.”
I caught the napkin before it landed on my plate as the table dissolved into several people talking at once, all ignoring Ryan grumbling about manners.
Pete gave me a sly smile from across the table and offered to help my mother get the apple pie from the kitchen for dessert.
Ainslee attempted several times to talk about something she’d seen on social media or a streamed show, but none of her topics gained traction for a conversation.
Eventually, Amanda commanded the table’s attention by discussing her ideas for a bridal dress and possible dates for dress fittings with the bridesmaids. Rosie, Stacey and Amanda pulled out phones to look at calendars.
I sighed, half listening to Ainslee ramble on about how romantic weddings were and whether she should be looking for a dress to wear as my date.
“Date?” I asked, confused. “For what”
“Your sister’s wedding, silly!” Ainslee giggled and pawed at my arm.
I inwardly groaned, silently promising myself Ainslee would absolutely not be at Amanda and Stuart’s wedding.
If only there was a spell to help me get through fallen fences, my sister’s wedding and the return of Rosie Zanetti.
And, most importantly, how to talk to Ainslee about ‘us’.
7
TOM
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