Prologue
Riley
My gram used to say a million things had to line up just right for magic to happen. So many decisions, steps, stars aligning. All to bring us a moment.
A split second alters your life forever.
I always imagined she was talking about good magic. The kind that changes us for the better. One sudden crack of lightning, and suddenly we’re on a new path.
I was so, so wrong.
The magic I got was rotten, thick and cloying. It buried itself in my bones and made sure I never forgot about the moment.
The split second.
I spent all my wishes on something that blew up in my face.
On a boy with an alluring smile and dark eyes.
No.
Eli Black is the sort of person I never should’ve looked twice at—and he never should’ve noticed me.
But he did.
And oh, how I wish he didn’t.
1
Riley
I drop my keys on their hook, fixated on the postcard.
Who sends freaking postcards?
My best friend, that’s who.
Wish you were here! she wrote. The picture is of the Empire State Building, like I’d never been to New York City before. Like I couldn’t jump in my car and be at her apartment in an hour and a half. It’s kind of cute, actually. It puts the city in a different perspective.
It’s been three weeks since Margo left, and her departure has created a crater-sized hole in my chest. I didn’t realize how badly I needed a best friend until Margo infiltrated my life at the beginning of last year. School started a week ago, but no new friends have magically crawled out of the woodwork. In layman’s terms?
I’m totally moping.
I can’t blame Margo. I was used to being alone, so much so that loneliness was like a second skin. I was comfortable in it. Slept in it, breathed through it. Loneliness was my armor. Being around Margo, having a true friend… I shed that skin for friendship.
We’re still friends, but I’m alone again.
“Ri?” my brother yells. “Is that you?”
I kick off my shoes and force myself to set the postcard down. Even the loops of her name create an ache in my chest. I take a deep breath and inhale an odd scent. “Yep. Are you… cooking?”
“Stir-fry,” he calls.
The smell is worse in the kitchen.
Noah stands at the stove, rattling a pan back and forth over the flame.
“Why?” I ask. That’s all I can manage.
“Dr. Penn said I should try something new, and…” He shrugs. “Cooking is supposed to be good.”
“If you don’t kill us.” I offer him a smile and slide the window open. It’s brisk outside, and my cheeks are getting hot. “Where did you find this stuff?”
Boxes of rices line the counter along with bottles of mixed spices and soy sauce.
I peer over his shoulder, eyeing the browning broccoli.
“Jeez, Ri. You stink.”
I elbow him. “Pretty sure that’s the food, dumbass.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He grins.
I hop onto the counter. It’s been a while since he and I have had the chance to really talk, and now seems as good a time as any.
If we were in a different universe, he’d be at Yale, studying for some fancy bachelor’s degree. And I… well, I’d still be here.
“Earth to Riley,” Noah says, pinching my thigh.
I swat him away. “What?”
“You get a weird look in your eye sometimes.”
I sigh. “I was just imagining what it would be like to have a brother who cooked edible food.”
But in reality, my mind goes down a different path: what it would be like if my brother wasn’t here at all.
“You can talk to me, you know.” He clears his throat. “After what happened this summer…”
“It’s fine.” I jump down and force myself to smile. “I’m going to shower. Save some of that slop for me.”
I can already guarantee that Mom is in bed, and Dad will be out late.
It’s a pattern. Everything goes along the same tracks, circling the same conversations, late nights, fights. We can’t fight it any more than we can fight Gram’s so-called magic, which I’m pretty sure is fate’s evil cousin.
I’m halfway naked when my phone rings, buzzing against the bathroom counter.
Margo.
“Long time no see,” I say.
My chest goes all weird and tight again.
“How did it go?” she asks. “Did you—”
“Get your postcard? Yes.” I sit on the edge of the tub and rest my head on my hand. “I think the tryout went well. I ran home just to blow off steam.”
She hums. “It’s going to be great. And school?”
I swallow. “Apparently Jackie is the new captain of the cheerleading team. She seems comfortable on her pedestal.”
Jackie was my friend once upon a time, along with a few other cheer girls—including Amelie and Savannah. We haven’t spoken since sophomore year.
Margo sighs. “You should try to make friends. When do you find out if you made the—”
“Cross-country team?” I pick at my nails. “Yeah, they offered me a spot. Everyone is kind of cold.”
“Riley Appleton, when have you ever not done something because the people were a little cold?” Margo demands. “You love running. You love running so much, but you hid from it all last year. I’m still upset I didn’t find out about it until this summer.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well, it just fell to the wayside. You know how things go.”
She certainly does. Caleb came into her life—or rather, back into her life—like a wrecking ball.
The fact that Eli is all the way up in Maine eases some of the anxiety in my chest. He’s gone. No wrecking ball boys for me—he’s done enough damage to last a lifetime, thank you very much.
Whenever I think of him, I imagine dumping his things across his living room floor.
That was the last time I actually spoke to him.
Did he try to speak to me after that? Yes.
Did I listen? No.
I’ve held strong… and I even went so far as to make sure he never tries to beg for forgiveness. What Eli Black did was unforgivable.
So I did something unforgivable back.
“...coming home for Thanksgiving.”
I frown, taking a moment to berate myself for letting my thoughts slip. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was saying, though.
“That’s months away,” I protest. “You’re not coming home any sooner?”
“Our colleges—both of them—advised that we not go home on weekends. Apparently it is detrimental to becoming adults.” She snorts. “I wish I could make that shit up. Don’t they know Caleb and I already…”
I tilt my head, straining to hear in the background, for the reason she would’ve just stopped. Caleb and Margo live in New York City, but they go to different schools. I’m hoping to join Margo at NYU next year, if...
“Dad’s coming over for dinner,” she tells me. “I’ve got to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Disappointment is hard to swallow.