Free Unruly Magic by Camilla Chafer

out of my room. I heard his footsteps grow further away then the front door opened and closed gently. A minute or two later and his car engine started up and I guessed he was reversing across the street to his own drive.
    I sat, staring at the wall, feeling dizzy. After looking at the clock and seeing how early it was – I just couldn’t get out of the habit of waking early – I hunkered down for another hour and slept peacefully alone. It wasn’t until later, when I was looking thoughtfully at the indentation Gage’s head had left in the pillow next to mine, that I realised that I’d had another nightmare free night.
    I ate a very late breakfast in the kitchen – cereal with a big, healthy glass of milk – and the radio turned on to a local station. The annoyingly cheerful host made my head pound. When I heard a shuffling and scraping noise outside, I got up, pulled my cardigan around me, belted it and went to explore. I already knew it was unlikely to be animals rooting through the trash.
    “What are you doing?” I asked when I stepped outside the front door, my eyes blinking from the cold glare of the sun high in the cloudless sky. Gage was stood on my porch in jeans, stained with old paint, and a tee, a big swatch of sandpaper in one hand. There was a pile of things on the porch; big tins of paint, brushes and roller trays. He’d laid drop cloths across the porch already to catch any spills.
    Gage held up the paintbrush. “Painting your house,” he said, like I hadn’t guessed.
    “Why?” I asked, trying not to be awkward because he clearly wasn’t, even though we’d spent the night together. I gulped. Not doing anything, I reminded myself.
“You kept your side of the bet.”
“But you won!” I protested. “The loser is supposed to... lose.”
“I know.”
“You need to get a grasp of the rules, you know.”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know that too.”
“So ... why are you?”
    “Because we’re neighbours and that’s what neighbours do.” Gage turned back to the house and crouched on his heels, turning his attention back to the boards under the window where the paint was flaking the worst.
    “Ah.”
    He swivelled on his heels and looked up at me, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Are you going to watch me all day or are you going to make coffee?”
“Make coffee, I guess.”
“How many mugs you got?”
“Um, four, but I’ll make a flask if you’re that thirsty.”
    “It’s not for me, it’s for them.” Gage thumbed a hand over his shoulder and I looked up just as a truck turned into my driveway. Four big men jumped out and I recognised them all from the poker night, even if I could only remember two by name. One was Annalise’s Beau, the other a small swarthy man named Joe. I waved at them as Gage added, “They’re going to get thirsty too.”
    “I can’t believe you’d all do this for me.”
    “If it makes you feel better, Beau is helping out because he thinks it will help him get into Annalise’s pants faster.” Gage said that low so Beau, who was pulling paint tins out of the truck bed couldn’t hear him.
    “Will it?” I whispered back conspiratorially.
    He grinned. “Absolutely. She’s loved him since junior high, not that she’s going to tell him that and I’ve never seen her happier than when he came back to Wilding.”
I mimed zipping my mouth. Then I unzipped it to say. “Just let me know what I owe you.”
“You can always cook for me in return.”
I looked at the tins and the brushes Gage’s friends were piling on the porch.
“I’d be cooking all month. You might as well move in.”
    “If you insist.” He winked at me so that I knew he was joking. At least I thought he was but he turned away before I could give him a retort. “Coffee when you’re ready,” he said to the wall.
    “Coming up, but one of you will have to share a mug.” I stomped inside the house, wondering when Annalise was about to show up. When I caught