Free Spellbound by Cara Lynn Shultz

afternoon in chem. I told him you were coming tonight, and he should come and find out for himself. I mean, damn, Emma, you stare at the guy enough, I had to do something. ”
    â€œOh, no,” I moaned, covering my face with my hands. “Am I that obvious?” I anxiously peeked at him through my chilly fingers.
    â€œNah, it’s not too bad. I just sit next to you so I noticed. It’s not like you’re going to cut a piece of his hair off and build an altar to it,” Cisco said, putting his hands together and bowing. “Oh, Brendan, you’re my hero! You’re ever so dreamy!” he whispered in a high-pitched imitation of a girl’s voice. “I wuv you so much! I want to have a trillion bajillion of your babies.”
    I whacked him in the arm again.
    â€œSo, how’d it go with him?” Cisco continued, elbowing me in the side with a knowing look. “You two sure looked comfy at the end of the bar.”
    I tried to figure out how to phrase it. When I didn’t think about what he looked like, lounging at the bar next to me, I felt like I was talking to someone I’d known for years. And then I’d get a look into those twinkling green eyes, and realize how we just didn’t match.
    â€œI feel really…comfortable with him. Which is weird, cause, well, look at him.”
    â€œYou do look, all the time,” Cisco teased, then lowered his voice. “Heads up, he’s coming this way.”
    â€œHey, I’ll meet you guys at the Met. I’m going to stop for a water and some beer,” Brendan said, the wind whipping his hair in a billion different directions.
    â€œEmma, do you want anything?”
    â€œI’ll just take an iced tea, thanks.” I’d had a few beers and the last thing I needed to do to Aunt Christine was show up on her door hammered, after everything that’d happened and all she’d done for me.
    Brendan regarded me for a minute standing there with my arms wrapped around my jacket.
    â€œTake this,” he ordered, shrugging out of his black hoodie.
    â€œWon’t you get cold?” I asked, hesitantly taking the black sweatshirt from him with frozen fingers.
    â€œNo, I’m good,” Brendan said dismissively. Hell yeah, you are .
    I pulled the oversize—well, oversize on me—hoodie around my jacket and instantly felt better. The sleeves hung low, several inches from my balled-up fists.
    â€œI’ll see you guys in a minute,” Brendan said, turning to walk away. With his hands in his pockets, Brendan walked that same slow, deliberate walk to a deli on the corner.
    About fifteen minutes later, we made our way across Fifth Avenue and crossed into Central Park. The Met stood there, silent and imposing, and I could hear some noise coming from the right side of the building.
    Cisco and I followed Omar, Derek and Samantha, climbing up the rolling green lawn to the right of the massive white building. I recognized the shadowy forms in the distance as some of the people from my class—including Jenn, who staggered over with her arms open. I spotted a two-liter bottle of lemon-lime soda in her hand.
    â€œEmma! You never come out,” she slurred, her low-cutwhite sweater stained with droplets from whatever she was drinking. Jenn shoved the soda toward me and offered me a drink. The sugary citrus-and-cranberry-vodka smell was heavy and sweet as it wafted up from the bottle.
    â€œOh, no thanks,” I said, recoiling at the smell. It reminded me of the perfume Ashley loved. “Beer before liquor, you know.”
    She looked confused, then stumbled back to the group of people near the trees. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out who was there when I noticed Kristin actually smiling in my direction. I stared, stunned, as she waved to me, beaming a bright smile. I raised my hand up to wave and stopped halfway when I realized she was waving behind me—not actually at me. Kristin