Free Witches & Werewolves: A Sacred Oath by Bella Raven

I say, correcting him.
    “Whatever,” says Jake.
    I apologize to Lucas for my self absorbed rant, and for Jake’s lack of manners. Lucas just seems to take it all in stride. I’m fairly confident that this night has gone about as wrong as it could go, and the worst is certainly behind us. But the minute I think that, it gets worse. My stomach turns with nerves the moment I see Ethan and Olivia walk in. I slouch down and lean back, trying to hide behind Jake, without being too obvious about it.  
    I feel like a complete moron because I know he sees me, and trying to hide just makes me look even worse. My mind races, wondering what he’s thinking. Does he think I’m here with Lucas? Does he even care that I’m here at all?  
    Whatever. I don’t owe anyone and explanation about anything. I can do whatever I want. I could plant a big, wet kiss on Lucas right now and it’s nobody’s business. Although, that might make for an even more awkward night, so I decide better of that idea.    
    Across the restaurant, Olivia’s eyes catch mine, and I see them ignite. A smirk wipes across her face, like she’s caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. I smile at her. It’s the only thing I can do. Her smirk turns to a frown, and the veins in her forehead bulge. Maybe my smile was pushing it?  
    Ethan sits with his back to me, like he doesn’t want to see me. Olivia furiously rants at him in a hushed tone. I try not to pay attention to them, but my eyes keep flitting in their direction—I can’t help myself. And Lucas is watching all of this.  
    This is such a train wreck. I just want to get out of here.  
    Lucas just sits there, observing, staring at me—through me. And I begin to wonder if he can actually read minds, like he claims?
    “You know, it’s a school night, and I know you still need to get some groceries. We should probably do that so I can get home by curfew,” Lucas says.  
    “But she hasn’t brought my second pitcher,” Jake protests.  
    I jump at the chance to escape. “Do you want to be able to eat tomorrow?”
    “Choosing between gratification now, and gratification later ain’t a choice at all,” Jake responds.  
    “All in favor of eating tomorrow raise their hands,” I say. Everyone does, except Jake. But, eventually, he succumbs to peer pressure and finally raises his hand. “Good, that’s settled,” I say.  
    Before I can grab money from my purse, Lucas flags the waitress down, giving her cash. “My treat tonight,” he says.
    “No,” I say.
    “I invited you, it’s my treat. You can get next time.”  
    I huff, but accept his offer. Then I realize that next time obligates me to another meal with him. I see what he did there. Sneaky.  
    Lucas gets his change, leaves a tip, and we file out of the pizzeria. I do my best not to make eye contact with Ethan or Olivia, but I feel his eyes all over me—or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.  
    We stock up on everything imaginable at the grocery store. There’s no telling the next time we’ll get here, with our current transportation crisis. We each push a full cart of groceries through the parking lot to Lucas’s car, and I begin to wonder if this is all going to fit. Jake leads the way weaving the cart, fighting against a broken wheel.
    “I can tell we’re going to be great friends,” Lucas says.
    “Why is that?” I ask.  
    Uncle Jake has decided on the path he will take, and pushes the cart between two parked cars to get there. From here, I can see it’s not wide enough. “Uncle Jake! No!” I scream.
    But it’s too late. Jake rams the cart, squeezing it between the two parked cars. Paint peels from the doors, letting out a hideous squeal that echoes into the damp night air.
    “Jake, what did you do?” I shout.
    “Looked wider,” he says, shrugging.  
    Before I can stop him, he yanks the cart back, carving another groove in the paint of both cars. The shriek pierces my ears, like nails on a chalkboard. Fire