Somewhere New (Isle of Doughnut #1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ASTER

F or the second time today, I threw my hands up to protect myself from the bad-times dust being pelted at me.

I recovered a lot quicker this time and dropped my arms to my sides. The powder that hit my shield fell harmlessly to the floor. The concern I’d felt on entering the cabin converted to annoyance. ‘Why the fuck is everyone throwing stuff at me today?’

Callum stared at the powder. ‘You’re a witch?’

The annoyance converted to joy. ‘You know about witches?’

Callum’s face contorted into an expression I never wanted to see again in a thousand years. It was like I’d taken everything he loved and passed it through a blender then presented it to him in a ceremonial cup.

My joy converted back to concern. A normal human being might get emotional whiplash at this point, but I was used to running a gamut of emotions in less than a minute.

‘It’s not a problem. I can barely do anything with it. ’

Callum’s eyes blazed and he took a step back. ‘Stop lying to me.’

‘I’m not lying,’ I countered. I wanted to poke him in his beautiful chest, but everything about him screamed to stay away. I ignored how much that hurt. ‘I mean, I’m normally useless. Only flowers listen to me. It’s since I came to Doughnut that I’ve been able to do anything vaguely impressive like shield.’

At Frank’s, I’d even conjured magical lightning. I’d never thought I’d be able to do something like that. I wasn’t ashamed to admit I shed a few manly tears of wonder.

I’d wanted to tell Callum about it, but I’d long resigned myself to my witchiness being a secret. Dad told me attitudes to magic were different to what they used to be, but I had to be careful who I told. Not even Lukey knew about my measly magical skills.

I wanted to tell Callum about all of it, but even though he knew about my powers, my excited ramblings would have to wait until he wasn’t looking at me like I’d just kicked his favourite puppy. Or goat-baby.

He heaved a shuddering breath. ‘You need to leave.’

It took me a second to process what he’d said. By the time a counterargument produced itself in a brain cluttered with new magical knowledge, Callum had disappeared into the bedroom. I almost tripped over Tim and Albert as I rushed over, to find he’d lugged my suitcase onto the bed.

‘Callum, stop.’

The concern running like an underground river beneath all my other emotions since walking into the cabin converted into panic. I’d thought someone’s first reaction on finding out I was a witch would be disbelief, hopefully followed by awe. I didn’t think learning I could—occasionally—make roses grow slightly more prolifically would make someone so desperate to get me out of their space.

Callum didn’t listen. He tucked my multicoloured underwear into a corner of the suitcase and started adding my T-shirts. ‘You have to go,’ he muttered.

‘Okay. Okay.’ I rubbed my clammy hands on the sides of my jeans as I watched him pack for me, his face a horrible blank. ‘I can go, if you really want me to. I don’t have to be up in the mountains to complete my project. I can stay with Bonnie or something.’

Hopefully, this aversion to my magicalness would be temporary. Once Callum realised I was the lowest tier of witch, I could come back to the cabin and we would resume humping like bunnies.

He shook his head jerkily as he folded a pair of my jeans. ‘No. You need to leave the island.’

‘What?’ That was going too far. Callum might not like me being a witch, but that didn’t give him the right to kick me off the island. ‘No way, Callum. I can’t fucking leave. I’ve got a month left of my project. I have to stay until it’s done.’

And I don’t want to leave you. I didn’t add that part. I wasn’t sure it was totally true at this moment in time. I would quite like to kick Callum right now. If only I was a goat and such urges were acceptable.

Callum clutched a pair of my thick socks. ‘You lied, Aster. I can’t trust you. You have to leave.’

It clicked.

Callum wasn’t thinking about or talking to me.

‘Stop, Cal.’ I climbed up on the bed beside my half-packed suitcase. I rose onto my knees so that we were basically eye to eye. It was better that I was still a little shorter. Callum’s eyes were downcast, had been the whole time he’d been packing.

I grabbed Callum’s hands as he dropped the socks on the pile of clothes. A tremor ran through his arms. For the first time, I got the sense Callum would have liked to have used his superior strength to push me away. I wouldn’t let him. I held on even tighter and shuffled to the edge of the bed until I was all up in his space.

‘I need you to listen, just for a minute, and then you can continue packing if you want to.’ Despite my heart beating out a rhythm more suited to a mouse being hunted by an eagle than a human being, I kept my voice low and even.

Perhaps reassured by the promise he could continue to throw me out of the cabin—and off the island—once I finished speaking, the shudders passing through Callum’s arms slowed, then stopped. I rubbed my thumbs over the insides of his wrists. His eyes flicked up to mine. There was a lot going on in that split-second look. So much fear, barely contained. Determination to root out a threat.

But under it all: hope.

‘Callum, the reason I didn’t tell you I’m a witch is because I don’t tell anyone.’ I spoke slowly, hoping the truth would break through the fear clouding his judgement. ‘And honestly, before I came here there wasn’t much to tell. I could connect with plants and flowers, but pretty much nothing else.’

I once knocked the remote off the arm of the sofa when Dad tried to make me go to bed. I maintained it was my magic that did it, not the wild flailing I’d engaged in as I made the—very valid—point that thirteen years old was mature enough to decide my own bedtime.

‘Since coming here my magic has been stronger, but I had no idea how much it had grown until I hung out with Frank this afternoon.’ A frown formed on Callum’s face, which I hoped meant he was listening hard and processing what I was saying. ‘He threw the fainty dust at me, and I shielded it. I’ve never shielded before. Cal, it was epic. And then he showed me all this other cool stuff.’

The frown had grown, and the words that came out of Callum’s mouth made me wince. ‘You lied when you told me you hadn’t done anything else with Frank. You’re telling the truth now, but how do I know you’re not hiding other things?’

‘Are you not listening to me?’ I gripped his hands. ‘I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know you knew about witches. Cal, as soon as I conjured lightning in Frank’s house, the only person I wanted to tell about it was you.’

Wrong thing to say. Callum wrenched his hands from mine, the stormy frown on his face briefly stuttering when I gasped. He hadn’t hurt me, but the force with which he moved was unexpected. My gentle friend had fled, buried under this guy who was petrified to trust me.

‘You made lightning?’ Callum’s voice was laced with horror.

‘Oh, shit. Yes, I did. But not much. And I stopped, like straight away. I wouldn’t use it for anything bad.’

Callum shook his head violently back and forth. ‘You need to leave,’ he choked out, turning to grab my stuff from the bathroom.

I launched myself from the bed and tackled him. A combination of Callum’s superb balance and my ability to cling like a baby monkey meant we didn’t topple to the floor. I took a second to place my feet firmly on one of the plush rugs, then grabbed his face in my hands. He gripped my wrists, slightly too tight, but he didn’t force me away. I took that as a good sign.

‘Cal, please listen to me,’ I said in a rushed whisper. ‘I know you’re scared right now. I’ve freaked you out. If it helps at all, I wouldn’t have lied to you for even a second if I thought you knew about witches. I would have told you everything.’

Callum’s panting breaths broke over my face as he lowered his forehead to mine. I could feel his frown across my brow.

‘I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. But you need to listen hard to this next bit, okay?’ I rubbed my forehead across his crinkled brow, hoping I’d read this situation right and Callum wasn’t some horrible magic-hating bigot after all. ‘I know it’s hard to trust after what happened to your family, but please believe me when I say: I am not like Naomi. I didn’t hide my magic to hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Cal.’

He let out a shuddering breath, pressing more of his weight into my head and arms. I clasped at the sides of his face, stretching my thumbs to catch the tears leaking from the corners of his scrunched eyes.

‘I know this is scary. Naomi took something huge from you. But I need you to look at me and see me, not her. I’m not like her.’ I licked my lips. ‘Do you remember what I said when you dropped me off for lunch at Bonnie’s the first time?’

Callum shook his head.

‘That’s okay,’ I reassured him, rubbing away the tears inching down his face. ‘I said changing your mind is always an option, even at the last moment.’ I pressed up to rub my nose across his, then lowered onto my heels. ‘That’s the same here, right now. You got scared and that’s okay, but you’re allowed to change your mind. You don’t have to force me away because the fear in your head is screaming that it’s the only option. You can choose to trust me. You can change your mind.’

Callum shuddered, then fell completely into my arms. The hands that had been gripping my wrists wound around my back, crushing me to his chest. With some contorting, we ended up sat on the floor. I hugged Callum with all my puny might, conveying with my arms along with my words that I would not hurt him if I could help it.

Gradually, Callum’s breathing calmed. His hands smoothed down my back, then up to my neck. His fingers traced my chin, and over my lips.

When I looked into his face, his eyes were open. Glassy, but clear and focused.

‘I’m so sorry, Aster,’ he said, his voice rough. Not in the same way as when I’d walked in the cabin. He hadn’t unleashed the pain howling inside of him, but it sounded like his throat had taken some damage anyway.

‘Don’t be sorry.’ I spread my hands over the sides of his face. Callum had put me through the wringer today, but I understood why. Someone getting close to him and lying about something significant was bound to switch his brain straight into protection mode.

Callum frowned, but nodded. ‘I need to talk to my sister.’

I reeled back, then raised one hand from his cheek to his forehead. ‘Callum, you normally run hot but surely you’ve got a hideous brain-eating illness.’

Callum’s mouth twitched into the smallest of smiles. I would spew nonsense until the end of time if it kept anguish from his face .

‘I want to trust you, Aster. I think I do. But I don’t trust my own judgement. Bonnie was there, she’ll know if there are any signs I’ve missed this time. I need to check.’

I nodded, even though a bit of me was gutted Callum couldn’t trust me when I said I wasn’t a family-murdering freak. I understood—as far as anyone who hadn’t been so epically and catastrophically betrayed could—that his trust was a fragile thing. He wanted to believe me, but his faith in his own discernment had been broken once. He wasn’t about to risk it again.

Callum blushed as we stood and he looked at the half-packed suitcase. He pulled me into another hug. ‘Please don’t leave.’

‘I won’t,’ I promised. ‘Tim and Albert would miss me too much.’

Another tiny smile, then Callum kissed my forehead. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

He untangled himself from my arms. While he walked through to the main room and pulled on his boots, I sank onto the bed. The front door clicking shut announced his departure.

Two goats peered into the bedroom. Callum was strict about them staying in the main room, but I figured this was an extenuating circumstance. One head tilt, and Tim and Albert bounded up onto the bed. They chose an arm each to aggressively snuggle under.

I let out a long breath, holding them tight. ‘I reckon someone finding out about my magic couldn’t have gone much worse than that.’