47 - Let's Talk 'Bout Love - Michaela POV

We've been working on witchcraft concepts we learned yesterday when a crash sounds next to me, and Tally is crumpled in a heap on the floor.

"Grandma Miriam!" I scream as loud as I can.

"Gracious, what's the shouting about?"

All I can do is point in Tally's direction.

"Oh my!" Grandma Miriam says before rushing over to Tally.

After Grandma Miriam looks over Tally, I'm pacing near them.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask.

"What was she doing before she collapsed?"

"I think she was working on that spell, she couldn't get to work yesterday."

"Oh, love, what did you do to yourself?" She asks Tally—like she's going to answer.

"So?" I question.

"More than likely she used so much magic that it drained her energy."

"Drained her energy? I thought we could pull from other sources."

"You can, but it's a technique I haven't taught you yet. She pulled so much out of herself, she didn't have enough to keep her conscious. Was something bothering her to make her try so hard?"

"I'm not sure, but she has seemed off the last few days."

"Probably that fool eejit." Grandma Miriam huffs.

"You mean Danny."

"Ya. She's been overly upset since that call she had with him. I'd like to give him a good one."

"Tanner, can you come over and help me get Tally up to her room."

Tanner comes over with Hunter trailing behind him. They work together to get Tally up to her room. Rushing in, I close the curtains and turn to see Hunter scowling at Tally's picture before disappearing out the door. Interesting.


Once everything settles, and we eat lunch, it is back to learning spells. My head hurts from the amount of information being poured into it.

I am working on the spell Tally was trying, and Tanner is making jokes by my side. He is telling Ande about some girl he dated, and unfortunately at this moment, it reminded me of my last foster brother. I stare intently at the rock in front of me. Surge sursus. Instead of it simply coming off of the table, it goes flying up and smacks the ceiling.

Estel pulls me off to the side.

"What the hell was that about?" she asks.

"I don't know, ya tell me."

"Your past cannot get you here. Those people are not here. The only one you have to fight is your memories of the past."

"Easy for ya to say."

"I can never say that I understand what you've been through, but I'd like you to open up a little more to me and let me try and understand what these outbursts are about."

"The foster brother that pushed me into living on the streets."

Her forehead crinkles. "He was that bad."

"He was worse. He had looks, but he knew it. He was egotistical and self-centered. To him, everything was about him—including pleasure. He had plenty of girls that threw themselves at him. But it was never enough, his ultimate goal seemed to be getting the girls who resisted him to give in."

"You didn't."

I shake my head. "No, never. I am not loose, and I want to wait for the right person. I was not going to allow Patty-cake to take that option from me."

"Patty-cake?"

"Yeah, the name I gave him. By the time I landed in my last foster home, I was so tired of the bullies. I had eventually grown to be able to ignore them, but for some reason, I wanted to fight this time. The oldest foster kid's name was Patrick or Pat. He was the worst, so I fought back. After a few arguments between us, I decided to call him Patty-cake to get under his skin. And oh did it work, too well. His taunting only increased after this, but so did my practice on how to protect myself. I was ready every time he tried to bully me into submission. He didn't like it and started increasing the frequency and intensity of his attempts. I'm happy to say he never broke me. I hope that thought haunts the pendejo for a long time. Not only that, but I'm essentially, as far as I know, the one that got away."

"I feel bad you had to go through that, but I'm happy you adopted that attitude about the outcome."


On break, I go up to change into a lighter shirt. I'm still not used to the humid around here.

The hall seems unusually dark for this time of day, and sniffling enters the hall from Tally's room. The door is ajar, so I knock softly.

"Tally?" I ask, slowly opening the door further.

The scrunched figure of Tally is in the corner of her bed, her head down and arms wrapped around her knees.

"Go away." She sniffles.

"Conejito, what's wrong?"

The response is muffled by her head position. "Danny won't talk to me."

I scratch my head. "And why is this 'portant 'nough to cry about?"

She looks up; her eyes are red and puffy. "Because he's...he's..." Her face creases.

I smile recognizing what's going on. "He's ya other half."

"What?"

"He's the one ya meant to be with forever."

She starts shaking her head vehemently. "No, he's my best friend."

"Don't ya know, best friends can make the best lovers."

Tally blushes. Awe, how cute.

She continues to shake her head. She's in such denial.

"Do ya see this picture?" I ask, picking up the framed picture of Tally and Danny at the lake. "¡Oh Dios mío! Have ya looked at this guy? He's gorgeous. Why haven't ya jumped this yet?"

"He's my best friend."

"Have ya ever been in love? Have ya ever dated?"

She shakes her head.

"And why?"

Her answer is inaudible. "What'd ya say?"

"I've never been asked out."

My eyes widened. "What?"

She looks at a point on the floor away from the bed. "I don't know. Maybe I'm not pretty enough for the jocks, smart enough for the nerds, and enough of anything for everyone else."

"¡Eso es una mierda!"

"Huh?"

"Bullshit, Tally. There has to be a reason guys never asked ya out. I'm not sure what, but there has to be a reason."

She shrugs. "I have no clue as to why."

"It probably has to do with that blonde hunk."

"Because of Danny? No, I don't think so," she mutters.

"Keep denying it. One day, ya'll see that your dear cousin was correct."

She shrugs. Is she becoming like me?

After a long conversation, I offer her advice. I've not dated much, but I imagined myself in love with Boyd Jones at one point.

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[A/N]

Conejito (Spanish) - little bunny

¡Dios mío! (Spanish) - my god/my goodness

¡Eso es una mierda! (Spanish) - That's shit!

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pendejo - While pendejo literally means 'pubic hair', it is rarely if ever used in such a way. Rather, it is mainly used as a stronger form of 'idiot'. You're sure to hear this one shouted from car windows during . An equally great swearword is culero, which rather more literally means 'arsehole'. []

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