Page 13 of Death Card

“Are you, really? Because it doesn’t look like it from where I’msitting.” I face him head-on, waiting until he meets my gaze. “What’s going on with you?”

Orion is silent as he mulls over my question.

Even though I defended him to Gramps last night, I can’t deny that the drinking is getting excessive. A year later and I still miss Gran as much as the day she died. I know I’m not the same; I never will be. But I’m worried he’s going to hurt himself, eventually.

I’m older than him by three minutes. If you believe in birth order, he’s got the younger-sibling routine down. He’s the baby of the family, and our grandparents always treated him like he needed babying. He couldn’t keep up with deadlines or assignments to save his life. Any responsibility he’s ever been given has been wasted. Gran and Gramps showed him more patience than I ever received, but only because they knew I could be relied on to keep my head on straight. When I fell short, they knew I could do better. Orion has never given them a reason to think the same.

“Come on,” I say. “You know you can talk to me about anything—”

“Forget it,” he mutters, sipping from his Red Bull. “We should talk aboutyouinstead, Miss Witch Queen.”

I groan. “Please. Let’s not.”

His eyes sparkle. He knows every single one of my weak spots. “Why not? You should’ve seen this coming in those cards of yours.” He nudges my shoulder, but I shift my chair farther away. “It can only be you. I don’t get why you’re so bummed.”

“This is why.” I point my finger at a candle sitting on the counter and visualize the wick bursting into flame. A tiny sparkflickers before disappearing in a thin tendril of smoke. “See? My magic is weak as shit.”

“No, it’s not.” Orion snaps his fingers, and the wick ignites in a steady flame. “You just don’t try hard enough.”

I cross my arms. “I’ve been trying my entire life.”

“Yeah,” Orion drawls. “That’s what you say.”

He waves to our first customers as the bell over the door rings. It’s an older white couple who peers at everything very closely. “I think you underestimate yourself.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He frowns. “That’s not true. When it comes to magic, I know what I’m capable of. But you seem to run from it.”

“I’m not running from anything.” Gran and Gramps have always beaten it into our heads that spells must be backed up with intention. We have to picture the outcome while pulling from the power within. Most witches use a single word spoken aloud to activate the spell, but some people are either strong enough or practiced enough to cast in silence.

I’m well versed in the intricate workings of magic, but I have trouble with the execution.

“Besides, I wasn’t talking about magic,” I begin, turning the subject back on Orion. “Why can’t you—”

“Excuse me,” the older woman says. “Could we have some help over here?”

“Sure!” Orion takes the opportunity to make a quick exit and disappears with the lady into an aisle.

As I’m about to take my phone from my pocket, someone slaps a poster over the bay window, right over ourHelp Wantedsign. I spot a flash of blond hair and I’m on my feet in an instant.

Britney Dupree is already hightailing it down the street with an armful of rolled-up posters. Her father’s smug grin stares back at me from the one she smacked onto our window.

Mike Dupree for City Council.As if.

“Hey!” I yell after her. “You can’t leave this here.”

Britney stops and whirls around. I can see her sickly sweet grin from here. She backtracks and places her free hand over her chest.

“I’m sorry, Mikaela! I didn’t even realize what store this was!”

I point up at the sign. “Have you lost your eyesight?”

“Nope, just my ranking.” She laughs and reaches up to take down the poster. “I’m kidding, of course.”

Something tells me she isn’t. Britney Dupree and I have continued our families’ rivalry by attempting to best each other in academic standing all four years of high school. When I won the top spot as valedictorian, it ended our individual feud.

“It’s really cute that your grandpa thinks he has a chance.” Her positive tone is at odds with her rude statement. “He might as well drop out of the race now.”