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“Jo, what should I do?” Lizzie throws herself down on Josie’s bed in the most dramatic way possible. Sprawling out across the covers, she blinks up at Josie with pleading eyes. “Help me.”
Josie sighs, swallowing her annoyance as she sets her book down. “I don’t know Lizzie, maybe just talk to them.” She winces. That sounded a lot better in her head. Lizzie had been going on and on about MG and Ethan for the past week now, constantly waffling back and forth between them. The second it seemed like she made a decision Lizzie took it back. To say it was getting on Josie’s nerves was an understatement. “You know if I could do anything to help you I would, but I really don’t see how my input would change anything.”
“What if there was a way you could help me,” Lizzie bites her lip, something mischievous lingering in her face that Josie doesn’t quite like. But Lizzie is her sister and sisters help sisters or whatever. Besides, if Lizzie finally made a decision Josie would at least be spared from her incessant whining.
“Okay then. What is it?”
“It’s just a little spell I found.” The way Lizzie’s voice comes out a little higher than normal isn’t lost on Josie.
She narrows her eyes, “What spell?”
Lizzie hesitates and it’s enough for Josie to know she’s going to hate whatever she says next. “It’s called a dumb supper. I swear it’s harmless. I found it in some of Bonnie Bennett’s old notes.”
Bonnie Bennett? Her spells were rarely harmless. “What does it do?”
“It lets you see the image of your future husband— or sorry Jo, spouse.”
A spell that lets you know who you’re going to marry? Sounds too good to be true. Josie rolls her eyes, “That sounds fake Lizzie.”
“So what if it is? I want to try it.”
Josie inhales sharply, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. This is so stupid, but then again if it stopped Lizzie from talking about MG and Ethan every second of the day…
“Please, Jo.” Lizzie is giving her what she probably thinks is something akin to puppy dog eyes. She bats her lashes. “It’s easy.”
“Fine.” Josie exhales. Guess she’s summoning future husbands tonight.
* * *
Ten minutes before midnight Josie stands in the deserted dining hall. One plate, one glass and one set of silverware laid on the table before her. According to Lizzie that’s all the spell required. The only thing left to do was light the candle. At the stroke of midnight Lizzie would pull out the chair, invite in her husband to be and the candle would extinguish. Everyone gets their happily ever after.
“Is everything here?” Josie startles at the sound of Lizzie’s voice. She thought she left for the bathroom. Lizzie leans forward, peering over Josie’s shoulder to study the table setting for any imperfections.
“Yeah it should be.”
“Great.” Lizzie smiles, “Tell me how it is after you’re done.”
With that, she promptly turns on her heel and heads for the door. It takes Josie far too long to process. “Wait, what? I thought you were doing this?”
“I am. After you try it first.” Lizzie waves at her as she moves to open the door. “I don’t want to freak out over a fake spell. It’s better if you just test-run it. Make sure it’s legit.”
“But what about MG and Ethan!” Josie can feel the panic rising in her chest. The room is suddenly far too warm. She tugs at her shirt collar.
“If the spell works for you, I’ll do it and choose whoever I see.” Lizzie shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Just light the candle, pull out the chair and stay quiet until someone appears.”
Josie opens her mouth to protest, but Lizzie’s gone before she can get another word out. The room is silent save for the sound of the ticking grandfather clock a few tables away. She considers botching it all. Move the plate, throw the fork, something.
It would be easy to lie to Lizzie and tell her the spell worked. She would believe her, but… some part of Josie doesn’t want to mess it up. Getting to know who your future spouse is? Josie’s not sure she could let that slip through her fingers. Just imagining it sprouts a seed of regret in her chest.
What if this was her chance to make sure she got a happy ending? She would know for sure who wouldn’t leave her, who would never hurt her. No more failed relationships. No more broken hearts. She would know who she was supposed to be with.
Though Lizzie had said the spell would reveal your future “spouse,” Josie had read Bonnie’s notes herself and the translation was much closer to “true love” than marital partner. If it worked— G-d if it worked, she can barely think about it.
Josie squints up at the clock. It’s so dark she can hardly make it out. The hand is just a few ticks away from 12. Fuck it. She’s going to do it. Without thinking, Josie leans forward and lights the candle. Her hands are so shaky she almost drops the match.
She sucks in a calming breath and rests her hands on the back of the chair. She can’t take them off until the ceremony is over.
She wonders whose image she will see. Will Josie know them or will they be a complete stranger? What about Finch? They’ve just started dating. Will it be her? Or someone from the past. Penelope? Maya, the girl she never got a chance with? Landon, the one who broke her heart?
The grandfather clock chimes on the hour. Midnight.
“Come in,” Josie says, drawing out the chair. “Come in.”
The candle goes out. The only light in the room is from the windows, faint blue rays leak through the panes in the glass. A chill passes down Josie’s spine. Time is passing slower than it ever has. Doubt begins to creep its way into Josie’s heart. What if no one shows up? What if the spell doesn’t work? What if it’s all bogus? What if—
“Josie,” a voice whispers, achingly familiar. The candle sputters to life as a pair of striking blue eyes find hers across the flame.
“Hope?”
Josie can feel her heart thundering in her chest. Heat climbs up her neck as she struggles to breathe. The room suddenly feels too small. She needs water. She needs fresh air. She needs to be anywhere but here.
“Josie what’re you… why am I here?” Hope steps closer, confusion painting her beautiful features. It’s endearing, the way her brow furrows. “Are you okay?”
This has to be a mistake. Josie misread the spell. She did it wrong. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she sputters out, the sound of her heartbeat pumping wildly in her ears.
Was Hope her future wife? No it wasn’t possible.
“What do you mean? Jo, what’s going on?” Hope reaches for her shoulders. She’s only wearing a tank top and shorts, probably sleeping clothes. They hug her form with a reverence Josie can most certainly appreciate. If her eyes dip to Hope’s breasts, well… she’s a messy pansexual okay.
Josie’s drawn back to reality by the feeling of Hope’s hands as they mark a path across her skin. She slips them down Josie’s arms and intertwines their fingers, leaving a burning trail in her wake. Hope is warm in a way Josie has never felt before. She wishes now more than ever that Hope really was her future wife. The desire burns hot in her chest. She wants it to be true.
“Tell me what’s happening,” Hope searches Josie’s eyes, concern lacing her tone. In the candlelight, her lips shone almost like honey, soft and smooth and so, so inviting. Her words ripple outwards, but Josie doesn’t hear them. What the hell is wrong with her?
“Jo, talk to me. Is someone doing this to you? Are you in danger?”
Josie opens her mouth to say something, explain it away as just a silly spell gone awry— one of Lizzie’s ridiculous shenanigans (which it most definitely was). She barely gets a syllable out before Hope’s gone and the flame peeters out with a gentle hiss.
The room returns to its typical self— dark and cold and hopeless. Josie aches for the candlelight and Hope’s soft smile, but the chime of the grandfather clock reminds her that this is the real world. Here, she has Lizzie who's going to ask a billion questions and a nagging girlfriend she still has to apologize to. Here, she has Hope who is entirely too obsessed with Landon and can not possibly be her future wife.
A horrible thought strikes her. Will Hope remember this? Please, Josie prays to whatever deities are listening, please tell me Hope isn’t going to remember this.