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Hunter touched down and dismounted his staff, rolling back his shoulders to loosen his aching muscles.
“Good work, team!” Willow said. “I think we’re in great shape for the tournament next month. We could really go all the way!”
She beamed around at them, cheeks flushed, practically glowing. A few locks of hair had escaped from her braids, and she tucked them behind her ears while she glanced Hunter’s way. His breath hitched in his throat, and it had nothing to do with the workout she’d just put them through.
It had only been a few months since the Isles had finally gone back to what could be considered “normal” (as normal as anything could be when the population was recovering from the 50-year reign of an evil witchhunter overlord). But Willow had wasted no time in getting the Emerald Entrails back off the ground. Hunter was grateful for that. He was still figuring out exactly what he wanted to do with his life, now that he had the option to even think about it, but one thing he knew for sure—he loved flyer derby. He loved streaking through the air on his new wolf palisman, Rascal. He loved talking strategy with Skara and dramatically reenacting the highlights with Gus after a game. He’d even befriended Viney’s griffin (well … sort of).
Willow’s eyes found Hunter’s again, a dimple pressed into her cheek like a kiss. All his insides went soft, and a hazy warmth washed over him.
That was what he loved most about flyer derby. Captain Willow Park.
“So are we free?” Gus asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Or are you gonna make us do that horrible double-dutch vine jump thing again?”
“Hmm.” Willow gave Clover a thoughtful scratch on the head. “How about we wrap up with a friendly game of two on three?”
Skara and Viney exchanged a Look and folded their arms in unison.
“No way,” Skara said. “You guys always beat us.”
“Well, how about you two and Gus versus me and Hunter?” asked Willow.
Gus shrugged. “That’s cool with me.”
“No, not cool!” Skara tapped her foot impatiently. “We’re not worried about you. It’s those two.”
She jut her chin out toward Hunter and Willow, and behind her, Viney gave a stiff nod.
The tips of Hunter’s ears went warm. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m talking about your weird, like, vibes.” Skara gestured between them. “You guys are unstoppable! It’s like you can read each others’ minds or something.”
It took all of Hunter’s willpower to keep his eyes from darting to Willow. He liked to think he understood her pretty well. He even indulged in the idea that there was some kind of connection between them—that she knew him just as well as he knew her, that they could know what the other was thinking even without saying it. Sometimes he was so sure that she was giving him a message with just a look. It’s how they survived the last battle with Belos. How they’d won almost every flyer derby game they’d ever played together. Somehow he always knew just where to go and what she wanted him to do.
They made a good team. That much was for sure. But maybe that’s where it ended. Maybe she was just a good captain who communicated well with her team members. And Hunter had always been a good follower (a thought that made him wince internally—but Willow was nothing like Belos, and honestly, he would follow her to the ends of the earth).
Viney stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Look, we all know you and Hunter are our best players. And you have crazy chemistry on the field. It’s not fair for you to always be on the same team. Skara and I aren’t playing unless you two are split up.”
Finally, Hunter cracked. His eyes slipped over to Willow. It was hard to read her expression from here, but he could guess what it looked like, based on the curve of her shoulder and the plant of her feet and the angle she held her staff. He had to give Viney credit for not backing down. He’d been on the receiving end of this particular Willow look, and it was an experience he had actively avoided since then.
A strange sort of pride swelled in his chest. She wanted to be on his team. She liked him. She chose him. She was fighting for him.
“Okay,” Willow said. “We’ll do girls versus boys. Sound good?”
Hunter blinked. She didn’t sound upset at all. Her tone was light and casual, and now that he was looking again, her shoulders were much more relaxed than he’d thought. He must’ve read her wrong. (He tried not to feel disappointed about that, but his heart sank, just a little.)
“Oh, yeah.” Skara grinned, jabbing a finger toward Hunter and Gus. “You guys are going down.”
“Ha! We’ll see about that,” Gus said. “Hunter is our star player, and you don’t even know how much you underestimate the Gusinator.” He struck a dramatic pose, splaying one hand across his chest.
Hunter’s lips slipped into lopsided smile. “Yeah … I would advise against underestimating Gus. I’ve made that mistake before.”
He turned to Gus, who was already waiting with his fist raised. They mimed an explosion with their hands.
“Okay,” Willow said, “quick water break, and then it’s go time.”
A few minutes later, they all jogged back out to the center of the field and grabbed their flags. Hunter stood side by side with Gus, gripping Rascal’s staff firmly.
“Ready?” Willow grinned that heart-stopping, dimple-popping smile of hers. “Let’s fly!”
Hunter kicked off the ground and rocketed into the air, relishing the familiar feeling of the wind in his hair. He’d flown on an artificial staff plenty of times as the Golden Guard, but there was something indescribable about being on a real staff, with his own palisman, with his head bare and his heart light, surrounded by his friends.
One of which was already on his tail, reaching for his flag. He jolted away in a rush of gold—Flapjack’s last gift to him—and grinned at Skara’s groan.
The first part of the game flew by. The field was alight with spell circles and streaks of color. Everyone seemed to be at the top of their game, but no one had managed to steal a flag, let alone make it onto the post. It almost seemed like a deadlock.
Until Willow fell off her staff.
Hunter had no idea how it happened. There didn’t seem to be any reason she would fall. But there she was, plunging toward the earth and what would be certain death, if she weren’t, well, Willow Park.
Hunter tried to pull his focus back to the game. It wasn’t like she needed help. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. In fact, she’d probably find a way to steal his flag on the way down.
But as he hovered in the air, scanning the field, he listened for her spell. Just in case.
Any second now. Any … second …
A jolt of alarm ran through him. She wasn’t doing anything. Why wasn’t she doing anything?
Hunter’s head snapped back toward Willow. Even in freefall, she seemed strangely confident, body poised and relaxed in the air. Her gaze was already there to meet his, like she’d been expecting it, like she’d just been waiting for him to crack.
Willow Park plummeted toward the ground, staring straight at Hunter, smirking.
Hunter swallowed. A quick glance around the field told him no one else was going to catch her. Gus had finally managed to snag Viney’s flag, and Skara was chasing after him as he rushed toward the goal post.
Willow was still falling.
He locked eyes with her again, panic searing through his chest, and even from here could swear he caught the flash of her dimples.
She was dangerously close to the ground now. No one else could save her without his teleporting powers.
He was too far away to see her expression now, but he didn’t need to see her face to know what she was saying.
Catch me. I dare you.
So he did.
She was solid and warm and soft and everywhere. His arms were full of her, and so were his lungs. Even after an hour of training, she still retained that signature earthy, floral scent that never failed to make him a little dizzy. Which seemed kind of unfair, honestly, because Hunter was pretty sure he smelled like old selkigris at this point.
His cheeks blazed at the thought, but if he really did stink that bad, Willow didn’t seem to mind. She settled behind him and hugged him tightly around the middle, pressing her whole front flush against his sweaty back.
It was a good thing Hunter was on his staff, because his legs instantly melted into something akin to a witchling’s first attempt at abomination goo. His heart thundered in his chest, and he wondered if she could feel it against her own.
Willow leaned forward to tuck her chin over his shoulder. Her hair tickled his ears, and her warm breath ghosted over his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Thanks, Hunter,” she murmured, and a little thrill ran through him, like it always did when he heard his name on her lips. He breathed in her wildflower scent, committing to memory the weight of her arms around him.
“Don’t mention it,” he murmured back.
“Oh my Titan, are you okay, Willow?” Viney hovered above them, followed closely by Gus and Skara.
“I’m fine,” Willow said. “Thanks to Hunter.”
He could hear the smile in her voice—a teasing lilt, light as a feather, like it was a joke they were all in on.
“Yeah, it’s a good thing he got there in time,” Skara added. “You would’ve been toast!”
Hunter frowned. “Well—”
“Yep!” Willow said quickly. “He saved me.”
Hunter attempted to twist around to look at her, but her arms just tightened around him. “Captain, you don’t have to—”
“You’re welcome, by the way!” Gus cut in, waving his arms. “For winning the whole game without you!”
Hunter glanced up at the goal post. Sure enough, three flags waved from the spikes.
“Oh,” he said. “Nice work.”
Skara sniffed. “I still think illusions are cheating.”
“Why? Too clever for you?” Gus grinned.
“Whatever.” Skara tossed her ponytail. “I gotta get home.”
“Yeah, I gotta go too,” Viney said. “Puddles needs a bath today. See ya!”
Skara and Viney both waved and took off across the field.
Hunter touched down on the ground. For a moment, Willow kept holding him. Then Clover buzzed over, and she slowly slid her arms away.
(Was he crazy, or did it seem … reluctant?)
“Alright, I’ve done enough girlbossing for one day,” Gus said. “I’m outta here too.”
Hunter scooped Rascal onto his shoulder as he transformed back. “Uh … enough what now?”
“It’s a human word. Luz taught me.”
“Are you sure you’re using it right?”
Gus shrugged. “I’ll catch you guys at school tomorrow, okay?”
“Wait!” Hunter said. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay? Shoot.”
“Um.” Hunter glanced back at Willow, who was whispering to Clover. “Let’s grab our bottles.”
They strode back to the benches. As soon as Hunter was sure Willow was out of earshot, he turned to Gus.
“Why do you think she did that?” he asked in a rush.
“Okay, who did what now?”
“Willow. She made me catch her.”
Gus shook his head. “Dude, what are you talking about? She didn’t make you catch her. She just needed help.”
“No, she didn’t!”
“She was falling to her death!”
“She was not! She could’ve saved herself. I mean, why didn’t she magic up a big plant to cushion the fall or something?”
“I don’t know—maybe she was panicking! Falling from a billion feet in the sky tends to make people panic!” Gus snatched up his bottle from the bench—some bright orange human drink called Alligatorade.
“Not Willow,” Hunter said.
“Yes, Willow.”
Hunter folded his arms and gave Gus his best “Bro, are you serious” look. “Have you met her?”
“Yes, I’ve met her. And I’ve known her for a lot longer than you have, by the way.” Gus took a drink and wiped his mouth. “Look, man, I know you have a big thing for Willow, and maybe that obscures your judgment a little.”
Hunter hoped his ears didn’t look as red as they felt, but Rascal’s little chuff in his ear told him he wasn’t hiding anything.
“But I’m telling you,” Gus went on, “as Willow’s best friend of many years … she has limits, okay? She gets scared sometimes. She panics. And she definitely doesn’t purposefully fall off her staff to make her crush catch her.”
Hunter’s ears had to be glowing at this point because they felt like they were on fire. “Her crush?” he choked. “I—I’m her crush?”
Gus considered him over the top of his Alligatorade. “Titan, you’re both helpless.”
“Wait—hang on—so she was …” Hunter swallowed. “Flirting?”
Gus rolled his eyes. “Hunter, a playful shoulder touch is flirting. Plummeting to your death is not.”
But Hunter was barely listening, because he was remembering the smirk on Willow’s face as she waited for him to come.
Flirting.
“I mean, yeah, Willow flirts with you plenty,” Gus said. “But this was … not that. Except maybe the part where she was, like, nuzzling into your neck. That was a bit much.”
Hunter shook his head a little. “I—yeah. Okay. Thanks for the advice, Gus.”
“What advice? All I said was that almost dying doesn’t count as flirting.”
“Sure.” Hunter glanced over Gus’s shoulder, back to Willow, who still talking to Clover.
“Actually—you want my advice? Just ask her out already. I’m tired of this. Also, I’m leaving.” Gus stepped onto his staff. “See you, Hunter.”
“Bye,” Hunter said faintly. And then Gus was gone, leaving Hunter alone with Willow.
He walked slowly back to the middle of the field. She watched him approach, setting Clover on her shoulder.
“Hey, Captain.” He hesitated. “Are you staying to train more?”
“Actually, I was hoping you could give me a ride home,” she said.
“Uh.” He glanced at Clover. “Why?”
“The fall scared Clover. And she’s tired. I think she could use the break.”
As if to prove the point, Clover slumped dramatically on Willow’s shoulder with a sad buzz.
Hunter had seen his fair share of liars, and Clover was the worst liar he’d ever seen.
He cleared his throat. “Sure. We’d be happy to give you a lift.”
Rascal scampered down Hunter’s arm, transforming into staff form.
“Alright.” He swung his leg over the staff. “Hop on.”
Willow climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist once again.
“Hold on tight,” he told her (pointlessly).
“Oh, I will,” she answered (flirtingly???).
Then Hunter kicked off, and they were back in the air.
The ride to Willow’s house was quiet. Hunter searched desperately for something to say, but with Willow hugging him like that, his brain was mush anyway. She rested her chin on his shoulder again, and he thought she might speak, but she didn’t—just let out a small noise somewhere between a hum and a sigh.
Hunter didn’t mind the silence. It was nice, being here with Willow, with Bonesborough scrolling by beneath them. The afternoon sun spilled over the rooftops, lining every edge in gold, and the breeze ruffled through his hair, drying the sweat from his forehead. He breathed in deeply, taking it all in, and behind him, he felt Willow do the same, her chest swelling in unison with his.
Soon his nerves had settled, and he’d grown very comfortable with the weight of Willow’s arms around him. Her house came into view much too quickly, and he racked his brain for an excuse to keep flying, but nothing came. All he could do was nudge Rascal to slow down to prolong the ride, if only a little.
He landed in front of her house, at the end of the winding stone path up to the door. Just like last time, there was a second’s delay before he felt her arms slip free.
“Um, do you want to come in for a second?” she asked, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Say hi to my dads?”
“Oh. Sure.”
Together they started down the path, past mounds of bright flowers—Willow’s handiwork, of course. They both walked slowly, and he had to believe that she was dragging this goodbye out just as much as he was.
“That was a good practice,” he offered.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Really, really good.”
“I think the whole team works well together.”
“Definitely.” She paused. “But I think Skara and Viney had a point. Some team members work even better together. Don’t you think?”
Hunter turned to her as they walked, catching the glint in her eye and the barest hint of a dimple on her cheek. (Flirting.)
“Really?” he found himself saying. “Like who?”
“You,” she said.
“Me?” He feigned surprise. “Me and who?”
“Well, you and—and—”
She tripped and nearly faceplanted into her flower patch, but Hunter had quick reflexes. He lunged forward and caught her, one arm supporting her back, like a dip in a dance.
Willow’s mouth fell into a tiny o. She blinked up at him behind a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes.
“Careful, Captain,” he said lightly. “People might start to think you’re … doing this on purpose.”
Pink dusted her cheeks, and she looked so ridiculously cute that something came over him—something reckless and shameless and wanting. He leaned in a little closer, voice dropping to a murmur.
“If you want me to hold you,” he said, “you just have to ask.”
At this, Willow’s face exploded in pink, and tiny blossoms sprouted from her hair. Hunter felt his own cheeks grow warm, but his brazen spike of confidence hadn’t quite subsided yet, so he kept her there a moment longer, allowing his face to break into a grin.
It was then that he realized just how close they were, noses just inches apart. He stared into her eyes—a vibrant green, like her garden, like her magic, gilded with the light of a sinking sun.
The green vanished with a blink, and when she opened her eyes again, they darted down his face.
Hunter mirrored her, dropping his gaze to her lips.
Immediately, his heart jumped into his throat, and the tips of his ears lit up. But he swallowed down his panic and forced his body to move calmly as he brought Willow slowly back to her feet.
She stood there, cheeks blazing, mouth agape, with the sunlight drenching her in gold. That familiar hazy warmth swept through him, making his heart thrum and his fingers twitch by his sides.
“I—” Willow blinked and shook her head. “I gotta go.”
“I thought I was coming in with you.”
“Um, actually, now’s not a good time. Maybe later.”
“Oh. OK.”
Willow’s fingers closed around the doorknob, but she didn’t twist it. Instead, she turned back to look at him, with sunbeams caught in her hair and roses blooming on her cheeks.
“Bye, Hunter,” she said breathlessly. He caught the glimmer of one more dazzling, dimpled smile, and then she disappeared through the door.
For a moment, Hunter stood frozen on the path. His mouth felt suddenly dry, limbs weak and shaking, like his sudden flare of boldness had just been drained away.
“Rascal,” he croaked, “what the hell just happened?”
When Willow got out of the shower, her scroll had no fewer than nineteen messages from Gus.
illusion_master: ok i’ve been thinking
illusion_master: what actually made you fall off your staff today
illusion_master: ?????
illusion_master: like. no one was even near you
illusion_master: hunter said he thought you fell on purpose and i told him that was stupid
illusion_master: because it IS stupid
illusion_master: but….is he right?????
illusion_master: did you really fall off your staff ON PURPOSE just so he would have to catch you????
illusion_master: willow were you actually FLIRTING
illusion_master: IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK FLIRTING IS
illusion_master: ANSWER ME PARK
illusion_master: your silence is very incriminating
illusion_master: i dont know what is more shocking. the fact that you exhibited such loser behavior or the fact that hunter was right about something for once in his life
illusion_master: was it worth it willow. was nearly dying worth it so you could get a noseful of hunter’s sweaty armits. titan
illusion_master: honestly you two deserve each other. you’re both so embarrassing
illusion_master: i hope you had fun on your romantic afternoon staff ride that you think i don’t know about
illusion_master: TITAN
illusion_master: it’s a good thing he’s so stupid in love with you or this would be too pitiful to watch. in fact im having a hard time watching as it is
illusion_master: titan!!!!!
Willow stared at the second-to-last message, feeling like she was about to explode.
he’s so stupid in love with you
Not even her dad’s breathing exercise was helping her with that one.
She flopped back on her bed with a huff. Even fresh from the shower, with wet hair clinging to her shoulders, she felt ridiculously overheated. Titan.
She’d been flirting with him for months. Since their days in the human realm. Honestly, she’d probably been flirting with him since the day they met. But he’d never really flirted back. He usually just blushed and didn’t say anything.
But she knew he was getting the message. Hunter always got the message. He liked her. She was sure of it. And he had to know that she liked him back. She figured she just needed to wait. Take it slow. Give him time.
Willow considered herself a pretty patient person. That was kind of a requirement for plant magic, anyway. Plants were all about slow growth.
But even plant witches run out of patience. Sometimes, if a plant refuses to flirt back at you, you have to take drastic measures. Like falling a hundred feet in the air, for example.
It really wasn’t that big of a deal. She knew he would catch her. It was barely even a risk.
… Okay, she had risked her life just a tiny bit. But honestly?
It was nothing compared to the deadly experience of Hunter being smooth.
If you want me to hold you, you just have to ask.
Willow buried her face in her pillow and screamed.
