Some Kind of Magic

I had never met a boyfriend’s parents before, but then again, I had never had a boyfriend in the first place, so I had no idea what to expect. Of course I had already introduced myself to Ryan’s parents, but this was a chance for them to actually get to know me, and even though I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head that they would particularly dislike. If they were anything like my parents, they would come up with any excuse for me to not be with their son—even if they had to go five generations back in time just to find something wrong with someone, they would.

“You need to calm down,” Ryan said, laughing at me as I bit my lip and gripped his hand tightly. My nerves were getting to me, and all I could do was try to think of things that would make me seem impressive enough or a nice enough girl for their son, but instead, I could only think of all of the stupid things I had done in my life, and all of the high school crap that had gone on earlier with Mackenzie. I had been trying so hard to avoid that, and I was going to be so humiliated if I ended up discussing it with his parents. I didn’t want to come off as an immature teenager whose life revolved around drama.

“I can’t help it. I’m anxious,” I said, my legs shaking as we approached his front door.

“They’ve met you before. There’s nothing to worry about,” he said, giving me a reassuring smile. “They love you. Trust me. This is just an opportunity for them to get to know you a little bit better.” He opened the door and pulled me inside, called out “we’re here!” and his mother emerged around the corner, an excited grin settled on her face.

“Isabelle! It’s great to see you,” she said, pulling me into a sudden embrace. At first, I was taken aback and didn’t know how to react but after a moment’s hesitation, I hugged her back. “It’s chilly out there, isn’t it?”

“A little bit,” I laughed, and could practically feel all of the hairs on my arms standing up under my jacket. I had been so fixated on making myself look nice that I had forgotten to take into consideration the conditions of the weather outside. Heels and a skirt were not a smart choice at all.

“So, we have a slight change of plans,” Ryan’s father said, stepping around the corner and drying his hands on an already saturated rag. “Ryan has so graciously offered to cover dinner for the evening, and he said that you wouldn’t have a problem helping him out. Is that okay with you?”

I lifted a shoulder. I hadn’t actually been given any notice on the matter, but I enjoyed cooking, and I enjoyed it even more when I was doing it with Ryan, so there was no objection to be heard from me. “I’d be happy to,” I smiled. “What are we making?”

“That’s completely up to you. Ryan.” He looked at his son and pointed a finger. “She’s underage, isn’t she? So she can’t drink?”

Ryan nodded his head. “But wine isn’t a really hard alcohol, dad. And we’re having it with dinner, after all, so I’m sure it would be okay to just give her a taste.”

“What do you say, Isabelle? You up for a little red wine?”

“Sure, I’ll try some,” I said. “As long as I have some water to go with it. I’ve never drank alcohol before, so I can imagine it won’t take much for me to get tipsy.”

He laughed and thumped me on the back, and it wasn’t the strength or speed applied to it, rather the surprise that it presented me with which had me nearly falling out of my heels. “That’s my girl. Here, take your shoes off and get to work. Ryan says you’re quite the little chef, so we’re looking forward to seeing how it comes out.”

I was flattered, but they were gravely mistaken. I liked to pretend I was good at cooking. Anyone could throw pasta in a bowl of boiling water and wait seven to fifteen minutes for it to soften. It certainly wasn’t rocket science. However, it took some serious skill and practice to be able to make a tasty meal, and also present it in a manner that didn’t make it look inedible. I possessed neither of those talents. But to me, it really didn’t matter how many teenage boys made jokes behind my back, and the backs of every other female, or whispered and giggled whenever we talked about what we wanted to do with our lives; I didn’t belong in a kitchen, and it wasn’t my place. I had been burnt far too many times on things that should not be touched to learn that my designated place was, on the contrary, far far away from the kitchen.

Ryan practically dove into the kitchen and got to work immediately. He began pulling a bunch of food from the fridge and giving me instructions on what my job was, and all I could do was watch with admiration while he worked so passionately, and move around the kitchen as fast as I could to keep up with him. I looked like a fish out of water.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a good half an hour. I looked at him over my shoulder. “Quieter than usual. You tend to have something to say most of the time. Is there anything on your mind that you want to talk about?”

Truthfully, I didn’t have the guts to tell him about Dylan and all of Robbie’s accusations, so I stuck on the simpler of the two, which was still a concern but not what I had been thinking about the most.

“It’s just my mom,” I said, but that was only partly true.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s just been getting on my nerves lately, with all of the college talk and what she says about you,” I replied. When I looked up at him, he looked curious but only shrugged his shoulders and went back to chopping onions.

“You know, to be completely honest, I don’t really blame your mom for what she thinks of me,” he said. My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Are you joking?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, your mom comes from one of the wealthiest families in the city. It’s only natural that she would have high expectations. And let’s face it; I don’t exactly have an admirable educational history.” I opened my mouth to disagree, to tell him that it didn’t matter, but he cut me off. “When she was your age, she was living in a high-class society, and we’re considered ‘middle class’. It’s something she’s not used to, so I’m not upset that she wants better for you. I’m just determined to prove to her that I wouldn’t disappoint her, regardless of the lengths I have to go to. She’s a mom. She worries. It’s only natural.

“I’ll admit that I’m upset she thinks so lowly of me but that’s her opinion. I can only hope that I can change it. I can’t force it on her,” he said, turning his head to give me a reassuring smile.

“But—” I stuttered, and realized that that thought wasn’t going anywhere.

“It doesn’t bother me, so it shouldn’t bother you.” He rubbed my back and kissed my cheek. “It’s not a problem, okay?”

He was right, and I felt a lot better. However, the real problem was, my mother actually wasn’t the problem at all.



“Put me down, Blade,” I said demandingly, thumping my brother on his back with my fist. I had resolved to finish the last of my homework before the end of the weekend, but Blade was determined to get me out of the house and in the midst of my studying, had snuck into my room—unbeknownst to me because of my music blasting in my ears—hiked me over his shoulder, and carried me down the stairs to take Abel out for a walk.

“Not until we’re out the door. Get her shoes, boy,” Blade instructed, pointing to my runners and of course, my well-trained dog took them into his mouth and carried them out onto the porch. Blade closed the door behind us and put me down on solid earth again.

“There you go. Now put them on,” he demanded. I rolled my eyes and did as I was told, and he handed me the coat he had scooped off the bench at the front door.

“You’re a pain in my ass, did you know that?” I asked.

Blade scoffed. “We share blood, and you’re a teenager, so that makes you ten times more of a pain in the ass,” he smirked, and nudged me with his hip. “Now move. We’re taking the back route?”
“The back route? You mean the train tracks?”

“Correct.”

Blade and I had taken Abel out for walks together for years, but it had been a very long time since he had willingly walked on the train tracks. When Abel was just a puppy, his leash had broken and he’d run off. When we found him three hours later, after calling a neighbourhood search party together to look for him, we found him cowering under a bush, having barely avoided being hit by the night train. We vowed not to take him out on the tracks anymore, because of the serious emotional scarring that it had caused him.

I was wondering if he would even be able to get near them again, but as soon as Blade leaned down next to Abel and set him free, he went running off, but stayed within our view.

I smiled and stepped onto the tracks, and Blade immediately offered me his hand to keep my balance. I accepted it graciously.

“So what’s new with you?” he asked me. “I feel like we haven’t talked in years.”

“Blade, we talked at the breakfast table this morning,” I said.

“That’s different. I mean talking, you know, like . . . like talking.”

I smirked. “Right, because that really clarifies things for me.”

“Don’t make me let go of your hand. I know how much you like it up there.” He tilted his head up at me and lifted his brows testily. “Well? I can see something’s on your mind. You might as well tell me now, while we have the chance to talk about it. Otherwise mom will get involved, and then there will be yelling and screaming and stomping of feet, slamming of doors—”

“Okay, I get the gist,” I laughed, and quickly contemplated what excuse I should use for not discussing Dylan, but couldn’t come up with one. Truthfully, Blade was the best person to talk to about my problems, despite how he would usually slap his hands on his face and cry, “oh, the drama! The horror!”, making me feel stupid. No one gave better advice than he did.

“So?” he prompted and I took a deep breath.

“Well, there’s this guy at my school, Dylan . . .” I started, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for some sarcastic remark but when nothing came except for the slightest twitch of brotherly discomfort, I continued. “Robbie keeps telling me that Dylan’s interested in me, and it’s not that it’s getting annoying, but I’m getting tired of hearing it because both of them know I’m with Ryan, and yet it’s like they’re trying to force this love triangle on me. I don’t want that. I’m not that type of girl.”

“And does Robbie know your upset?”

“No.”

“Have you thought about telling him? If he’s really that good of a friend, he’ll stop bothering you about it,” he said.

“I know, but I think it’s more of a warning than anything. I’m pretty sure he’s just telling me so I’m aware that there’s another guy in the picture, and that it could cause problems if I don’t deal with it as soon as possible,” I said. “But on the other hand, why should I have to deal with it? I never asked for him to like me, nor did I make any advances or hint that I would be interested. At least none that I’m aware of. I mean, we’ve gone out together a couple of times but I’ve made it clear that they weren’t dates, and I’m happily involved with Ryan.”

Blade nodded his head. “Okay. So what’s the problem then?”

“Why do I feel guilty?”

He looked at me seriously now. “Do you like Dylan, Isabelle?”

I shook my head. “No, of course not. But I always get this sick feeling in my stomach whenever I’m with him instead of Ryan, like I have something to feel bad about, which I don’t, so I don’t understand. I don’t know, is that weird? Am I a bad person?”

“No, you’re not a bad person. Sometimes what happens is that you’ll be attracted to someone while you’re already dating someone else. That’s natural. But that doesn’t mean you like them. And it can lead to guilt because you’re looking at someone other than the person you’re with in a . . . sexual way,” he said, and I felt his hand tense in mine.

My head whipped in his direction. “I’m not thinking about him sexually, Blade.”

“Okay, well I’m just saying.”

“Have you ever been in that situation?”

He looked very uncomfortable now. “Once or twice.”

My eyes went wide. “With Christabelle?”

“Before Christabelle. You know Marcy?”

I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. “You were attracted to Marcy? God, Blade. That’s horrible! Does Chris know?”

“Of course not. She’d kill me, especially now, with the baby on the way. She’d misinterpret it or think I was saying I’m attracted to her now, which I’m not. I only have eyes for Chris,” he said.

I scoffed. “Yeah, wandering eyes.”

He frowned. “Can we not talk about me please? We’re trying to figure out your problems. Stop changing the subject.”

“Okay.”

“Look, basically all it boils down to is who you like the most, if you think Dylan could be a problem in your relationship with Ryan, if you’d allow him to come between you two, and how you would handle it,” he said. “If you don’t like him that way, it won’t be a problem. But if you do—”

“I don’t.”

He held up a hand and shook his head. “If you do, then you need to sort out who you would rather be with because one way or another, Ryan will find out, and you can only imagine how hurt he’ll be,” he said. “And I know you don’t want that to happen.”

I pushed a hand through my hair roughly and groaned. “It’s not that I’m having trouble deciding who I want to be with. I just don’t know how to deal with Dylan if he does like me. He’s a great guy but I only see him as a friend. I don’t want anything more, but I don’t know how to turn him down without hurting him.”

“Well, like you said, you don’t even know if he likes you yet. It’s just based off what Robbie and whoever else tells you they see. You have to either ask him straight up or wait for him to admit it to you, and then just tell him ‘I really value our friendship, and I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I have a boyfriend, and I’m in a committed relationship. You’re a really good friend of mine and right now, that’s all I’m looking for’,” he said. “You’re good with words. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and nodded. I knew Blade was right about everything he had said, but that didn’t stop me from being worried about having to deal with the conflict of two boys fighting over me. I had never been placed in that situation before, nor was I good at resolving disagreements, unless it was between myself and someone else.

Blade dipped his head down into my vision and lifted a brow expertly. “Is there anything else?”

“Mom,” I said and he nodded his head knowingly.

“Ah yes, mother.” He smiled. “Honestly, Iz, it’s not mom’s relationship. She can bitch and complain about it all she wants but that doesn’t mean she’ll get her way. It only comes down to one main thing, and that’s how you feel for Ryan. Who the hell cares what anyone else thinks? Just do whatever makes you happy.”

I smiled and gave a tug on his hand so he stopped walking, then I leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, you pain. Try to actually listen to me this time,” he joked, and bent down for me to hop onto his back.

It really didn’t matter how much I liked Ryan, or how much Dylan may have liked me. At the end of the day, no one was better than my brother.