Salem Falls

Evelyn Connors sat behind the register at Main Street Antique, her deep indigo eyes scanning the pages of what appeared to be a rather beaten copy of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. Anyone who frequented the shop would see her and shake their head with a little laugh, teasing her about her dedication to that silly book.

What they didn’t know was Evelyn wasn’t reading Les Mis at all. In reality, she’d discovered that the enormous paper sheath of one of her favorite novels worked as a fantastic disguise. In reality, she was reading a much, much different book.

“Animalis amicis,” she murmured to herself, tracing her finger along the page of her spell book. “A spell to communicate with animals. Specify carefully which animal you’d like to call, full list on page 684. That can’t be too hard, right?”

At that moment, a small spider scuttled up the edge of the register, pausing momentarily on the antique keys. Evelyn narrowed her eyes at the creature, a little leap of excitement coming to her heart. She steadied her nerves, inhaling carefully and concentrating as hard as she could.

“Animalis amicos, venire aranea,” she stated forcefully into the air of the empty shop, praying over and over that something would happen. But after a moment, the spider scuttled away without uttering a word in her direction. Her heart dropped into her gut, all the hope she’d put into the spell quickly dissipating.

“Verto pagina,” she muttered with a sigh. The page jumped to life, flipping over as though she’d turned it with her own hand. It was one of the only spells she could manage with her heartbreakingly small capacity for magic. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, closing her eyes to block out everything else. She’d been at this for hours – hell, for years – to no avail.

The bell above the door chimed and Evelyn rushed to close the book and tuck it below the register desk. “Hello!” she greeted, opening her eyes and throwing a sparkling smile on her full lips. It was show time.

But when her eyes met the door, it was falling shut with no one in sight. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously, leaving the desk to search the shop for the ghostly patron. Combing the rows of beautiful antiques carefully collected over the years, she heard a voice humming a tune from the back corner. Her pace picked up, her ballet slipper clad feet tapping lightly against the hardwood, excited to get a chance to spy on a human.

She’d always been fascinated by humans, which was partially why she chose to work among them, and this one was no different. Or so she thought at first. But when the figure turned away from the wall of porcelain treasures, she caught the first glimpse of his face and her breath caught in her lungs. Evelyn had never seen him before.

He stood laxly, holding a strange figurine of a Colonial man with a complacent smile on his lips, soft blue eyes shining in the late afternoon sun. The messy brown peaks of his hair matched his relaxed posture. Evelyn pressed her hand to her lips, poking her head more around the corner to get a better peek at him. She barely caught a glimpse of a bold striped shirt beneath his denim jacket before he turned to tuck the figurine back on the shelf.

And in a mess of fumbling hands and shattering clay, the figurine fell from the shelf and shattered on the ground. “Shit,” a low, panicked voice sounded from stranger. She caught another glimpse of his face, flushed red, as he glanced around and debated between picking up the pieces and running for the door. Evelyn giggled behind her hand. Humans could be so funny sometimes.

“Hey,” she finally greeted in her softest, most friendly voice. She was always very careful with her interactions with the non-magical. “You break it you buy it, you know.”

The boy snapped around to face her, a look of complete surprise on his face. It quickly melted into a suave grin, the corner of his mouth turned up crookedly in an attempt to win her over. “Oh, come on,” he hummed in a convincing tone. “Don’t you know an accident when you see one?”

She looked him up and down, noticing a school ID sticking out of his front pocket for the high school down the road. “Where are you supposed to be?” she countered, not willing to let him off so easily. “It’s one o’clock on a Wednesday.”

The boy rolled his eyes, his lips parting into a fuller, more brilliant smile. “What are you going to do, call the principal?” he prodded teasingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Come on, it was an accident. Let a man free.”

She gave him a pointed look, mustering all the courage in her heart. She’d never been very good at standing up for herself outside her little life in the Lunar Circle, especially in the human world. Over the years, she’d cultivated a reputation for being Evelyn Connors, daughter of ‘herbologist’ Ella Connors, quiet, sweet, and perhaps a little odd. Asserting herself was next to impossible when she worked so hard to upkeep that image to stay under the radar.

“There’s a broom and dustpan behind the desk. You can clean up while I think about it.”

The handsome boy sighed, shrugging his shoulders in apathetic agreement. “I s’pose that’s fair,” he muttered, going over to grab the tools to clean up the mess he made. Evelyn watched with painfully interested eyes as he swiped the floor a few times, collecting the fragments in the pan. Though she’d grown used to the analog way humans had of doing things, it still amazed her that he couldn’t simply say a spell to seamlessly repair the figurine. Not that she probably could, either.

“There, all clean,” he stated, handing her the dustpan filled with broken shards. Their eyes connected for a moment, the shades of blue given to each mixing in a moment that Evelyn couldn’t quite place, her breath again catching in her chest. The boy’s smile broke out again, a friendly smile like he’d known her all along.

“What’s your name?” Evelyn asked gently, motioning for him to follow her back to the desk. He trailed after her like a wake, unable to resist touching everything they passed.

“Louis,” he answered, running his fingers along the edge of the counter that Evelyn set the pieces on top of. “Louis Tomlinson.”

“Evelyn Connors,” she responded, extending her hand to his. His grip was firm, fingertips rough like they spent hours on end pressed to guitar strings. “Why have I never seen you around, Louis Tomlinson?”

“I just moved here a few weeks ago,” he explained, his expression turning a darkened, sour shade. “From California.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows, tucking a stray strand of curly blonde hair behind her ear. Few people ever moved to little Salem Falls, especially not from glamorous places like California. “It must not be going well for you to be skipping school already,” she observed.

Louis scoffed, again running his hand through his hair like a nervous tick. “I lived in the same town for eighteen years, and when I’m a senior in high school my dad decides to take a job in this prison of a town,” he muttered lowly, the bitterness apparent in his voice. “It isn’t going well.”

Evelyn’s heart softened, drawn to Louis’s tough exterior. Growing up in the coven of Lunar Circle, especially as the daughter of the pure-hearted leaders, she was always taught to see the best in people. And she could see in his eyes that there was so much good in him through his rough, sarcastic exterior.

“Have you made many friends here yet?” she asked gingerly.

Louis shrugged. “I went out on a couple of dates with this girl, Maggie,” he casually explained. “Sherriff’s daughter. Not really my type. No one really wants to be your friend after you manage to get the town princess on your bad side.”

“Maggie Snow is a nice girl,” Evelyn stated defensively. “I went to high school with her before I graduated in May,” “What did you do to manage to mess it up?”

Louis shot her a warning look, urging her not to press any further. It clearly was a topic he didn’t want to pursue.

“I tell you what, Louis,” she hummed softly. “I’ll be your first friend here.”

“Oh, you mean it?” he replied sarcastically, batting his lashes at her. It was clear that Louis was not someone who took pity well. He seemed to be the type to act as mysterious as possible.

“And since we are friends, I’ll let you off,” she pressed, a little annoyed that he would try to brush her off so easily when she clearly wanted to help him. “Even though that figurine probably retailed for like a hundred and fifty dollars.”

Louis choked a little on those words, glancing up at her with embarrassed eyes. “Thanks.”

“I’ll be a good person to have around, trust me,” she insisted sweetly, going around to the back of the counter to dig around for something to write on. “My family has lived here ever since it was founded. I know everyone and everything about this town. You’ll feel at home in no time.”

She pulled a piece of paper from underneath the desk, scribbling her phone number across the center in her neat, scrawling handwriting. “Call me whenever. I usually am off work at four.”

He plucked it from the counter, his clear eyes scanning the page before giving her a beaming smile. “Sure thing, beautiful,” he agreed, causing Evelyn to blush. “I’ll catch you later. I probably owe you dinner or something for this, yeah?”

“Or something,” she concurred softly, sitting down on the stool behind the desk. “Now get out of here before I get in trouble for letting you off the hook.” With a wink, Louis slipped the paper between his thin, pink lips and stalked out the door. Just as he left, a familiar face entered, carrying a brown paper bag. Louis exchanged a look with the stocky blonde before glancing back over his shoulder at Evelyn with a smile and disappearing.

“Hey Ni,” Evelyn greeted her best friend, Niall Horan. His visits to her work were always her favorite part of her usually quiet days, an opportunity to banter and practice her magic with the boy who had become like her brother. “You’re running a little late this afternoon. Better have brought something good.”

“Sorry, got caught up with this rabbit in a trap,” he mumbled awkwardly through a blush, and immediately Evelyn could tell there was more to the story he wasn’t telling her. There was a bit of singed edges to his pale blonde hair and he was wearing a different shirt than she’d seen him in that morning – in fact, it was a shirt she’d never seen before.

“Sushi’s okay?” he asked in an effort to change the subject.

“Duh.”

“Who was that?” Niall asked, setting the paper bag down on the table. “Never seen him before.”

“Louis Tomlinson,” she muttered. “Just moved here from California.”

Niall harrumphed in pity. “That must be quite a shock.”

He unpacked the bag with the utterance of some spells, the trays of sushi rolls aligning themselves on the counter and a stool rolling up for him to perch on across from her. He launched into a collection of theories he and Liam cultivated on the death of Yaser Malik, and while Evelyn tried her best to pay attention, her thoughts were with Louis Tomlinson. Something about the boy had struck her, making her unable to think about anything but his sad eyes and steely exterior.

“Can you do something to fix this?” she asked, gesturing to the pile of shattered porcelain. “Louis managed to break it and I’m afraid to try. His head will probably end up his ass with my luck.”

Niall exuded a laugh before muttering the words “Murrina instaurabo,” and the pair watched as the pieces magically mended themselves back together. And when she placed the figure back on the shelf, she couldn’t help but wish she’d see Louis Tomlinson again soon. She’d carefully watch the door for him to return.