When Neeta raised her right hand, her left still clutched around the stem of her martini glass, the light came. It came bright and fierce. From her left hand, the blue curled around the clear stem of the glass like flame licking its way around a log in a bonfire. At the same time, energy pulsed from her right hand with such force that it blew out the florescent light directly over our heads. The second the light blew, the martini glass shattered in a brilliant explosion of luminescence and deadly shard.
There were screams as Ash slid under the table. She tried pulling me down with her, but I sat still as a statue, Billie’s claw-like nails tearing into my thigh. I didn’t even move her hand, just covered it with my own. The pain kept me grounded in the moment.
The three bikers stood on the other end of the bar, behind the pool table, eyes wide and hairy mouths slack. They stared right at Neeta.
Everyone was still for a beat. Then the biker who complained about the music, still staring at Neeta, reached out a hand, pulling on the leather sleeve of his friend. “She’s one of those witches.”
Until that moment, I’d felt as if I was in some sort of mental fog, the kind you feel after a traumatic brain injury, the kind that messes with your mental processing. But when the man uttered that word, my right hand shot out, across Billie, grabbing Neeta’s still glowing hand now bleeding from the broken glass. My fingers slipped through hers, blood making it hard to grip her flesh.
Neeta stared at the men, fire behind her gaze.
Ash cowered under the table at my feet as Billie never once released her unrelenting grip on my leg.
“We have to go. Now,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Neeta.” I tried shaking her, to make her look at me, to break the spell.
It was then I heard Joey laugh. While I was focused on everyone else, he had moved from behind the bar and was inches from our table. “Witches. Only locals would say something like that. I have problems with these lights all the time. Shoot, every building in the Quarter has this happen from time to time.”
He stretched out a hand to Neeta. “The only important thing is that no one was seriously hurt. Here, Neeta.” Joey handed her a clean towel he had dangling over his shoulder. “For your hand.”
The bikers edged toward the door. They weren’t buying it. The first thing they would do after bolting from the bar would be to run straight to the authorities.
“Billie.” There was a forcefulness to Joey’s voice that I immediately respected. “Miranda is right. You four need to go.”
Letting go of Neeta’s blood-soaked hand, I pushed Billie, and Neeta, toward Joey with the other. “Go,” I yelled in Billie’s ear, and that got her moving.
Neeta slid out of the booth and onto the floor. Joey helped Billie off the seat. He held onto her while I got Neeta up and dragged Ash from under the table, both of my hands now slick with Neeta’s blood. I didn’t even take the time to wipe them off.
Neeta had come to her senses and was wrapping her hand with the towel.
With my arm around Ash’s waist, I headed toward the door.
“Not that way,” Joey said from behind me. “You won’t make it far.”
It felt like a stone had fallen to the bottom of my stomach.
“Out the back.”
I turned around, Ash breathing in my ear like she had just run a marathon.
“Those guys aren’t regulars,” Joey said as he walked ahead, Billie wrapped around him like Ash was wrapped around me. “They won’t be able to identify you, and they won’t be able to say for sure that I know you all, which of course, I’ll deny. Never seen you before in my life. Another bonus is that we don’t have security cameras in here. Well, we do, but they haven’t recorded in a decade. How far is your car?”
“Only two blocks,” Neeta said behind me. “We’ll make it.”
Would we? I didn’t want to voice this out loud, but I was skeptical.
Joey seemed to read my mind because when we got to the back door, he draped a jacket around Neeta’s shoulders. Then he grabbed a baseball cap off a hook and put it on Billie’s bright blonde head. “Don’t go together. Go two at a time, since they’ll be looking for four women. Make sure you smile and appear as normal as possible.”
I wasn’t sure smiling would help, but I understood what Joey was trying to convey. “Billie, you and Neeta go. Ash and I will be two minutes behind you.”
Billie, bolstered by Joey’s confidence, nodded. She reached up on her tip toes, kissed Joey once on the lips, then took Neeta’s uninjured hand. They disappeared into the back alley.
I glanced up at Joey. “Thank you for helping us. I can’t tell you what it means.” It was true, I couldn’t. From what the news had made me believe, everyone was to be feared. Especially anyone male.
“I don’t buy into any of this propaganda bullshit. The women who have developed these powers, they’re not an enemy. I may not know any of you that well, but I know that.”
I looked Joey straight in the eyes, nodded, and left the Trumpet for the uncertainty of the streets, my arm a vise around Ash’s waist.
Ash had recovered herself by the time the car was in sight. She no longer held onto me, although she was close by my side, her head on a swivel. While I tried keeping my gaze front and center, Ash glanced every which way her neck would allow. She hadn’t spoken once. I could see both of my friends inside the car, Billie in the driver’s seat, Neeta in the passenger seat.
“I’m so sorry,” I said under my breath, steps away from our destination.
“For what? Nothing that happened is your fault, Miranda. We just have to make sure no one finds out about Neeta.” She took my hand.
She had no idea that Neeta wasn’t alone in this.
“It’s not just Neeta,” I blurted. “It’s me, too.” It wasn’t my job to out Billie, but Ash had every right to know what I was, every right to know what she may potentially be getting herself into.
I expected the hand to drop. She held firm.
“I thought there was something extra special about you.” She opened the back door and pulled me into the backseat.
****
Ash had fallen asleep with her head in my lap.
Neeta refused to go to the hospital for stitches. “It looks worse than it is,” was all she said about her cut up hand.
Billie drove around New Orleans for over an hour before dropping off Ash and heading back to the motel. We had to be sure no one would follow us.
When Billie’s headlights flooded the deserted parking lot of the Fleur, I felt relief. Momentary relief.
“Do you think we’re still safe here?” I asked the back of their heads.
Neeta shrugged. She turned her head, her face drawn from exhaustion and pain. “We’re as safe here as we are anywhere else. It seems we’ve been lucky, so far.”
I didn’t like those words, so far.
****
Today was Sunday and one of my days off. I was never more thankful for a full day of rest. After Billie saw me safely to my room, she joined Neeta in hers. Billie, even though talking to Dave, still felt a little afraid that he had really seen the glow from her hand that night.
Ash called at noon to tell me she was picking me up that evening to take me somewhere special. Where this special place was, I had no idea. I hoped it wasn’t a local jail cell.
“Are you sure you want to hang out with me? I’m not exactly normal,” I said over the phone.
“Who wants normal? You’re not normal and that’s one of the best things about you.”
“You’re not afraid?”
“Not of you.”
****
I waited outside in my little white sundress, heat still emanating from the cement although the sun was waning, the usual scents of oil and pavement permeating the air. There were three cars in the lot besides ours. Trapper had seen an uptick in summer business. I would have preferred to have the place to ourselves.
Something came alive in me when Ash pulled up in a maroon Ford so old the model of the four-door car was a mystery. She hopped out of the car, jogged up to me for a kiss, and then held open the passenger door. She smelled so good, woodsy and clean. All I could think of was how I wanted to bury my face in her neck. She wore nicely fitted black jeans, her button-down white shirt, tucked all the way in, showing off a shapely rear end which was usually hidden behind loose, saggy denim.
Waiting for me on the seat of the car was a bouquet of sunflowers. It was massive. I looked back at Ash with an expression of surprise. “I love sunflowers,” I gasped, tucking my purse under my arm so I could scoop up the blooms in both hands. I clutched them to my chest, a few sun-yellow petals escaping and falling into my cleavage. They smelled like a summer day. I could almost hear the bees buzzing around them.
I took my seat, the flowers in my lap, then clicked in my seat belt as Ash shut the door.
When she was in her seat, the steering wheel in both hands, she tossed her head back and said, “I hope you like what I packed. I may or may not have wanted to show off a bit. There’s nothing I love more than cooking for someone I care for.”
Behind us, sitting on the bench seat in back, was a large picnic basket sitting on top of an old russet, red blanket.
“We’re having a picnic?” It was the perfect night for a meal outdoors. The temperature was cooling off as the sun was sliding into bed for the night, and there would be the soft, evening breeze I had come to love so much.
“We are, and,” she emphasized, “I made everything.”
“Should I grab my guitar?”
“Definitely.”
When we arrived at our destination, I thought I had walked into a fairytale.
Ash parked the car and we strolled, her carrying the basket, with the blanket slung over one arm, me with my guitar gripped in both hands, into the most beautiful park I had ever seen.
“I’ve never been anywhere like this. How did I not know about this place?” I took it all in as we walked. The grass under our feet was greener than a field of emeralds.
“Well, there is a lot more to New Orleans besides Ruby’s and the Trumpet,” Ash said jokingly. The joke landed a little flat. After all, the Trumpet was now dead to us.
The farther we strolled inside the more the landscape unfolded. We walked along a large stream, the water clear as it bubbled over rocks, then crossed over a shady stone bridge to a copse of trees. They were unlike anything I had ever seen. I inhaled the deep, earthy scent of moss and grass. This was such a welcome departure from the scents of the Fleur with its oily parking lot and musty, old rooms.
“What kind of trees are these and can we please sit under one?” I knew the trees were a type of oak, there were lots of those in New Orleans, but these were different. These oak trees were not only enormous—their limbs bent and dipped so low to the ground, you could sit or climb to your hearts content. I imagined pouncing from limb to limb like a cat, then stretching out to read the afternoon away.
“Those are Live Oaks. Let’s sit by that one.” Ash pointed to the nearest massive tree, its limbs splayed out like arms almost all the way to the ground.
The twilight was magical as the last rays of the sun filtered through the branches and leaves over our heads surrounding us with dim, dancing light. I felt something primal in my soul, something that called out to me to pull off my dress and dance like a wild spirit, my eyes closed, my face toward the sky.
Ash pulled the blanket from her arm, tossing it toward me and snapping me back to reality. We spread it out, then Ash went to work. She wouldn’t let me lift a finger, so while she set out her picnic things, I sat on a branch, swinging my legs underneath me.
When she had everything arranged just so, she handed me a freshly poured cup of lemonade and a plate filled with food. The branch was thick enough I could set down my cup while I ate. “This looks incredible. I’ve never seen such a fancy sandwich.”
“That is brie, tomato, and arugula with a little curry chickpea salad on the side,” she said as she joined me on the branch.
My mouth watered in anticipation. The first bite was a bit of crunchy heaven. I had no idea what curry was, but after one bite I decided I wanted to eat it every day for the rest of my life.
We sat and ate for a few delicious minutes. I knew the silence couldn’t last for long, and when the inevitable question came, I was ready.
Ash took a quick look around. “Can you talk about it or would you rather not?”
I shrugged, swallowing the last bit of my salad. “I can talk about it.”
Ash looked sheepish. She nibbled on her lip as she thought of her first question. “When did it start?”
Talking this out would be good for me. If only I hadn’t been tired of the subject, tired of acknowledging the madness. “Before I came here. It’s the whole reason I left home in the first place.”
“Why did you have to leave? Did your parents find out?”
“I felt like they were growing suspicious, though I can’t really explain why. I was so scared, so alone. I just didn’t know what to do, so I ran.” I gazed off into the distance, pain that I’d kept suppressing stabbing at my chest like an actual knife.
“And they still don’t know where you are?”
I shook my head. I tried not to miss them. I tried to say the words without feeling them. “No one from home does.”
“What does it feel like?”
This was a million-dollar question. To answer was impossible. How to describe the inner turmoil of those first few days, the warmth, the burning, the feeling of not having control over your own body. It was a lot to explain and would be even a lot for Ash to digest. “I don’t really know how to explain it, because I’m still learning about it. I don’t even know enough to know what it is.”
She nodded. “I get it. At least as much as I can. And I’m here for you, Miranda. I hope you know that you can trust me with this.”
“Thank you. Between you, Neeta, and Billie, I feel like I’ve formed my own special club. Even Joey was great last night. It feels amazing to be around people I don’t have to fear.”
Her smile was heaven.
****
The air around us was so clean and fresh, I wanted to bottle it and take it back to the Fleur with me.
When I couldn’t take another bite, Ash took our plates and piled everything back into the basket.
“That was so good. I think a plain grilled cheese is the most adventurous sandwich I’ve ever had.”
“Stick with me and you’ll always eat well.” She dropped a kiss on my lips as she re-joined me.
The tree seemed to spin underneath me. I could have sworn the branch buckled but realized it was just my body twitching. “I never want to leave this tree. Let’s build a home around it.”
Ash laughed, pulling my hand into her lap. “I’m sure the city won’t mind. This branch is so thick, we could probably make a pretty comfortable bed out of it. I could lay here, with you alongside me, here.” Ash gestured where our bodies would go with her free hand.
“You can cook, and I’ll do the cleaning.” I squeezed her hand tighter, turning my head to meet her eyes. We just sat there, gazing at each other. There was never a time when I wouldn’t have felt weird staring at someone without talking, but I didn’t feel it now. Butterflies of excitement fluttered around my belly. My face warmed up with anticipation, not embarrassment or fear.
“How about a song?” Ash asked.
I released her hand, sliding off the branch. The blanket was soft underneath me as I sat cross legged, pulling the guitar case into my lap. “This is one of my favorite songs by Tori Amos. It’s best accompanied by a piano, but I think I can manage. It’s called “Winter.””
The song flowed out of me. The magic of our surroundings, the happiness I felt when Ash was near, everything was perfect. She sat above me, perched on our branch, while I sat at her feet. I felt like a supplicant, but instead of religious fervor, what coursed through me was a need to feel her against me.
When the last note had been sung, I set the guitar aside and lifted my gaze to meet Ash’s.
Her eyes were damp. She moved off the branch in one smooth motion. Our lips met first, then our bodies as she leaned into me, pushing me onto my back.
I had a moment of panic as I thought about the people around us and what they would think. Once I pushed that aside, I wondered how practical it would be to live our lives horizontally. Kissing Ash felt like everything would be okay. It was a Sunday morning curled up on the couch with a book. A naughty book—the kind that makes you blush.
The sun was almost set, and soon it would be too dark to stay in the park. I had two options. One—Ash could either drop me back at the Fleur like she always did. Or Two—I could invite her in. I already knew what I would do.
****
Back at the hotel, I was so nervous I could throw up. The calm that came over me in the park was long gone. I was about to be alone with Ash for the first time. Like, really alone, on a bed, just her and I.
I had asked Ash if she wanted to hang out in my room and watch some TV when we got back. At the time, it felt very natural. Now, the reality of the situation hit me in the face. This would be the first time we were really, truly alone in a private space that wasn’t a car.
We would make out. That’s what a new couple did when they had the opportunity of being alone. I loved kissing Ash. Her lips were soft, her hands firm and capable. What scared me was what would happen next. It scared me when I went all the way with Noah, too. The first time doing anything can be terrifying because you don’t know what to expect. Ash knew what to do, and I didn’t. Once again, I found myself the virgin, having to figure it out as we went.
I tried reminding myself I knew the mechanics, just like my first and only time with Noah. Ash would give me some grace. No one expected a virgin to make love like a porn star.
Ash pulled into the spot right in front of Billie’s door. I half expected Billie and Neeta to pop out like they were a couple of jack-in-the-boxes. The intrusion wouldn’t be wholly unwelcome. At least it would give me a few more minutes to compose myself. I looked over at Ash, who pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Ready to see my luxurious room?” I said jokingly.
“Can’t wait.” She turned toward me, a gleam in her eye that I’d only seen a time or two before.
A knock on the window scared me so bad I yelped.
“Get out, you two. No sex in the car. There’s a perfectly good bed right inside there.” Billie’s face pressed up against the window next to me. Her mouth was open in a silent laugh as she pointed toward my room. She looked like a different woman than the one who left me in my room only the night before.
“Move,” I said, my hand on the door lever.
She jumped back, dancing to a song only she could hear. Gravel crunched behind the car, and I realized Neeta was also dancing to her own melody, an open bottle of beer in her good hand, the other one bound tightly in white gauze. My two jack-in-the-boxes, here to relieve some of the tension, just as I’d hoped, and they were trashed. I couldn’t blame them.
“Where did you two come from? You’re like the phantoms of the Fleur, always popping up even when you’re not wanted.” I shooed Billie away so I could get out of the car. “Is this a safe thing we’re doing out here?”
“What’s safe anymore?” Neeta practically slurred her words.
Billie hopped up and down, her hands in front of her smile. “Neeta! Go grab your old boom box and let’s have a parking lot dance party.”
“Yes.” Neeta scooted toward number 7, her favorite kimono fanning out in dramatic fashion.
I appreciated their ability to take the focus off me and didn’t want to ruin their fun, but I wasn’t really interested in dancing in the empty lot of the Fleur-de-lis. One look at Ash told me she was of the same mind. Just because I wanted a few extra minutes didn’t mean I had changed my mind completely.
“I think Ash and I are going to watch some TV. You two have fun, and don’t be too loud. Trapper is sure to shut down your party as soon as you press play on the stereo. And, you know, we want to keep a somewhat low profile.”
Billie stopped bouncing long enough to roll her eyes at me. “Okay, Mom. You have fun, too.” She winked, and I could feel the tell-tale heat rise from my chest.
A splotchy bosom was not sexy. I rubbed at it with my hand as if that would help instead of making it worse. I couldn’t think of anything else to say but wished I had some smart retort. I smiled awkwardly and turned to step up onto the walk.
Ash was already waiting for me at the door. “Let’s wait for Neeta to get out here so she isn’t alone. It’s getting late.”
Ash was so thoughtful. She had proven more than once how kind she was by the way she treated Billie, whom she knew less than she knew me. I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open but waited with Ash under the bright light over the door until Neeta was walking back out with her ancient looking boom box under her bad arm, her beer still held in the other hand.
Ash chuckled. “Wow, Neeta. How old is that thing? And it still works?”
Neeta moved to the side to show the contraption off. “Ladies, you are looking at the pride and joy of my middle school years. In pristine condition. Billie, if you would please assist.”
Billie took the stereo from Neeta, setting it gently on the ground, then switched it on. An old-school rap song I remembered from years ago blared through the speakers.
Neeta turned down the volume.
I laughed as I pulled Ash inside. “Come on. I can’t see this lasting long before Trapper comes out and puts a stop to it.”
We shut the door on the impromptu parking lot party for two. An immediate sense of being closed in washed over me. What did I want—to be outside or in? “I’m just going to wash my face.” I don’t know why I said that. I had no intention of washing my face, but I sprinted for the bathroom anyway, to have a moment to myself.
The bed springs creaked as Ash sat on one of the beds. Then, they creaked again as she got up. “How do you turn on this antique?” I heard her fiddling with the dials of the television, then white noise as she managed to get it on.
The bathroom was the calm moment of Zen I needed to order my thoughts. Being alone with her in my room just upped the game from fun and innocent kissing to something that would be decidedly more mature. What if I hurt her? What if I lost control during an intimate moment? I would never forgive myself.
Ash didn’t seem afraid.
I dotted on some fresh perfume and brushed my teeth. For some reason this made me feel more prepared. I stared in the mirror. The girl who stared back didn’t look like much of a girl, anymore. In fact, I barely recognized myself. Is this who I really was? Someone who lived on her own, took care of herself, and dated whoever she wanted? I was nervous, but was it more than that? I felt like I was crossing a threshold into adulthood, into decision making on a grander and grander scale.
My hesitance would make it seem like I was avoiding her, so I inhaled a deep breath and opened the door.
Ash was sitting at the foot of the bed, squinting at the small screen. She was watching a sitcom I had never seen, ankle propped on her knee as she leaned back on her hands. How could she be so casual? I envied her cool.
“Not a lot of options,” I said as I stood by the bathroom door.
She shrugged, sliding her gaze to where I stood. “I’d rather talk anyway.”
I looked at Ash.
As she sat, she leaned forward, the top of her white shirt dipping down a bit, exposing a perfect clavicle. I wanted to touch it, run my fingers across it. Or lick it. My breath came a little faster, and my knees nearly buckled. The nerves were still there, but something else—the desire I felt when she was near—swept over me.
Ash stood up. “You okay?”
“More than okay,” I said as I closed the distance between us.
Ash slid her hand around the back of my neck.
I pressed my body into hers, my mouth against hers. All the uncertainty, all the nervousness, left me the second our mouths touched. This was not the first time. Kissing Ash felt better than anything else in the world. This was how it always seemed to work. I was nervous and unsure until I just wasn’t anymore, and when the nerves left me, they left in a big way.
I pulled back.
Ash was smirking, her hands on my waist. “Are you ready for more, Miranda? Because it’s totally cool if you’re not.”
I nodded, biting my bottom lip as I did. “So ready.”
****
We laid in each other’s arms. We were breathing so raggedly I thought one of us may have a heart attack right there on the bed. Never in my life had I been so thirsty.
“Water,” I said, my voice gravelly.
Ash laughed, extricating her limbs from mine. “Here.” She reached for the bottle of water on the bedside table and passed it to me.
I wanted to finish it off but forced myself to stop halfway and hand the bottle to Ash.
She took a couple drinks then leaned back and kissed me. “I can’t stay. God, I wish I could, but my curfew is in twenty minutes. I’m already going to be late, but it was so worth it.”
“And here I was hoping I could trace your tattoos with my tongue.”
“Don’t torture me.” She kissed me, slower this time until I started feeling aroused again and pushed her away.
“You better stop that then.”
Ash nipped at my nose. “You can lick my tats another time. I won’t stop you.” She reached for her clothes, looking back at me as she did so. “I’ve never found it quite so hard to leave someone before.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve started developing this phantom ache that blooms right around here” —I pressed my hand to my chest— “whenever you walk away.” It was true. I was beginning to miss her more and more when she wasn’t around, and I dreaded the moment she left me.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to be a couple of years older? Then we won’t have to worry about that anymore. Well, I won’t—curfew and all,” she said as she slipped on her jeans.
There was nothing to do but smile as I wound the sheet around my body so I could walk her the ten feet to the door.
Ash zipped her jeans and pulled her shirt on, buttoning it as she walked. I bent down to help her with her boots. I realized she still thought I was eighteen. This was another thing I would have to come clean about, but for tonight, I was tired.
When she was ready to go, I pulled the door open, careful to stay on the inside so no one could see me, although the lot was deserted. The dance party had ended as abruptly as predicted. Before I’d even left the bathroom, I heard a voice, presumably Trapper’s, and then silence as the stereo had been turned off. Billie and Neeta were probably fast asleep.
My stomach twisted and my thoughts must have registered on my face, because Ash asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I just realized Billie and Neeta were right there, and Trapper is two walls that way.” I pointed to the wall behind me and then the wall behind the bed.
Ash covered her laugh with her hand. “Yeah, we were both pretty loud, so I’m not sure there’s any hiding what happened in here tonight.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, covering them with one hand. “I’m never going to hear the end of it. Not from Billie, anyway.”
Ash let her laugh out. “I’m sure they’ll be cool. It’s not like this is a monastery.”
She was probably right. I couldn’t imagine Trapper saying a word. He’d be too mortified. Billie on the other hand would tease me for the rest of my life. Neeta may be a tad more stoic.
Ash pulled my hand from my face. “On a serious note, I have to bounce.” She leaned forward to kiss me. “I had an incredible time, Miranda, and I have to tell you something before I leave. I really feel like I could fall for you, like this could be real. I don’t want to pressure you into saying anything you’re not comfortable with yet, I just wanted you to know.”
I smiled through the pain in my chest. This was real—more real than anything.