Call Down the Moon
Angie Peterson breezes into our dorm room, wearing an amethyst amulet and an organic cotton peasant skirt. Her cell phone twinkles new age music from within the depths of an artistically decorated fabric tote.
She fishes for the device, glances at the caller I.D., and sighs. “Yes, Mom, I just got here so I hadn’t had a chance to call you yet... Don’t worry, the drive was fine. I didn’t have any trouble... Okay then, bye now. Love ya. Call ya later.” Angie snaps her phone shut. “Can you believe her?”
“I know. She’s been calling me every five minutes for the last half hour. Where were you, anyway? You’re late. We already ordered the pizza and everything.” A drying blue mud mask covers Chrissy’s face as she debates what color to paint her nails.
“There was a good song on the radio so I missed my turn.” Angie chooses a bottle of ruby-red nail polish and shakes it. “Use this one. It’s a good luck color.”
“You and your good luck.” Chrissy snorts. She grabs the bottle out of her sister’s hand.
“Believe what you will.” Angie plops down in our lounge chair. “Hello, Emma. How are you?”
“Good.” My smile is tight and short-lived. Except you’re going on a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever seen, and I’m trying really hard not to hate you because of it.
When Angie visits, the three of us usually hang out together the whole time. Neither Chrissy nor I have access to a car on campus, so having Angie drive us around is a sweet ticket to freedom.
Angie Peterson breezes into our dorm room, wearing an amethyst amulet and an organic cotton peasant skirt. Her cell phone twinkles new age music from within the depths of an artistically decorated fabric tote.
She fishes for the device, glances at the caller I.D., and sighs. “Yes, Mom, I just got here so I hadn’t had a chance to call you yet... Don’t worry, the drive was fine. I didn’t have any trouble... Okay then, bye now. Love ya. Call ya later.” Angie snaps her phone shut. “Can you believe her?”
“I know. She’s been calling me every five minutes for the last half hour. Where were you, anyway? You’re late. We already ordered the pizza and everything.” A drying blue mud mask covers Chrissy’s face as she debates what color to paint her nails.
“There was a good song on the radio so I missed my turn.” Angie chooses a bottle of ruby-red nail polish and shakes it. “Use this one. It’s a good luck color.”
“You and your good luck.” Chrissy snorts. She grabs the bottle out of her sister’s hand.
“Believe what you will.” Angie plops down in our lounge chair. “Hello, Emma. How are you?”
“Good.” My smile is tight and short-lived. Except you’re going on a date with the cutest guy I’ve ever seen, and I’m trying really hard not to hate you because of it.
When Angie visits, the three of us usually hang out together the whole time. Neither Chrissy nor I have access to a car on campus, so having Angie drive us around is a sweet ticket to freedom.
Angie is the type of person I secretly long to be. Last year, I went home with
Chrissy once for the weekend. I marveled at the hand-painted, glow-in-the-dark
constellations standing watch over Angie’s room. Colorful candles covered every
surface. A bright handmade quilt pieced together from the remains of their
grandma’s wardrobe covered her bed. On the bedside table rested a witchcraft
book Angie inherited from her grandmother, the Book of Shadows.
Chrissy said her sister was devastated when their grandma died, but Angie doesn’t seem to need anyone. She produces an endless river of her own healthy self-esteem. If I could generate even a trickle of what surges through Angie’s confident veins, I know I could be a much different sort of person.
Angie never wears any makeup and proudly says she doesn’t need to, which is actually true. She only paints her nails in hues to enhance her good fortune and happiness. For some reason, Chrissy never clamors that her younger sister needs a makeover, like she always does with me.
However different we might be, the three of us usually get along well enough whenever Angie visits. But this time around, I can’t help but feel cheated out of my rightful half of the double date tomorrow night. Since the party, I’ve run into Mike twice on campus. Both times we’ve walked together, since our next classes were in the same building, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. He’s probably just being nice.
Now, to make things even worse, Angie peppers me with questions about Mike. “What year is he? What’s his major? What’s he like? Is he as cute as Chrissy says he is?”
“Why are you asking me?” I help myself to another slice of the gooey pizza we had delivered to the dorm, since Chrissy can’t go anywhere after applying that mask.
Angie shrugs. “You just seem to know more about him than Chrissy does.”
“Oh. I see.” I nod and avert my eyes. That’s because I’m obsessed. I remember every single word he ever said to me, but I don’t want anyone to know that.
We spend the next day shopping at Oakwood Mall on the other side of town.
Chrissy examines the racks of flattering jeans and hip, trendy tops. “I need something great to wear on our date tonight.”
Chrissy said her sister was devastated when their grandma died, but Angie doesn’t seem to need anyone. She produces an endless river of her own healthy self-esteem. If I could generate even a trickle of what surges through Angie’s confident veins, I know I could be a much different sort of person.
Angie never wears any makeup and proudly says she doesn’t need to, which is actually true. She only paints her nails in hues to enhance her good fortune and happiness. For some reason, Chrissy never clamors that her younger sister needs a makeover, like she always does with me.
However different we might be, the three of us usually get along well enough whenever Angie visits. But this time around, I can’t help but feel cheated out of my rightful half of the double date tomorrow night. Since the party, I’ve run into Mike twice on campus. Both times we’ve walked together, since our next classes were in the same building, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. He’s probably just being nice.
Now, to make things even worse, Angie peppers me with questions about Mike. “What year is he? What’s his major? What’s he like? Is he as cute as Chrissy says he is?”
“Why are you asking me?” I help myself to another slice of the gooey pizza we had delivered to the dorm, since Chrissy can’t go anywhere after applying that mask.
Angie shrugs. “You just seem to know more about him than Chrissy does.”
“Oh. I see.” I nod and avert my eyes. That’s because I’m obsessed. I remember every single word he ever said to me, but I don’t want anyone to know that.
We spend the next day shopping at Oakwood Mall on the other side of town.
Chrissy examines the racks of flattering jeans and hip, trendy tops. “I need something great to wear on our date tonight.”
Angie tries on a series of organic, loosely flowing clothes.
I pick out a blue and green shirt and hold it up in front of me.
Chrissy frowns. “I don’t know what it is about you, Emma, but everything you wear looks exactly the same.”
I sigh and hang the shirt back on the rack.
Eventually, we return to the dorm, where Angie and Chrissy prepare for their double date. Angie’s done after a quick shower, but Chrissy takes even longer than usual, trying on outfit after outfit until she’s satisfied.
I roll my eyes. “I thought you were going to wear that dress you just bought today.”
“Now I’m not sure,” Chrissy whines.
Angie sits beside me. “Why don’t you come with us tonight? Won’t you be lonely here all by yourself?”
Chrissy throws her a horrified glare.
I hesitate a moment before answering. Could I really tag along? No, that would be stupid. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“Fifth wheel, actually,” Chrissy corrects.
Then they’re off to dinner at that fancy Fanny Hill restaurant, and I don’t know what to do with myself. The book I wanted to read last weekend no longer holds any appeal. I pace the halls, watch something lame in the TV lounge for awhile, and eventually clump back to our dorm room to mope. After cleaning off the clutter on top of both my dresser and my desk, I erase my whiteboard.
“Might as well put up a new quote,” I say out loud to no one and write out the words:
Then I drop down on my bed and close my eyes. My cruel imagination
bombards me with images of Mike laughing at something Angie said. Why
am I torturing myself? I roll over and will myself to fall asleep.
Hours later, I wake to the sound of a key in the door.
Angie whispers in the darkness. “Should we ask Emma if she wants to come along?”
“If you want to be the one responsible for waking her up,” Chrissy warns. “She isn’t always that pleasant to be around in the morning.”
I pick out a blue and green shirt and hold it up in front of me.
Chrissy frowns. “I don’t know what it is about you, Emma, but everything you wear looks exactly the same.”
I sigh and hang the shirt back on the rack.
Eventually, we return to the dorm, where Angie and Chrissy prepare for their double date. Angie’s done after a quick shower, but Chrissy takes even longer than usual, trying on outfit after outfit until she’s satisfied.
I roll my eyes. “I thought you were going to wear that dress you just bought today.”
“Now I’m not sure,” Chrissy whines.
Angie sits beside me. “Why don’t you come with us tonight? Won’t you be lonely here all by yourself?”
Chrissy throws her a horrified glare.
I hesitate a moment before answering. Could I really tag along? No, that would be stupid. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“Fifth wheel, actually,” Chrissy corrects.
Then they’re off to dinner at that fancy Fanny Hill restaurant, and I don’t know what to do with myself. The book I wanted to read last weekend no longer holds any appeal. I pace the halls, watch something lame in the TV lounge for awhile, and eventually clump back to our dorm room to mope. After cleaning off the clutter on top of both my dresser and my desk, I erase my whiteboard.
“Might as well put up a new quote,” I say out loud to no one and write out the words:
“The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence.”
―Marianne Moore
Hours later, I wake to the sound of a key in the door.
Angie whispers in the darkness. “Should we ask Emma if she wants to come along?”
“If you want to be the one responsible for waking her up,” Chrissy warns. “She isn’t always that pleasant to be around in the morning.”
“I could say the same about you.” I roll out of bed and rub my eyes.
“Where are we going? What are we doing?” Please let it be something with Mike.
“It’s a secret,” Angie teases, tossing me my jacket. “Come on, sleepyhead. We’ve got important business to attend to.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” I yawn, still half-asleep.
Chrissy chatters about the details of their date, but I don’t pay much attention. I watch Angie copy some words from her Book of Shadows onto a pink piece of paper. She always brings that mysterious book with her when she visits, along with a stack of colored candles and matches, and a framed picture of their grandma.
I know it’s wrong, but I wish I’d thought to read that book while Angie was out on my date. I’d love to know what’s in there.
Angie tucks the paper, some candles, and matches into a tote bag. “Now we’re ready to go!”
“Where?” I ask.
“Just follow me.” Angie smiles, her eyes sparkling. We head out into the crisp night air. Angie points to a large rock near the edge of the Putnam woods. “Let’s sit over there.”
“It feels strange to be outside this late at night,” I whisper as we cross the parking lot.
“Do you think the campus cops will drive by and stop us?” Chrissy asks.
“Why would they stop us?” Angie reasons. “It’s just a little love spell.”
“A love spell?” I turn to Chrissy. Does she really believe in this stuff?
“Yes, a love spell,” Angie confirms. “Kevin is definitely a keeper. He’s the best guy Chrissy has ever dated.”
“I agree,” Chrissy says as we near the rock.
“And you’ve dated a lot.” Angie smiles as she kneels down and spills her sack upon the ground.
“But you’ve only just met him.” I settle down on the grass.
“So what? I just know he’s the one,” my roommate declares.
Chrissy always decides after the first or second date if a guy is worth her time. How can she be so sure of herself and her first impressions?
“So, Angie, what did you think of Mike?” I ask. My heart thumps. Do I even want to know?
Chrissy glares at me, as if I’ve interrupted something important.
“He was nice,” Angie says noncommittally. She places one red and one white candle upon the large rock. She reverently strikes a match and lights them.
“It’s a secret,” Angie teases, tossing me my jacket. “Come on, sleepyhead. We’ve got important business to attend to.”
“Okay, I’m coming.” I yawn, still half-asleep.
Chrissy chatters about the details of their date, but I don’t pay much attention. I watch Angie copy some words from her Book of Shadows onto a pink piece of paper. She always brings that mysterious book with her when she visits, along with a stack of colored candles and matches, and a framed picture of their grandma.
I know it’s wrong, but I wish I’d thought to read that book while Angie was out on my date. I’d love to know what’s in there.
Angie tucks the paper, some candles, and matches into a tote bag. “Now we’re ready to go!”
“Where?” I ask.
“Just follow me.” Angie smiles, her eyes sparkling. We head out into the crisp night air. Angie points to a large rock near the edge of the Putnam woods. “Let’s sit over there.”
“It feels strange to be outside this late at night,” I whisper as we cross the parking lot.
“Do you think the campus cops will drive by and stop us?” Chrissy asks.
“Why would they stop us?” Angie reasons. “It’s just a little love spell.”
“A love spell?” I turn to Chrissy. Does she really believe in this stuff?
“Yes, a love spell,” Angie confirms. “Kevin is definitely a keeper. He’s the best guy Chrissy has ever dated.”
“I agree,” Chrissy says as we near the rock.
“And you’ve dated a lot.” Angie smiles as she kneels down and spills her sack upon the ground.
“But you’ve only just met him.” I settle down on the grass.
“So what? I just know he’s the one,” my roommate declares.
Chrissy always decides after the first or second date if a guy is worth her time. How can she be so sure of herself and her first impressions?
“So, Angie, what did you think of Mike?” I ask. My heart thumps. Do I even want to know?
Chrissy glares at me, as if I’ve interrupted something important.
“He was nice,” Angie says noncommittally. She places one red and one white candle upon the large rock. She reverently strikes a match and lights them.
I hate the word “nice”. It doesn’t mean anything at all. I stare into the
flames that seem to call down a moon so full one could drown in it.
A few crickets chirp, a lone frog bellows, and then silence. Even the dark trees hush their leaves to listen.
Angie hands the pink paper to her sister. “You have to read this carefully, or it won’t work. You have to believe in your heart every word is true.”
Chrissy clears her throat then reads:
After Chrissy finishes, Angie takes the paper. She ignites each bottom corner with a separate candle. We watch as flames crawl up the spell. Angie lets go at the last second, and a single weakly glowing ember floats down to the ground.
I stare at the red spark until it disappears. In the silence that follows, I wait for someone to play a haunting Beethoven melody to fill the empty air. Instead the wind begins to stir. Through the darkness, I hear whispers
calling my name. I glance over my shoulder to see if someone is really there. An image of the dead floating body flashes through my mind, but I dismiss it. I can’t think about that, or I’ll go crazy.
I point at the night sky. “Did you see the full moon tonight? It’s gigantic.” In fact, it seems bigger than I remember. Is that possible?
Angie nods. “It’s the perfect stage of the moon for this spell.”
She seems to really believe she’s done something with her little poem and ritual. Even Chrissy appears pleased, which surprises the heck out of me. Why am I the only one freaking out?
A few crickets chirp, a lone frog bellows, and then silence. Even the dark trees hush their leaves to listen.
Angie hands the pink paper to her sister. “You have to read this carefully, or it won’t work. You have to believe in your heart every word is true.”
Chrissy clears her throat then reads:
“Oh, Moon, upon me shine.
Steal his heart and make it mine.
Guide his eyes so he will see
The only one to love is me.
Seize his voice and make him say
That he will never go away.
Change his plans and claim his mind
Make both intertwine with mine.
Oh, Moon, oh, Stars, upon me glow,
And force his love for me to grow.”
After Chrissy finishes, Angie takes the paper. She ignites each bottom corner with a separate candle. We watch as flames crawl up the spell. Angie lets go at the last second, and a single weakly glowing ember floats down to the ground.
I stare at the red spark until it disappears. In the silence that follows, I wait for someone to play a haunting Beethoven melody to fill the empty air. Instead the wind begins to stir. Through the darkness, I hear whispers
calling my name. I glance over my shoulder to see if someone is really there. An image of the dead floating body flashes through my mind, but I dismiss it. I can’t think about that, or I’ll go crazy.
I point at the night sky. “Did you see the full moon tonight? It’s gigantic.” In fact, it seems bigger than I remember. Is that possible?
Angie nods. “It’s the perfect stage of the moon for this spell.”
She seems to really believe she’s done something with her little poem and ritual. Even Chrissy appears pleased, which surprises the heck out of me. Why am I the only one freaking out?
Later, Chrissy and I brush our teeth in the communal bathroom.
I clear my throat. “Do you really believe in Angie’s spells?” Even if she says yes, I still can’t tell her about the dead people I see.
“Normally, I would say no, but Kevin is awesome. I’ll take all the help I can get,” Chrissy says. “And Angie has always had such exceptional luck with guys. She must know what she’s doing.”
Oh, no. If Angie wants Mike, I’m doomed! I need to find out if she likes him, right now. I whip out my contacts, shove on glasses, skimp on flossing, and burst out of the bathroom, leaving Chrissy behind. I practically run Angie over as she exits our room with her reusable water bottle. I push her back into our room and shut the door.
“Are you going to put a spell on Mike, too?” My heart races.
She smiles. “Would you like me to?”
“What?”
“I wondered if you liked him.” Angie laughs. “Why didn’t you ask Chrissy if you could go on the date instead of me?”
“What do you mean?” I try to act innocent.
“You can tell me if you like him, Emma. He’s definitely good-looking. I could do a love spell for you, too!” Angie sounds way too excited.
“What? No!” Crap! Why did I have to go and ask her about Mike? This is so embarrassing.
“So you don’t like him?” Angie cocks her head.
“I didn’t say that,” I mumble. What is this? Confession?
“Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have gone on that date if I’d known you liked him.”
I shrug. “What’s the point?”
“How is he going to have any idea you’re interested if you’re so secretive about it?”
“But I don’t want him to find out. Then he’ll just avoid me.” Blushing, I can’t look Angie in the face.
“Why would he avoid you?”
I fidget with the hem of my pajamas. “He probably doesn’t like me back. I’m not beautiful like my mom.”
“Chrissy told me your mom is very attractive, but you’re pretty, too.” Angie sounds sincere.
“Thanks for trying, but I don’t really think I’m pretty. Everyone says I’m too quiet and shy, and I spend too much time reading books, and I suck at every single sport that exists, and I study too much, and I don’t know how to dress or...”
“Stop it!” Angie feels sorry for me, and for once, I don’t mind. “When
people say things like that to you, just ignore them. Why do you believe
anything bad somebody says about you, but you won’t listen to me when I
tell you you’re pretty?”
I wince. “Don’t you think it’s easier to believe the bad things than the good?”
“No, I only listen to compliments, not complaints.”
“I wish I could do that, but I can’t. I’m just not wired that way.”
“Stop putting yourself down! You’re smart and funny. Give yourself a chance. There’s no reason why Mike shouldn’t be interested in you.”
I roll my eyes, but Angie isn’t deterred. “If you’d let me work a love spell for you, then he’d like you for sure.”
“Do you have any spells that would make me less boring?” I ask, only half joking.
Angie laughs. “No, but, Emma...you’re not boring.”
“Yes, I am.” Clearly, you have not been paying attention.
“No, you just think you’re boring,” Angie reasons. “And I don’t have any spells for that, either, but I do have lots of love spells in Grandmother’s Book of Shadows.”
“Well, thanks, Angie, but I don’t want a love spell.”
I don’t believe in chanting, potions, and candle lighting anyway.
At least I don’t think I believe in them. However, even I have to wonder when early the next morning Chrissy’s phone starts ringing and doesn’t stop. Angie doesn’t seem surprised, but I watch, mystified, as Chrissy gets herself a new boyfriend.
Kevin suggests we all go out to breakfast together. I’m happy to join them until Angie starts playing matchmaker. I should appreciate her assistance. Instead, I’m so uncomfortable I can hardly swallow my food.
“Did you know that Emma gets straight A’s?” Angie makes another flattering comment about me. “She’s the smartest girl I know.”
No matter how good her intentions, I sound so very lame.
“Oh.” Mike focuses on his waffle.
I wince. “Don’t you think it’s easier to believe the bad things than the good?”
“No, I only listen to compliments, not complaints.”
“I wish I could do that, but I can’t. I’m just not wired that way.”
“Stop putting yourself down! You’re smart and funny. Give yourself a chance. There’s no reason why Mike shouldn’t be interested in you.”
I roll my eyes, but Angie isn’t deterred. “If you’d let me work a love spell for you, then he’d like you for sure.”
“Do you have any spells that would make me less boring?” I ask, only half joking.
Angie laughs. “No, but, Emma...you’re not boring.”
“Yes, I am.” Clearly, you have not been paying attention.
“No, you just think you’re boring,” Angie reasons. “And I don’t have any spells for that, either, but I do have lots of love spells in Grandmother’s Book of Shadows.”
“Well, thanks, Angie, but I don’t want a love spell.”
I don’t believe in chanting, potions, and candle lighting anyway.
At least I don’t think I believe in them. However, even I have to wonder when early the next morning Chrissy’s phone starts ringing and doesn’t stop. Angie doesn’t seem surprised, but I watch, mystified, as Chrissy gets herself a new boyfriend.
Kevin suggests we all go out to breakfast together. I’m happy to join them until Angie starts playing matchmaker. I should appreciate her assistance. Instead, I’m so uncomfortable I can hardly swallow my food.
“Did you know that Emma gets straight A’s?” Angie makes another flattering comment about me. “She’s the smartest girl I know.”
No matter how good her intentions, I sound so very lame.
“Oh.” Mike focuses on his waffle.
“And she has a belly ring.” Angie smirks.
“No, I don’t!” I protest, my mouth full of scrambled eggs, which is impressive for everyone else sitting at our table, I’m sure.
“Well, you should,” Angie says.
Both Mike and Kevin head toward the breakfast bar for seconds. I sit breathless with embarrassment, my stomach in knots.
“Would you stop trying to make me sound more interesting than I really am?” I beg.
“Well, somebody has to do something for you,” Angie argues.
“What’s going on?” Chrissy asks.
“Emma likes Mike,” Angie announces, much to my horror. Fortunately, the restaurant is packed with noisy diners, so I don’t think the boys can hear us.
“Good.” Chrissy nods. “Then you can come with me to Mike’s twenty- first birthday party. I just know Kevin is going to ditch me to take Mike out to the bars. You can wait there with me.”
For once I’m glad Chrissy always manages to make everything be all about her.
As expected, when the boys return with heavy trays, the two sisters add a lot more to the conversation than I do. I notice that even with her seemingly carefree ways, Angie refuses to go get seconds, just like her diet-conscious sister. Not wanting to seem like a pig all by myself, I don’t go back either, even after Mike tells me I should.
“You girls are missing out. These waffles are great.”
Angie leaves in a flurry later that day, waiting until the last minute to collect her things. She calls home just before she departs. “Okay, Mom, I’m leaving... Yes, I’m packed... Don’t worry. I’ll drive carefully. Bye now.”
Then Angie is gone.
I miss her already. Despite my protests and embarrassment, I know if Angie was around all the time, she’d help me with Mike.
Then maybe I’d have a chance.
Hope you enjoyed this small taste of HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS.
Want more? Here are purchase links:
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Magers & Quinn, The Local Store
published by Curiosity Quills.
“No, I don’t!” I protest, my mouth full of scrambled eggs, which is impressive for everyone else sitting at our table, I’m sure.
“Well, you should,” Angie says.
Both Mike and Kevin head toward the breakfast bar for seconds. I sit breathless with embarrassment, my stomach in knots.
“Would you stop trying to make me sound more interesting than I really am?” I beg.
“Well, somebody has to do something for you,” Angie argues.
“What’s going on?” Chrissy asks.
“Emma likes Mike,” Angie announces, much to my horror. Fortunately, the restaurant is packed with noisy diners, so I don’t think the boys can hear us.
“Good.” Chrissy nods. “Then you can come with me to Mike’s twenty- first birthday party. I just know Kevin is going to ditch me to take Mike out to the bars. You can wait there with me.”
For once I’m glad Chrissy always manages to make everything be all about her.
As expected, when the boys return with heavy trays, the two sisters add a lot more to the conversation than I do. I notice that even with her seemingly carefree ways, Angie refuses to go get seconds, just like her diet-conscious sister. Not wanting to seem like a pig all by myself, I don’t go back either, even after Mike tells me I should.
“You girls are missing out. These waffles are great.”
Angie leaves in a flurry later that day, waiting until the last minute to collect her things. She calls home just before she departs. “Okay, Mom, I’m leaving... Yes, I’m packed... Don’t worry. I’ll drive carefully. Bye now.”
Then Angie is gone.
I miss her already. Despite my protests and embarrassment, I know if Angie was around all the time, she’d help me with Mike.
Then maybe I’d have a chance.
Hope you enjoyed this small taste of HOW TO DATE DEAD GUYS.
Want more? Here are purchase links:
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Magers & Quinn, The Local Store
published by Curiosity Quills.
No comments:
Post a Comment