Shadow Girl

Book Two: Soul Searching

[Chapter Eleven: Promise]

      April 23rd

                        This past week hasn't been easy. Even though Moira trusts me again, not many other people at school do. If Moira isn't in the cafeteria, I sit alone. People either hate me or are afraid of me.

                        It's damn near impossible at home. Grams barely speaks to me, and I barely speak to her. The one time I did speak to her was yesterday. I've made a decision. It's one of the hardest ones I've ever made.

                        I don't even want to write it down yet—it still doesn't feel real. I haven't even told Moira yet. I don't know how. I'm going to have to soon, though. I don't have much more time.

                                                                                                --Jordan

            On Saturday morning, Jordan and I walked together to the high school. Jordan had some photography class project that he had to work on, but he couldn't do it during school. Jordan had wanted some shots of me in the library, and he told me the librarian said he'd have to do it after school hours.

            "You know, I'm pretty sure she meant right after school. You know, on a school day?" I said as we walked up the steps. I tried the door; it was locked. "Now what?"

            "I guess we just have to wait until someone comes and sees us," Jordan said, pushing his face up against the window in the door. "And then we have to hope they let us in."

            We stood around for a few minutes. Then, I started thinking about it. "Jordan. We're witches."

            Jordan looked at me. "Yeah. So?"

            "So why are we waiting around? We can let ourselves in."

            A slow smile crept onto his face. "We can?"

            "As long as you never tell my parents. They'd kill me, especially Dad." I stood in front of the doorway and lay both my hands on the doors, closing my eyes, concentrating. Focus. I thought up a quick, easy spell. Clear a path; make a road, so we can continue where we must go. I overcome this stumbling block and tell this door to be unlocked. I visualized the lock turning itself open, and within seconds, I heard a deep click. I grinned and pulled the door open.

            "Nice," Jordan commented, looking at me with admiration. I just smiled and pulled Jordan through the empty halls.

            About halfway to the library, Jordan decided it would be fun to start tickling me. "Jordan, stop!" I gasped, laughing. One thing you probably wouldn't guess about me is that I'm extremely ticklish. My parents—and now, Jordan—are the only people that know. I ran down the hall, trying to get away for Jordan. "I swear, if you don't stop, I'm gonna put a binding spell on you so bad you--"

            Suddenly I heard the jangling of keys. My eyes went wide. "Keep back." I pushed Jordan up against the wall and put myself next to him. Jordan opened his mouth to say something, but I covered it with my hand. "Shh. Someone's coming. Repeat after me, okay?" Jordan nodded, and I took my hand away from his mouth. "Okay. You see me not, I am but a shadow." I said it again, and then Jordan started saying it.

            The janitor rounded the corner, and Jordan and I froze. Clearly, the janitor had heard us coming down the hall, and was looking for the trespassers. "Hello? Who's there?" The handy thing about see-me-not spells is that while they don't necessarily make you invisible, they make you unnoticeable. Jordan and I were right in front of the janitor, but he didn't see us. His eyes glossed over us like we'd blended in with the lockers we were up against. Jordan's eyes were wide with wonder. Finally, the janitor left.

            "That was awesome…" Jordan said, sounding completely in awe.

            I grinned. "You know how I was telling you about what I used to do when I was a little kid?" Jordan nodded, and I smirked and said, "Well, it only gets better when you're a teen." Jordan wiggled his eyebrows, and we went on our way towards the library.

            The library doors were locked, too, but this time I let Jordan give my door-unlock spell a try. It took him a few minutes more than it had taken me, but he finally triumphed, smiling at me. I felt proud of him; breaking and entering was infinitely preferable to white witch fire.

            "So, why the library?" I asked once we walked inside. I hopped onto a table and swung my legs back and forth, waiting for Jordan's answer.

            Jordan smiled shyly. "I sort of wanted to recapture the day we met."

            I giggled. "Well then, you're gonna need a crystal I can look horrified at." Jordan cracked up as I practiced "shocked" faces for the camera.

            "You know, now that I think about it, that rock you were holding--"

            "Crystal, Jordan. It was a crystal."

            "Okay, okay, that crystal you were holding had something to do with you being a witch. Didn't it?"

            I blushed. "Yeah. It did." Jordan snapped a few pictures of me, then sat next to me on the table, waiting for an explanation for the crystal. "Well, the crystal I had was my mom's name stone. Morganite."

            Jordan raised his eyebrows. "Any relation to kryptonite?"

            I smiled and shook my head no. "Morganite is a form of beryl. If a blood witch holds it and sends energy into it, they see an image of what's deepest in their hearts."

            Jordan cracked a smile. "I see where this is going."

            "So I was trying to figure out what the crystal was—it's not an easy crystal to identify. Morganite's kind of rare. And I sent some energy into the crystal…and I saw you."

            "That would explain your reaction when I came over and said hi," Jordan said, smiling at me. We sat looking at each other for a few minutes. Then Jordan said, "I've been reading about how some blood witches have ancestral memories of spells."

            "Yeah?" I said, furrowing my eyebrows. "It's pretty rare, Jordan."

            "Yeah, I know," Jordan agreed. "But lately…for about the past two weeks, sometimes I'll hear these words inside my head, and they sound like they're in a different language. I also read that a lot of Wiccan terms are in Gaelic, so I was wondering if I have that, ancestral memory. Not really of spells, but just…Wicca in general. The reason I bring it up now is that it just happened again. Right now, when you were telling me about the crystal."

            I thought about this for a few moments. "Hmm. Interesting. I've never heard of anything like this before. But either you do have ancestral memory, or you're hearing things. What exactly are you hearing? What are the words?"

            "Mùirn beatha dàn."

            My jaw literally dropped open. "Oh. Oh, wow…"

            "What?" Jordan asked. "What did I say? Did I curse you out in Wiccan or something?"

            I laughed. "No, no, you didn't curse me out. It's just…that term? Mùirn beatha dàn? It's a Wiccan term for…" I trailed off for dramatic effect, smirking at Jordan.

            "For what? Come on, spit it out, spit it out!"

            I smiled. "For soul mates."

            Jordan looked at me in surprise. "I'm not saying that it's a huge, definite thing," I said quickly. "I mean, in Wicca there's a belief that everyone has someone who they're meant to be with forever. I mostly thought it was stupid, my whole life." I looked at him, sort of shyly. "But…I don't know. After all we've been through…I'm starting to wonder, maybe it's not so stupid."

            Jordan was solemn, not looking at me. "Soul mates, huh?" My eyes suddenly locked onto his eyes; there was sadness in them.

            "There's something you're not telling me," I accused him slowly. "And that's not witch instinct talking, it's girlfriend instinct."

            Jordan exhaled hard. "Moira…I've made a decision."

            "Why do I get a bad feeling about this?"

            "Living with Grams is impossible now," he told me. "She's not gonna accept me being a witch anytime soon."

            "So? My grandparents are terrified of me. I'm the demon grandchild to them. But my mom and they are on good terms. It worked out. It can work out for you, too."

            "Your grandparents and my step grandmother are different people. Your grandparents are worried. Grams blatantly hates Wicca. She either wants me to give it up…or she wants me to leave." My eyes widened. "I asked her where my relatives live. She told me. I have a ticket to La Quinta. Grams told the school I'm leaving."

            I felt like I'd been punched. "You…you're…where's La Quinta?" My voice cracked on the last word.

            Jordan looked away from me. "It's in California."

            I looked away from him, too. "California. I tell you I think we're soul mates, and you tell me you're leaving Widow's Vale for California."

            "Moira…"

            "No, seriously, could you get any farther away? China, perhaps? Australia?" My voice sounded oddly high-pitched.

            Jordan gripped my shoulders and twisted me around so I was facing him. "I knew that you'd be upset. I'm upset, too. I wish that it didn't have to be this way. But…I need this, Moira. I need to know about my family. Think of your mother. Don't you think she would have wanted to know her biological mother, if she could? I need to know about my real family, my heritage. You don't know what it's like. You've always known who you were and what your family was like. I have no clue who my ancestors were. I need to go." He loosened his grip a little. "My whole life changed in a few days. I just need to get away for a while, figure out who I am. Soul searching, you know?"

            For a few minutes, I was silent. Then I sighed. "Yeah. I know. I'm sorry I overreacted. It's just…I wish you didn't have to do this. This all just sucks so much." I blew my bangs away from my eyes and shook my hair back from my face. "So…when are you leaving?"

            "Tomorrow."

            I pushed him off the table. "Tomorrow? You're leaving tomorrow and you're telling me now?"

            I'm sorry," Jordan said. "I didn't know how to tell you. I'm sorry." I looked away from him. "Look, I know I made some bad choices. I just want to spend as much time as possible with you now. We still have the rest of today. Let's just make it count, okay?"

            I was silent for a moment. "There is no photography class project, is there? You just wanted an excuse to get a few pictures of this place, of me, so you'll remember."

            Jordan hung his head, defeated. "I'm sorry."

            I looked around the library, where we met. I'd fallen for Jordan so fast. Everything had happened fast. Maybe I was wrong about being soul mates. "Let's just get out of here. Make the best of the day." I slid off the table and walked towards the door. My jaw was set.

            "Moira." Jordan grabbed my arm, and I turned around. His eyes shot through mine, like they always did, like he was looking into my soul. "I love you. Never forget that."

            He kissed me tenderly on the forehead. I started to cry.

*  *  *

            The next day, Jordan and I walked to the train station together silently. He'd take the train into Manhattan, catch a Port Authority bus to the John F. Kennedy airport, and fly to La Quinta, California. I felt as if we were in some old-fashion movie, where the main characters say their final goodbyes on the train station platform.

            All the way to the station, I kept telling myself, You will not cry. There is no reason to cry. Jordan has to go find himself in California and you have to get over it. The mùirn beatha dàn idea was stupid. So don't you dare cry.

            "So this is it." Jordan said it to himself as much as he said it to me.

            "When do you think you'll be back?" I asked. I only assumed this wasn't permanent, since all he carried with him was a small duffel bag.

            "I don't know," he told me.

            "Well, how long did they say you could stay?" Jordan started looking guilty, and my eyes narrowed. "Jordan, they have no idea you're coming, do they?"

            "Everything happened so quickly. I never really thought about that." Jordan looked nervous. He kept running a hand through his hair.

            His right hand started going up, and I grabbed it. He was starting to annoy me with it. "You are coming back, right?" I asked, feeling nervous, too.

            Jordan nodded. "I promise. I'll be back." He suddenly reached into his back pocket. "I have a gift for you."

            I raised my eyebrows as he handed me a small, black box. I lifted the lid to reveal one of those black, velvet boxes that really fancy jewelry comes in. Jordan watched me carefully as I opened it. My breath caught in my throat. I'd seen this ring before.

            It was a plain, silver ring. Plain except for a design engraved on one part. It was a very detailed engraving, three boxes with letters in two of the boxes, and a plus sign between them. R+J, for Romeo and Juliet—but wait. No. This one was different. It didn't say R+J—it said M+J. Moira and Jordan. I immediately checked the inside of the band, and my eyes threatened to burst into tears when I saw I love thee engraved in script there. "This is incredible…it looks just like the one in the movie…" I'm fourteen, I suddenly realized. I'm fourteen, he's sixteen, and we're saying our final goodbyes, and this is insane. We shouldn't have to go through this. We're only kids.

            "You know, it's okay to cry," Jordan said gently. I was biting my lips hard to keep from sobbing.

            "How did you get this?" I asked him in a whisper. "When? How? This is impossible."

            "I decided that I was leaving on Wednesday, and I went to the jewelry place and described it and told them it had to be done by yesterday. I picked it up before I met you at school." Jordan took my hand and the ring, and he slid the ring onto my finger. "I figured that you'd like it. You know, since Romeo and Juliet is your favorite movie."

            "This isn't fair," I said, choking on the lump that had formed in my throat. The floodgates went down and tears rolled down my face. "You can't leave. You made me believe in all that mùirn beatha dàn crap, I never believed in it until you. Never. Not even for my own parents. You can't leave me." I felt moronic and selfish, standing there in front of Jordan, crying my eyes out, telling him not to go.

            Jordan drew me into his arms and held me while I sobbed into his shoulder. He kissed my head and smoothed my dark, crimson-streaked hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Jordan whispered over and over.

            "Don't say you're sorry. You don't have anything to be sorry for," I told him after a while. "You need to go. You need to find your family. I'm being selfish."

            "It's okay." Jordan held me for a few more minutes. Then he leaned down and kissed me.

            I kissed him back, then stepped back a little. "You have to go now, Jordan. Everyone's getting on the train."

            We held eye contact for a moment. "I love you, Moira."

            "I love you, too…" I was going to start crying again. "Just go, Jordan. It just makes it harder when you keep staying."

            Jordan just looked at me for a moment. Then he picked up his bag and boarded the train. A few minutes later, the doors banged shut, and the train started moving. I stood there on the platform, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, staring at my reflection in the train windows as it passed by. An angry looking girl, clad in a plaid skirt and a borrowed Ataris hoodie stared back. My dark hair was slightly tossed in the wind, and a red strand blew across my face. I remembered my first kiss, out in the rain with Jordan. Had that only been two weeks ago? It felt like an eternity. Soon the train was gone, and so was Jordan. I stood there for a few minutes, not wanting to move.

            "Hey." I turned around and saw my mother standing a few feet away. She smiled gently at me. "I thought you might want a ride home."

            "In a little while," I told her, looking down the track to where the train had disappeared. Moments later, I felt my mom putting her arms around me, leaning her chin on my shoulder, looking where I was looking.

            "It'll get better," she promised me. I could only nod. We stood there, mother and daughter, silently. Having her there didn't erase the pain completely.

            But it helped.

[Author's Note]

          Another book finished. I hope you all liked it ^^ Book Three will come in a little while; I try to give myself a little break in between books. Thanks to everyone who reviewed ^___^ Right now I'm gonna take the time to plug my good friend, Sherie's Sweep fan fiction. It's called Tears of Glass, and it has a big plot twist: What if Morgan and Hunter's daughter became evil? Definitely worth checking out.

            Well, that's about it. Later days! [Katie]