We’ll Laugh About It in Ten Years || Fiona, Allison, Chloe, Liam & Katie
“Oh, jeepers!” Katie bit her lip. “Okay, so I mean, the red marks were probably initially for like, spells that totally didn’t work, right? Like, as a way of marking them off. So why in the heck did this one work?” She made sure to keep her voice extra-quiet. Chloe was probably (definitely) a witch, but she didn’t have super hearing, and Ally, badass as she was, didn’t, either. But Liam was still a werewolf, even if he was a preschool werewolf, and they totally didn’t need him overhearing them and flipping out. Especially if that flipping out entailed him going all claws and fangs. Chloe might have magic, but that did not mean she knew about the rest of the supernatural world, and having a five year old wolf out on her was so not the introduction she needed.
“Can you show me the spell?” Katie asked. “Maybe if we look at it, we can figure out how to counter it.” She tried to remember the things her dad had taught her about countering spells. She knew she could totally call him, except…okay, she so did not need another lecture about responsibility. Maybe they could fix this for themselves! “Maybe it worked for you because you are extra powerful,” Katie suggested. “And it just didn’t work for whoever crossed it off because they weren’t as strong as you. But either way, we like, really need to figure out what happened and how to undo it.”
Fiona nodded, feeling a bit relieved at Katie’s suggestion. When Fiona had been deciding who she should call, it had been a no brainer to alert Katie to the situation. Even if she had to carefully choose who else to call, there was nothing she could or would do without the eccentric blonde. They worked best when they put their heads together, and Fiona’s was too frazzled to work on its own.
“Got it. I think it’s upstairs.” She turned towards the stairs, but not before glancing back at the kitchen to see what was happening. It looked like Allison, Chloe and Liam were all drawing, in various states of contentment, with Liam rambling along without a care in the world. Until, at least, he stopped himself and asked someone for their name. Was his memory all gone now? Or just their names? And who had he forgotten? She shared a look with Katie. “It sounds like we need to work fast.” Taking another glance back towards the kitchen, she lead up the stairs and towards Liam’s bedroom.
Her book was still lying there on the bed. She had told Liam not to touch it, and thankfully he’d listened to her. If he got his hands on it, it could’ve been bad. She open the book, flipping to the page with the spell. “Here,” she said, showing Katie the spell that she’d recited. It wasn’t very long, and had a red mark through it. There were notes on the side, saying that it was an age reduction spell and to be careful with it. Her mother’s writing, she thought. But she still had no idea why it worked for her, when the other spells didn’t.
Allison trained her eyes on Chloe as she shrugged. Her own expression remained friendly and impassive, but she studied the girl, searching for signs of deflection or avoidance, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Her shrug seemed to be less a way to keep from replying, and more so simply the reply itself. Smiling at the sight of the drawing, she commented, “That’s really good, Chloe. You’re a very good artist.”
Looking up at Liam, she beamed when he said he was drawing them, and when she glanced at the paper he was focusing on. There was something so sweet about it. But at his next words, her heart sank slightly. Liam was already forgetting…and she didn’t want that for him. She didn’t want to alert Chloe, either, and she really didn’t want Liam to have to go through that. Smiling at him, she said, “I’m Allison.”
Please, hurry, She silently whispered to Katie and Fee.
She’d been tempted to tell the older girl not to stare, but that, Chloe had learned, would be too direct and probably rudely phrased (coming from her mouth, at least). Her eyes dropped down to the sketchbook at Allison’s compliment; she’d never been told otherwise, so it’d just become something of a universal fact. Chloe was fine with that — at least no one had to teach her to do this. “I know,” she said plainly, barely lifting her head, then tacked on a quick, “But, thanks.”
Flipping back to where she’d originally left off, Chloe worked compulsively, sketching details into trees and branches as she tried to ignore the sudden pain. It was all an attempt to drag out as much time as possible before her attention went to the building in the middle of the scene, the one thing that she wish wouldn’t stay stuck in her head. The tree roots had pulled inwards, funneling down, braiding together and hooking around into a circle; into a different design entirely. If someone squinted, the lines would look like an abstract version of a snake, circling back on itself. Taking a look at it, she dropped her left palm next to the page, looking between the two at the nearly identical image etched into the skin there. Scrunching her nose in distaste, Chloe frowned, flipping to a fresh page. With her eyes screwed shut, a pained look flashed across pinched features for a moment despite the continued movement of her pencil. “Stop,” the blonde muttered again, clenching her jaw a bit and putting more pressure on the page. She tried not to cringe. Scritch, scritch, scritch, scritch —
“——Bathroom?” Chloe finally blurted out, jumping to her feet and looking over at Stephen.
Liam stared blankly at the blonde girl for a moment. Whatever her name was, she was... weird. But then again, who was he to call anyone weird? He was a five year old werewolf -- which, cool -- so he had no room to talk. Still. He wondered how his big brother knew her, but didn’t bother asking. She was already talking to herself. He didn’t know what his talking to her would do.
He continued to stare for a few moments before realizing that she was talking to him again. “There’s one by the front door, in the -- in the -- the, um, hallway.” He pointed vaguely in the direction he was talking about. He knew what he meant, of course, but found it hard to put the directions into words. He would lead her there himself, but he wanted to talk to Allison alone for a second. He had a feeling that she knew a whole lot more about what was going on than he did. For example, maybe she knew where his mom was. Or who the weird blonde girl was. Or, maybe, the two girls who went upstairs. There was so much he didn’t really know, but he trusted Allison, for some reason. Even though he’d sworn he’d never seen her before, he still trusted her.
(Chalk it up to five year old naivety, or lingering memories. Who could even tell, at this point?)