Spellcaster

Sighing, Mateo ran one hand through his hair. “I need a sec.”

“All right. I’ll take a sec here with you.”

That was fine with Mateo. They weren’t exactly close friends—they’d only met when Gage transferred to Rodman last year—but Gage at least treated Mateo like he was a normal person. Gage didn’t know any better, at least not yet.

Mateo saw that instead of cutting his dreadlocks over the summer, as some teachers had suggested, Gage had drawn them back into a neat bun at the nape of his neck, which brought him just into compliance with school rules. Although he was handsome and athletic—and not afraid to be himself in conformity-obsessed Captive’s Sound—Gage wasn’t one of the more popular kids in school. He was probably too independent for that, not to mention too discriminating to hang out with jerks like Jinnie and Jeremy. Instead he was content to hang out on the sidelines and do his own thing. Mateo was grateful for that; only someone who didn’t follow the herd would hang out with him.

Then Gage’s eyes widened, and his normally carefree expression switched into pure, abject devotion. “Which means maybe I get to talk to Elizabeth.”

Mateo looked across the grounds to the edge of campus, where Elizabeth stood. Her long chestnut curls ruffled in the breeze, as did the simple white dress she wore. She was so unlike any other girl at school—her face clean-scrubbed, her clothes anything but fashionable, and yet there was no doubting her beauty.

She was his oldest friend. His best friend. There was no one else he could ever have told about Nadia—and until this moment, he hadn’t realized how badly he needed to talk.

Elizabeth came toward him, and though she spoke softly, he heard every word. “Mateo. You look troubled.”

“It’s not a great day,” he answered.

Gage tried to cut in. “Since when is the first day of school a great day? Am I right?” He laughed a little too loud, then gave Mateo a look that clearly meant, Why am I talking like an idiot? The poor guy was so into her it scrambled his brains. Sometimes Mateo thought Gage might stand a chance with Elizabeth if he’d try shutting up occasionally.

But at the moment, Elizabeth showed no signs of even noticing that Gage was there. Her attention was only for Mateo. “Do you need to talk?”

“I kinda do. But I don’t want to make you late for class.”

“You’re gonna be late to class, too,” Gage pointed out. “Remember the part about escape through graduation?”

“They worked it out so my study hall is first period. In case La Catrina closes late.” Mateo spoke more to Elizabeth than to Gage. “Unless you guys are in study hall, too—”

“I can skip,” Elizabeth insisted. Her gentle voice could sound so firm sometimes. “This is important.”

Gage obviously wanted to think of a reason he should stay as well, but came up blank. “Okay. So. Catch you later?”

“Sure thing.” Mateo watched Gage lope off across the grounds, grateful there was one guy he could hang with. But he had only one real friend: Elizabeth. She alone understood him; she knew Mateo’s soul.

As they walked together to the broad elm at the very edge of school property, Mateo wondered once again why he wasn’t in love with Elizabeth. He should’ve been. Instead she was like the sister he’d never had. In childhood, when the other kids shunned him for being Lauren Cabot’s son, Elizabeth had played with him. Together they had climbed trees, made cookies, watched TV. She alone was loyal. She alone accepted him no matter what.

They sat side by side, their backs against the elm tree, as the bell rang. When it stopped, Elizabeth said, “Have you been having the dreams again?”

“Yes. Except they aren’t only dreams, Elizabeth. They’re real.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” The next would sound unbelievable, but the proof was here, now, walking the halls of Rodman High in the form of a girl so beautiful she stopped his heart. “I’ve seen her. The girl from the dream I told you about.”

“That could have been anybody in the wreck. It was dark and rainy—you had to be in shock—”

“You keep saying that, and I kept trying to believe you, but she’s here at Rodman High. Today. Her name is Nadia.”

“Nadia. Do you know her last name?”

“No.” He only barely stopped himself from saying not yet.

Elizabeth took a sip from her bottle of water, obviously taking a moment to consider this. “You’re sure she’s the same one?”

“Positive. It’s her. How else would I have known to be there before the accident?”

“Coincidence.”

“I could’ve believed that before today. Not anymore.” Mateo kicked at the ground with the heel of his sneaker. “I’m seeing the future. Just like Mom. Just like all the other Cabots.”

“They only thought they saw the future—”

“That’s what everybody always believed. I always believed that, too. But now I know it’s for real.”

Which meant the rest of the “Cabot curse” was real as well.

It stretched back through generations of his mother’s family—for hundreds of years, since Rhode Island was a colony and the first Cabots settled here. Maybe it went back to England, too; nobody knew for sure. All anybody knew was that, once a generation, a member of the Cabot family began claiming to know the future. That was how it always began. It always ended like—like it had for Mom.