The sun had barely climbed above the horizon when Peter took my hand and pulled me out of the noisy crowd outside the school cafeteria. "Emma," he said, his voice trembling slightly, his hazel eyes serious, locked onto mine, "I know it might be too soon or too sudden, but I... I like you. I like you a lot. And I don't know what we are anymore, but I want this to be real. Us. Will you be my girlfriend?"
My heart exploded into a billion stars. I blinked, speechless for the first time in forever. And then I said, in the most Emma way possible, "Peter, if you don't kiss me right now, I swear I'm going to combust."
He laughed. That perfect, soft laugh that always hit me like a wave of warm cocoa. And then he kissed me—right there, in front of the vending machines, with students moving around us like we didn't even exist. The world melted away.
And then came Chloe.
"Oh my GOD!" Chloe shrieked as soon as Peter walked away to grab our lunches. "You guys kissed? You said yes?! My girl has a BOYFRIEND now?!"
"Chloe, shut up," I hissed, but I was grinning like a complete idiot. She practically bounced beside me.
"Was it romantic? Did he say something sweet? Did he go on one knee? Oh my God, Emma, tell me everything!"
"It was sweet," I admitted. "No knee, but... he said he wanted us to be real. I melted. Not gonna lie."
"Ugh! I love this for you. But also, I want to barf. In a good way."
As we walked back inside, Amanda and her group passed us. She rolled her eyes and smirked, "Took him long enough."
I ignored her. Not even Amanda could ruin this.
Later that evening, when I got back to Liam's house, everything felt surreal. My phone buzzed. Group chats were popping off.
Chloe: "So Emma's officially taken, y'all. RIP to Peter's mysterious bachelor life."
Edward: "Wow, I blink and miss the main plot. Congrats, Queen."
Peter: "Should I be worried everyone is more excited than Emma?"
I texted Peter privately: You made me the happiest girl today.
As I walked into the living room, Liam was on the couch, reading a book with his laptop open beside him. He looked up and gave a small smile.
"Hey, you're late. Everything okay at school?"
I bit my lip. "Peter... he asked me to be his girlfriend."
His smile stayed, but something flickered in his eyes. "Oh. That's... good news, right?"
I nodded. "Yeah. It is."
He stood, gathering his things. "Well then... congratulations. I have to finish some reports for tomorrow. If you don't mind."
He started to walk away.
I followed him quietly to his room. "Liam… wait."
He stopped at his door, his hand on the knob. "Emma, it's fine. You don't need to explain anything. I'm 21. I work. I'm not a high schooler. I'm not Peter. I don't go to prom or pass notes in class."
"That's not fair."
He exhaled deeply and opened the door. "Just let me work, okay? I have deadlines. Only if you let me."
He disappeared inside. I stood there, stung. I didn't expect a celebration, but this... this distant coldness? It hurt.
I went to my room, tried to read, couldn't focus.
Then my phone buzzed.
Nathan: Hey. Wanna meet at the lake? Need to show you something.
I needed air. I needed a friend.
I threw on a hoodie over my crop top and slipped out quietly. The lake shimmered under the moonlight, peaceful, the kind of stillness that lets secrets come alive.
Nathan sat on the edge, legs dangling. He turned when he heard me.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I've been better."
I sat beside him. We didn't speak for a moment. Then I said, "I need to tell you something. Something I haven't told anyone."
He turned to me, expression earnest. "What is it?"
"I found a ritual."
His brows shot up. "Ritual? Like magic ritual?"
"Yeah. I found it in an old book. Buried inside Liam's grandfather's library."
He leaned closer. "What does it do?"
"It can banish Amelia. For good."
Nathan's lips parted, eyes wide. "Are you serious? That's huge."
"It's dangerous." I looked at my hands. "If I do it wrong, I might lose my mind. Or worse... be paralyzed. Or... nothing could happen. I don't know. I haven't told Peter or Chloe. Or Liam."
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because you remind me of me, Nathan. When I didn't believe. When I laughed at the idea of magic. And because I trust you."
His gaze softened. "You're crazy for trusting me that much."
"Maybe."
He smiled, and then hugged me. "Whatever happens, I'm with you. You're not alone."
I smiled back, heart full.
But as I walked away, he sat by the lake for a moment longer. And then he reached into his bag and pulled out a small, black crystal. Whispering something in a language I didn't understand, his eyes darkened slightly.
Back at home, I curled into bed, Peter's jacket still smelling like him beside me.
And across the house, Liam stared at his dark ceiling, wide awake.
He had seen me hug Peter. Seen me glow.
But he didn't glow anymore.
And that thought haunted us both.
The next morning at school felt unusually bright, like nothing wrong could possibly happen—but I knew better. I'd barely slept the night before. My mind kept returning to what I had told Nathan. The ritual. The risk. The truth.
Peter met me outside the school gates, holding a warm paper cup of hot chocolate in one hand and my notes in the other.
"Breakfast of champions," he grinned. "For my favourite magical girlfriend."
I laughed, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "You're so cheesy, Peter."
"Cheesy and taken," he winked, and I rolled my eyes.
We sat near the courtyard bench. He gave me a quick recap of the lecture I missed. I noticed his hand brushing against mine occasionally, lingering just a little longer each time. My cheeks flushed.
But my attention soon wavered. Across the corridor, Nathan leaned against the railing of the second floor, his gaze darting around. His hand casually dipped into his pocket, and something shimmered for a moment.
That black stone.
It wasn't glowing. Not doing anything strange. Just a black stone. But something about it—it buzzed in the back of my mind like static.
Later during lunch, I asked him.
"Hey, Nathan… that stone thing you always keep… what is it?"
He paused, eyes wide for half a second—just enough for me to notice. Then he laughed awkwardly.
"Oh! That? It's uh… just a lucky charm. My grandma gave it to me before she passed away. Said it would always protect me."
His smile didn't reach his eyes. I nodded slowly, pretending to believe him.
"That's sweet," I said, trying to sound casual. But a small part of me noted the hesitation. The way he fidgeted. I didn't suspect anything bad, just… maybe it meant more to him than he let on.
Meanwhile, across the cafeteria, Edward had been watching. Not in a creepy way—just enough to notice how close we stood, how quietly we spoke. He frowned, poking at his food with his fork, then later pulled Chloe aside.
"I think something's going on between Emma and Nathan," he whispered.
Chloe's brow arched. "You mean like something going on?"
"No, no—like… they're hiding something. Something big."
Chloe blinked. "They're friends. Nathan's obsessed with magic stuff. Emma loves talking about it. Maybe she's just helping him out?"
Edward didn't look convinced. "Still... keep an eye on them."
That afternoon, Chloe pulled me into the washroom before the bell.
"Sooooo," she said, arms folded, "what's this secret squirrel thing going on between you and Nathan?"
"Nothing," I replied a little too fast.
Her eyes narrowed.
"He's just… really curious about all the stuff we're dealing with. Magic, Amelia, everything. You know how I was before? Not believing any of it? He's like that."
"You trust him?" she asked softly.
I paused. "I think so."
I didn't mention the ritual. I didn't mention the book. I didn't mention the date. Some secrets had to stay in the dark.
But that evening, Nathan and I met again—at the lake. Quiet. Still. The moon's reflection shimmered on the surface like glass about to crack.
"Full moon's in seven days," I whispered, standing barefoot in the grass. "That's when I'll do the ritual."
Nathan sat beside me, his black stone glowing faintly in his hand—just enough to catch the light, not enough to seem magical.
"You'll be okay?" he asked, voice careful.
"I don't know," I admitted.
I had found the book tucked in an old shelf in the library—written in a language I barely understood until I started dreaming in it. The ritual it described wasn't simple. There were symbols, blood, whispers I had to chant from a tongue I never studied. It warned: you may not return whole. You may lose your body. You may lose your mind. But if you return, you will be free.
I told no one else. Not Peter. Not Chloe. Not Liam. But I told Nathan.
He listened, more silent than ever. I thought he might run. But he reached out, touched my hand.
"You're not alone. I'll be there."
"No," I said quickly. "I have to do this alone. I need to. Amelia can't reach strong thoughts. And this ritual... it requires all of me. Every cell. Every thought. Anyone close could get hurt. Or worse."
Nathan frowned but nodded slowly. "Then I'll stand far. Just enough to watch. You won't see me. But I'll be there."
"Please don't," I whispered. "I can't risk it. If I see you, I might hesitate."
"Emma…" he started, then stopped. He didn't argue again. Just stared out at the lake, his fingers curling around that stone like it was part of him.
We didn't notice Edward at the edge of the trees, watching us. His arms folded. His jaw clenched.
He didn't hear much. But what he did hear made his gut twist. Later that night, he texted Chloe.
Edward: I think they're hiding something big. Nathan is… weird. I don't trust him.
Chloe messaged back quickly.
Chloe: I'll talk to Emma. Again.
Before sunset, Peter found me by the bike racks, his smile calm as ever. We held hands, talked softly about everything except magic. He handed me notes, told me to rest, made me laugh with a dumb pun about witches being "spellbound."
Then Liam pulled up. His car gleamed in the orange light.
He stepped out, walked around, opened the door for me.
"Thanks," I smiled.
"You forgot your tie again," he said dryly, reaching up to fix it like always.
"I forget on purpose," I mumbled.
"Yeah? Well, I fix on purpose," he replied.
We drove home in silence, but it wasn't awkward. Just peaceful.
That night, I fell asleep without nightmares. I felt safe. But I didn't know a storm had already begun. One born not from Amelia… but from the boy with the black stone who now whispered into shadows when no one watched.