100% That Witch - Celia Kyle Page 0,28

said nothing, only watched her, as if waiting for her to continue.

“I didn’t always dress like this, you know. It’s a bit silly, but…”

“But?”

“Well, it started because of a crush.”

“Oh, now that’s interesting,” Nero said, leaning forward. “Go on.”

“There was this boy in grade school, and I was crazy about him,” she started to explain. It was funny, but she didn’t believe she had ever told this story to her friends. With Nero, though, she felt safe. He’d never mock her. Ever. “Unfortunately, he was a merciless bastard. He teased me about my cutesy magic, and he never missed an opportunity to humiliate me in front of the other kids.”

Nero winced. “That’s rough.”

She shrugged as though it didn’t matter, though she still felt the burn of that particular childhood humiliation. “I guess I’ve carried it with me. I just figured that, if I didn’t look like a pink, cutesy witch, people would stop giving me shit about it. Can’t say it’s working, but I’ve grown used to the style. Besides, it’s not like I could afford a whole new wardrobe right now anyway.”

“I see,” Nero murmured, staring into her very soul. “Wanna know what I think?” Before she could answer, he continued. “I think anyone who’s judged you like that is a complete idiot. You’re a wonderful person, Tiffany. You need to know that. A wonderful, unerringly generous, fabulously funny, amazing person. As for the cutesy magic... That’s part of what makes you so unbelievably special. You should embrace who you truly are, not try to banish or hide it.”

Warmth tingled through her entire body, but especially in her heart. A tightness formed behind her eyes, and she blinked hard to keep any wetness from filling her eyes. She wasn’t a cryer—at all—yet Nero was going to make her bawl with all of his compliments and kind words. But that was Nero.

“That kid had a crush on you, you know,” he said, taking another sip of his tea and grinning at her.

“No way,” she said through a mouthful of tuna melt. Stuffing her piehole was the only way to keep herself from getting overly emotional.

“If you haven’t noticed yet, boys are dumb. He probably didn’t know how to show it. It’s the old pulling-ponytails strategy. Too bad no one ever told him that honey attracts more flies than vinegar.”

She finished her tuna melt and let out a heavy sigh. “It’s too late to go back now. I mean, I’m about to get engaged, and I don’t think a full makeover would help the Rhonelles to like me any better.”

Nero shifted in his seat.

“Listen, if they can’t see what an incredible gift you have and exactly how awesome you truly are... fuck ‘em.”

Tiffany snickered but blushed from the roots of her hair to the very tips of her toenails. She wasn’t used to being heaped with praise like this. She could get used to it.

“You think?”

“Absolutely,” Nero nodded. “I wish I had your talents, but…” He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand at himself. “I’m destined to deal with death. And death isn’t best friends with happiness.”

“But you make me happy,” she found herself saying, blood rushing to her cheeks. She had no idea why she said it, but it was true. Whenever she was with Nero, she felt the kind of unadulterated joy serious adults weren’t supposed to have.

Then again, Nero was in a relationship with Nathan, and Tiffany was about to get engaged. She checked her wristwatch and sighed. “Crap, I gotta get going. Philosophy of magic is about to start.”

He stood and pulled out her chair for her. “Go get ’em, tiger. And congrats again on your test.”

As she walked out of the cafeteria, she felt as she always did whenever she left Nero—like her burdens had been lifted from her shoulders. Today more than ever. After all, this was the first time since her childhood that she actually felt good about who she really was.

Maybe Nero had a point.

Maybe—just maybe—it was time she accepted herself.

Eleven

“Gross!”

Vance Quilik’s face loomed in front of Tiffany in all its middle school glory. She had been at the cusp of learning what her magic was capable of, and presenting her first crush with a basket of baby mice seemed right and proper to her. They had little suits on and everything, dressed up especially for the occasion.

“What’s wrong with you,” he had asked, brimming with the cruel thoughtlessness of the young.

“I-I thought you’d like them…” Her stomach transformed into an empty