Broomstick Read online

  Broomstick

  A. L. Hawke

  Copyright © 2020 by A.L. Hawke

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by reviewers who may quote brief passages for a review. For permission requests, please write to:

  A.L. Hawke

  P.O. Box 2253

  Mission Viejo, CA 92690

  Email correspondence: [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-7329563-6-0

  ISBN: 978-1-7329563-7-7 (ebook)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020905247

  This is a work of fiction. It comes directly from the author’s imagination. Fictional witchcraft is included to infuse a sense of realism to the novel, but in no way is it supposed to represent actual practicing witchcraft, witches or the religion of Wicca. The book also includes fictitious names, characters, places, and incidents. Any public names are used solely for creative purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to companies, institutions, or locales is entirely coincidental or accidental.

  Line edited by Stephanie Ward

  Proofread by Eliza Dee of Clio Editing Services

  Cover Design © 2020 by Regina Wamba of MaeIDesign.com

  Published in the United States of America in April, 2020

  Learn more about A.L. Hawke at www.alhawke.com

  Created with Vellum

  In memory of my mother

  Your candle shines bright in my heart

  Contents

  1. Her Affliction

  2. Working Out

  3. The Frat Party

  4. Fall Leaves

  5. After Class

  6. The Ceremony

  7. Crying

  8. The T.A.

  9. The Gift

  10. Run Cadence

  11. Dinner

  12. Shopping

  13. Dad

  14. The Sacrifice

  15. Office Hours

  16. A Date

  17. Mandrake

  18. Crowley

  19. Friday Night

  20. Mira Apologizes

  21. Lacey’s Again

  22. Office Hours

  23. Alone

  24. Making Up

  25. Daddy

  26. Mira

  27. The Essay

  28. Boys

  29. Our Third Date

  30. Lattes

  31. Windstorm

  Acknowledgments

  Parting Words

  About the Author

  Also by A. L. Hawke

  1

  Her Affliction

  I feel a chill in the air. But the sunlight flickers between fall leaves warming me as I walk across campus with my best friend, Madison. It will be winter soon, but for now, the last days of autumn in Georgia seem so peaceful. I glimpse at patches of blue through the canopy of trees. The sky is like … so perfect. I love fall, I really do.

  But Maddie doesn’t seem interested in Mother Nature. She’s been acting like a witch since we got up, which is a bit odd because my BFF is one of the most energetic and cheery girls I know. I already asked her what’s wrong, but she won’t tell me.

  We pass the dorms and climb the grassy hill at the center of campus. At the summit is the tallest building at Hawthorne University: our library. But we’re not checking out books. A line of students snakes its way through a bunch of cute tables with burgundy umbrellas to the counter of our university coffee shop. I think the wait takes Maddie over the edge.

  She finally starts spitting out the events of her evening. “I went out on a date with Patrick. You know, the guy in my film studies class.” She told me about him before, emphasizing how tall and cute he is, but now she looks as if she bit into something sour. “I knew there was trouble the minute he picked me up in that filthy, dilapidated flatbed truck.” (I’m not surprised. She’s not a very good judge of character, you know). “We had this great tilapia chili dish and lime-green margaritas and everything was going fine until he reached under my skirt and touched my vagina.” I look around me, biting my lip nervously. We’re still standing in line, and she said the word vagina really loud. People are turning to look. Then Maddie tells me she hit him on the head. Patrick, acting like he was the victim, jumped up from their booth, ran, and left her the bill.

  Anyway, Maddie’s busy telling me this story about her date copping a feel—and saying the word vagina real loud—when, right before my eyes, she walks into the store and just grabs a drink off the counter. We haven’t ordered anything yet. It looks like a latte, but I’m not sure. I’m not so sure she knows either. Then she grabs my arm and we make a hasty exit. Maddie is like a total kleptomaniac.

  As we walk down a cement path paralleling the grassy hill, I stare at her and she flashes a really sweet grin, raising her cup as if in a toast. “Anyway, fuck him.”

  I’m thinking, At least she was asked out on a date.

  She looks at the brew in her stolen cup, puzzled. Then she throws her long hair back and cocks her head toward me very earnestly, saying, “Alondra wants to meet you.”

  I’m still looking at her in shock.

  “Why not?” Maddie asks. “It’ll be fun.”

  But I’m not thinking about Alondra. I point at her cup.

  “It’s really good,” she says with a chuckle. “I think it has soy. Want some? I don’t usually order soy but…this isn’t bad. Look, Katie…” (People call me Katie a lot, even though my name is Cadence.) “Alondra says she wants to meet you outside of class. Just come with me to her house.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t like the look of her.”

  Now we’re dodging bodies on the crowded lawn, heading to the main hall of the university. The main drag of Hawthorne is a white paved sidewalk surrounded by grass and trees, with brick buildings on both sides—and even more college bodies. The classroom buildings are spread out through the fields and under the tall trees. The leaves are so pretty in red and orange. Fall is my favorite time of year because I love the colors.

  Hawthorne University is in Georgia. It’s a really nice college, and I’m lucky to have been accepted here. So is Maddie. Everyone has a book tucked under their arm or is carrying a backpack. I have a pink backpack decorated with a unicorn. Maddie has always thought it’s a little too cute, but I think it’s whimsical. It even has purple swirls around the straps. Maddie’s carrying a small book, but I’m pretty sure she won’t read it. She’s not the best student.

  “You should go,” Maddie says again, sipping her stolen drink. She runs her free hand through her hair, which is long and black like mine. I reach for my hair and realize I put it in a bun this morning, so I just pat the top of my head like an idiot. Then I think about Maddie’s being a poor judge of character and think to myself, No. No way am I going to Alondra’s.

  “Why do you do that?” I point to her cup.

  Then she drinks some more with a large grin. Again, she offers me some, but I don’t have a chance to taste it because a nerdy-looking boy with glasses sprints between us, nearly knocking down her mysterious drink.

  “Hey!” Maddie yells. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” Then she turns back to me. “It’s busy, Kate. We should have gone into town like I told you.”

  I shrug. “I thought we’d just spend the afternoon on the grass studying for midterms.”

  I must look hurt because Maddie giggles and runs her hand down my back. “Whatever. Whatever you want.” Then she leans closer to me. “Just come with me tonight. Please. It’ll be a lot of fun. Alondra’s really nice. And I have a surprise.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well…”
Maddie walks off and stands under a really large tree. “You have to. For the surprise.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “Bryce will be there.”

  “So?”

  “Whaddaya mean so?” she says. “You can’t stop talking about him.”

  Of course Bryce will be there. He’s my teaching assistant and is really hot. “You’re just scared,” I say. “Now you’re trying to bribe me.”

  “I’m not scared, Cadence.”

  She plops down on the lawn, puts her book on her chest, and closes her eyes. I catch a glimpse of the book’s cover. It features a burly man with rippling muscles and the title Complete Me. She’s not studying.

  “Just come,” she says with her eyes closed. “I’ll meet you back in our dorm at six to get ready.”

  “Are we eating there?”

  “Yeah.” Maddie laughs with her eyes still closed. “Alondra always has plenty to eat. Too much. She knows just how to fatten you up.”

  Dr. Alondra Johansen has a house in the middle of a thick forest, only a couple of miles from the university. It’s rumored to have been built during the Civil War. I believe it. It’s a white-columned two-story mansion with a large shaded patio and a beautiful paved walkway. It makes me think Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind is going to run down the steps, any minute, to greet us. Surrounding the walkway is a field of grass and tall trees, along with a garden full of white and red lilies. I like lilies. I don’t like taking care of them, or any flowers for that matter, but I like looking at them. Especially in the wild. I like the outdoors. Always have.

  A small wooden carriage, painted red, sits on a modern paved driveway alongside the property. Parked behind it is Dr. Johansen’s dark gray Jaguar XJ. How does she own all this stuff? Some say she’s the descendant of an old wealthy family. It can’t be from her salary. She’s my history professor.

  There are others walking up the dirt walkway, mostly girls I recognize from class.

  With all the grandeur of the mansion, I’m surprised to see Alondra herself greet us at the door. A long pitch-black cape is draped over a darker black silk shirt and slacks. She has long black hair like mine, hanging loosely in waves. This time I’m wearing my long hair down too. And like the times I’ve seen her in class, I’m struck by her eyes. Alondra has bright jade eyes, like jewels. Her skin is pale, much paler than mine, and for a moment I imagine that she’s a vampire. It would certainly fit her affinity for the nineteenth century.

  But her smile isn’t sinister; it’s sweet. She’s always nice—too nice. She has a bright grin and seems thrilled to see me. “Cadence Hawthorne, come in.” I’m a little surprised she remembers my name. “I’m so glad you came. Are you considering our project?”

  “I’m thinking about it, Dr. Johansen.”

  Standing beside Alondra is her teaching assistant, the irresistibly yummy guy Maddie used to bribe me to come. Bryce’s suit doesn’t hide his muscular, athletic physique. He’s looking down into my eyes too. But his eyes are blue—gorgeous blue. I’m reminded of the cover of that trashy romance novel my best friend was reading. The model was like a bulkier version of Bryce, but Bryce is the real deal—and incredibly hot.

  Now I’m blushing.

  “Cadence,” Bryce says, taking my hand formally and tipping his head.

  I’m cherry red.

  Bryce turns to my friend. “Madison.”

  “Hi, Bryce,” Maddie says. Then she looks at me and struggles not to laugh.

  I look away.

  The foyer is grand. Above me is this amazing chandelier. It’s made of a hundred tiny crystals reflecting light. It’s the most beautiful chandelier I’ve ever seen. I almost feel dizzy looking up at the twinkling crystals. But that doesn’t do justice to the rest of the house. The hallway, including the wooden-railed stairway, is white, and marble columns frame the front door. Enormous windows extend from the ceilings to the travertine floor. The hallway leads to the kitchen, where everyone has gathered, their voices echoing through the house.

  Dr. Johansen greets me as we linger just inside the doorway. “Please, call me Alondra.” Oh yeah, my professor is still greeting me. Watching me. She’s still looking at me with her mesmerizing green eyes. I completely forgot about her. I’m a little surprised she didn’t say hello to Maddie. “You can reserve calling me by my title for when we’re in class, Cadence,” she says with a nod. “But here, please relax. Call me Alondra.”

  Oh shit, do I not look relaxed?

  My eyes fall on Maddie. My BFF bitch has the largest grimace I’ve seen in weeks.

  “Come in, you two,” Alondra says. “Make yourselves at home.”

  Make yourselves at home. And Alondra really seems to mean it. Bryce leads me to the kitchen, leaving the other two behind.

  The kitchen is just as lovely as the entryway, with steel stoves, and marble—like real marble—countertops. It’s all tidy and neat. About fifteen people are gathered in a small adjoining dining room, talking and laughing, their voices echoing through the large open spaces.

  “You can help me with the trays,” Bryce says with this amused smile. I catch his eyes straying along my shoulders and down my elegant black dress. It looks like he’s thinking of something other than the trays.

  What’s on your mind, Bryce? … Hope it’s me.

  “Sure,” I say.

  He collects glasses already full of champagne and places them on two trays. “How do you like our class?” he asks.

  “It’s good. I especially like ancient history and medieval times.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “You know, I used to be interested in engineering, but that changed when I saw how much math I’d need to know.” He chuckles. I ogle his lips and that to-die-for strong jawline as he laughs. I freeze for a second. I fight off a blush and hope he doesn’t notice. “I suppose that’s what fascinates me about witch trials,” he says.

  “It’s all…fascinating,” I say. “You really seem to be into Dr. Johansen’s research.”

  He lifts the tray and places it in my hands. I’m extra careful, because my heart is beating so fast staring at those thick biceps, and the last thing I want to do is drop the tray. But Bryce is so cute.

  “Yeah, I am,” Bryce says.

  “What? Do you like the…subject matter? Or is it all Dr. Johansen’s choice?”

  “Well, Alondra loves it. I follow whatever she and Bill want me to study.” He lifts his tray and gestures for me to follow him. “Come. Let’s eat.”

  We walk into the dining room. Everyone’s now sitting, laughing, and talking around a giant antique oak table. Another floor-to-ceiling window looks out onto Alondra’s forest acreage. It’s another mix of traditional and modern—a classic oak table in an open modern room. And in the center of the table is a series of silver containers, likely holding our dinner. Small candles are lined up on a formal white table mat. Most of them are unlit. The silverware, which looks like real polished silver, is laid out beside the pristine white china. It’s so elegant. So classy. So chic.

  As I walk in, I nearly step on a small gray cat. It meows and scurries away. That gets Alondra’s attention.

  “Ah, champagne.” Alondra looks at me. “Cadence, would you be a dear and help Bryce hand out the drinks?”

  “Sure.” Why does she keep addressing me? Why not Maddie? I came here for Maddie, right? But Alondra practically ignored her when we entered her house. That was weird.

  Maddie and Alondra are the only ones with open seats beside them—a seat for me and a seat for Bryce. Everyone is looking at us. Why? Do I look nervous again?

  As we walk along the table, serving drinks, I pass a girl with long black hair, heavy eye shadow, and black lips—the total 1990s goth look. She’s wearing a short skirt with black stockings. She has a large silver lip ring with tattoos lining her forearms and neck. The tattoos are creepy red-and-black skeletons and demons—really dark stuff. She sort of rolls her eyes at me when I nod hello.

  Then there’s an older gentleman
dressed in a suit. This must be Dr. Reardon, another history professor at Hawthorne University. I’ve never met him before. He’s wearing a black suit and thin spectacles. He’s bald with a goatee on his gaunt, wrinkled face. He’s sitting to the left of Alondra. I pass drinks to a few more girls. I see an Asian student, a senior I recognize from class—Jason. He nods. He’s a nice guy. I see him talking to Bryce a lot in school. I think he’s friends with my Prince Charming.

  Prince Charming sits on the other side of Alondra. I catch his eyes wandering toward me. (Or maybe I’m the one who keeps looking at him; I don’t know.) I finish making my rounds of the table, and I serve a drink to my best friend and sit down next to her. Maddie touches my arm for a moment. I turn and she seems almost giddy.

  What’s so funny?

  She’s probably thinking about Bryce. I told her how good looking I think he is. I remember him handing out assignments on the first day of class. Even on the first day, Tall, Dark, and Handsome was smiling at me.

  He’s really cute, you know, with really adorable dimples. He always brushes his hair to perfection. If it’s early in the morning, he slicks it back with gel. His skin is flawless, with a perfect tan. And those eyes, those bright baby-blue eyes. Sometimes… And, anyway…

  “Everyone has their champagne?” Alondra’s staring at me again. “Good.” I just nod. “Now let’s toast.” Her voice is commanding and, like in class, everyone is silent before her. “To life.”