A Magical Bond | 11

Before Sione knew it, he quickly found his rejuvenated relationship with Britta heating up, accelerating at a pace he wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with. But as long as he was with Britta, he wasn't thinking about Cassie - or was at least able to think about Cassie less - so he soon found himself giving in without much hesitation to Britta's less-than-subtle hints that they should take things to the next level. Maybe he would even end up enjoying it as much as she so clearly wanted him to.

But, in the end, even though there was no part of the experience he could point to as being technically wrong, he only felt guilty and regretful. As he watched Britta crawl out from beneath the covers and stretch contentedly, a satisfied smile on her face, the negative feelings boiling up from the pit of his stomach only grew stronger. He couldn't put her through this. He had to tell her the truth, and the longer he put off doing so, the more hurt and disappointed she would be. Though still painful and awkward, it would be better to pull off the band-aid right away.

"What do you mean, you don't think it's going to work out?" Britta exclaimed, clearly upset, after he'd fumbled his way through a half-hearted attempt at explaining things. "That was amazing... wasn't it? You seemed into it! What did I do wrong? Oh, God, this is so humiliating." She buried her head in her hands as tears started leaking from her eyes.

"Britta, this isn't your fault. It's all on me, I promise. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and that's the whole point. You deserve to find someone better, someone who really loves you. Because I think I might be in love with somebody else."

She gasped and scrambled out of bed, casting her eyes around the room for the rest of her clothes. Sione cringed internally. It was his fault she wanted to get out of this room - and likely entirely forget he existed - as quickly as possible. He'd made her feel small and embarrassed, and he hated that he'd even let it get this far. "You're cheating on me?" she asked tearfully, her breathy voice muffled by her hands.

"No, I would never do that," he insisted, determined to hold onto at least a single shred of his humanity. "She's not here. I don't even know where she is right now, and she has no idea how I really feel. I didn't realize it myself until after she was gone. It's possible nothing might ever happen between us, but even if that ends up being true, it's not fair of me to use you as a stand-in until I know for sure."

"It's your roommate, isn't it?" Sione nodded guiltily. "I should've known. You've been friends forever. How could I possibly compare?"

"Don't say that, Britta. I think you're an amazing-" But she had already gathered up her clothing and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She didn't want to hear another word from him, and he undoubtedly deserved to be cut off.

Yet again, he found himself swearing an oath inside his own head: Sione, you selfish asshole, you will not even speak to another girl until you get your shit sorted out, and I fucking mean it this time. Instead, he distracted himself the only way he knew how: by living and breathing for his work. Now that he'd experienced the satisfaction of winning the utili-bot contest with Martin by his side, he wanted to prove himself as a solo engineer and had started constructing his own customized Servo.

It took weeks to source all the parts and weld and wire them together into a form vaguely reminiscent of a living, breathing human, weeks during which Sione forged ahead blindly, uncertain whether or not it would all come together in the end. It seemed just as likely that he might only succeed in blowing the lab and himself up into unrecognizable smithereens. When he could finally no longer justify putting the moment of truth off another day, he crossed his fingers and toes, took a deep breath, and pulled down on the activation lever with all his might.

It wasn't clear who was more surprised when his creation sprung successfully to life: Sione or the Servo itself. Sione had programmed the Servo's "brain" with such a comprehensive sampling of vocabulary and grammar and sentence construction that, if all had gone to plan, it should be capable of carrying out full-fledged AI-fueled conversations. At the moment, though, they were both far too stunned to speak a single syllable.

With so many grueling hours devoted to the lab, Sione had let any semblance of a fitness routine (which he'd barely committed to before) fall by the wayside. But now that his work was finished, his body urged him outdoors, where he took to the sidewalks to jog away the kinks in his aching muscles and fill up his lungs with fresh air. During his early morning sojourns, he was briefly able to empty his mind, letting the autopilot in his body take over.

It must've been his body then that led him to Cassie's former stomping grounds: the mysterious ring of mushrooms that occupied the heart of Britechester's crumbling ruins. It was empty now, of course. It'd be easy to assume that hardly anyone even passed through here, let alone used the space as a haven for performing secret rituals. He still didn't fully understand what all of that had been about, but he figured it had something to do with Cassie's relentless thirst for real magic, and that whatever she was doing now was somehow also in service of her lifelong belief that there had to be more to the world than what appeared to the average human eye. He wasn't sure if he could bring himself to believe in any of that, but he hoped that, wherever she was, she would find what she was after - and, most importantly, that she was happy. Above all, he wanted her to be happy, even as he wished that she would come back soon.

Cassie was happy in Windenburg. In fact, she felt far more content and settled there than she ever had anywhere else. In Windenburg, she didn't have to contend with gossiping classmates, dull as dishwater lectures, encroaching term paper deadlines, or - most of all - her confusing and awkward and freakishly stubborn feelings for Sione. For the first time in her life, she was fully on her own and loving every minute of it. Each unstructured day blurred blissfully into the next. She could do anything she wanted! She could grow her own tiny herb and flower garden.

She could practice yoga while admiring the most serenely picturesque views of nature she had ever seen, so peaceful and still that she could observe her surroundings for hours without even a single human being crossing her sight line.

She could bake breads and pastries and pies and cookies to her heart's content, working her way methodically through the stack of dusty old cookbooks from decades past she'd found languishing in the back of a cupboard.

On those rare occasions when she finally grew a little stir-crazy inside that big, empty vacation house, she ventured out to town on her bike. Even though it, too, was quaint and quiet, if she'd gone long enough between visits, it was almost like an alien world with its cobblestone sidewalks and street vendors and closely-packed rows of townhouses. Rejoining society, even after just a few days of solitude, felt like something akin to being pushed into the deep end of a pool without warning - it took some adjusting to acclimate to one's surroundings enough to stay afloat.

Usually, the jolt of caffeine provided by a steaming latte did the trick. At the downtown cafes, Cassie couldn't help but mentally compare their pastry offerings to her own homemade concoctions. In her humble opinion, her own baking almost always took the cake. She wondered idly if any of them were hiring. As idyllic as her summer had been so far, she was faintly aware, in the darkest, deepest reaches of her mind, that she was starting to run out of money. After all, baking ingredients hardly paid for themselves!

She decided to make another go of it with her paintings. Come rain or shine, people must always be on the lookout for interesting art to add to their collections, right?

To her surprise, she also found herself actually putting all of those horrid violin classes to use. She would never be anywhere near a virtuoso, but she could at least play competently enough to earn a fair amount in tips while busking at the local park. It was a modest living, but since she only had herself to feed, it was enough to get by.

Once she'd gotten her fill of Windenburg proper, though, it was back to her verdant countryside oasis, where she picked wildflowers while she patiently waited for her own garden to begin showing signs of life.

She'd found an old fishing pole in a downtown thrift shop and decided she'd try her hand at that, too. Despite growing up surrounded by water, it was an activity that was almost entirely new to her. But if she started catching more of her food, she'd have to worry even less about making money!

In the end, though, the one tiny goldfish she did manage to hook was just so darn cute and looked so sad struggling for air on the end of her pole that she had no choice but to keep it. She named it Goldie and plopped it into a fishbowl that she placed on the vanity in the guest bedroom.

Weeks passed, until it was finally time for a visit from Katy, who was full of juicy celeb gossip she'd been accumulating during her shifts working the front desk at her parents' swanky Del Sol Valley hotel. Having already spent the morning making a tray full of peanut butter cookies in anticipation of Katy's arrival, Cassie was in the middle of mixing up batter for a batch of cupcakes when she burst through the front door without knocking.

"Girl, these things are going to kill my waistline!" she exclaimed, picking up a cupcake as soon as Cassie was done frosting them. She could barely contain herself from shoving the entire thing into her mouth in one go.

"Nobody's forcing you to eat any of it," Cassie replied.

Katy rolled her eyes, licking frosting from her fingers. "Please," she mumbled through a half-chewed mouthful of cake. "As if anyone could resist your immaculate baking. What do you lace these things with, anyway? Are you sure you haven't already discovered how to harness the full power of your magic to concoct the most delectable and addicting morsels known to man?"

Cassie smiled modestly. "Thanks. It's been a minute since I've had anyone around to lavish me with praise."

Katy's casual reference to magic reminded Cassie of a fact she had almost managed to forget, the Windenburg countryside having lulled her into a state of pleasant complacency: the whole point of her being here was to begin the arduous task of tracking down that godforsaken Door. She'd done a bit of vague online research in her first few days but had barely gotten anywhere, which was ostensibly why Katy was here, to offer a helping hand. But, first, she insisted they have a proper girls' day in, filled with nothing but pizza, wine coolers, manicures, and facials - no talk of magic allowed.

"I'm so glad you let me talk you into changing up your hair," Katy told her as they snacked on pizza and waited for the chemicals slathered all over their scalps to work. "You're going to look uh-mazing!"

Cassie was skeptical. "I wish you would've at least let me see the color. What if it totally clashes with my complexion?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Katy said, laughing. "But, trust me, you're about to become a whole new woman. Once I dyed my hair for the first time, there was no going back. I was never fully myself until that moment!"

Naturally, Katy's hair turned out a brilliant shade of electric blue that suited her just as well as her formerly pink 'do. Then again, she had such easy confidence and natural charisma that Cassie thought she could probably pull off just about any color she wanted. Cassie was less certain, however, that she herself was capable of pulling off whatever wild hue Katy had chosen for her. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror for several agonizingly long minutes, trying to work up the courage to witness her brand new reflection. "Come on, girl! What's taking you so long?" Katy called impatiently through the door. At the exact moment she finally decided to barge in, Cassie opened her eyes and screamed at what she saw.

"What have you done to me?" she shrieked, stunned/horrified by the barely recognizable vision of herself before her but unable to peel her eyes away. "Do you know how unfathomably cool you have to be to rock full-on peroxide blond? I am not at that level of cool, Katy! Maybe you are, but I'm, like, chunky blond highlights cool at best. You really believed I could pull this off?"

Katy's hands flew to her face in a subconsciously protective gesture. "Okay, first of all, take a deeeeeep breath," she said, demonstratively exaggerating a long inhale and exhale of her own. "Of course it doesn't look cool now, but that's only because the hair is just the first step! Babe, you and I both know you're in need of a major fashion overhaul."

Cassie opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, insulted but unable to form an adequate rebuttal. Okay, so maybe she didn't have the most exciting or sophisticated sense of style in the world, but she didn't dress that badly, did she? She just preferred to be comfortable, as any sane human being would! What was so wrong with that?

"Which is why," Katy continued when Cassie failed to defend herself, "you're going to let me take you out to the shops right this minute and help you pick out the perfect outfit to complement your new look. Then we'll come home, get totally glammed up, go shake our asses in the club, make all the boys drool, et cetera, et cetera, and you'll find out exactly how hot you really are!"

It all sounded terribly anxiety-provoking and potentially next-level mortifying, but Cassie knew Katy wouldn't take no for an answer. She grudgingly muttered her acquiescence, and Katy pumped her fist in response, but the gesture seemed half-hearted, like Cassie's undisguised lack of enthusiasm was suddenly making her second guess her entire theory that hotness was even a state she was capable of attaining.

Regardless, they were soon strolling through Windenburg's more modern business district, which Cassie hadn't even bothered exploring in all her weeks spent on her own. Its rows of sleek, multi-story buildings occupied by trendy boutiques and hipster restaurants was such a far cry from the quaintness of Old Town and the quietness of the countryside that it almost gave her culture shock.

"I don't understand what's so horrible about what I wear," she whined morosely, having spent the entire taxi ride over only half-listening to Katy's exhaustive plan to extract the New Sexy Cassie from wherever she must surely be hiding deep down inside. She'd sounded like she was a modern-day Frankenstein intent on building her own (impossibly stylish) monster out of dubious, disparate parts.

"For one thing," Katy began, the vaguely disgusted tone of her voice telling Cassie she had a very long list of formal complaints to lodge, "those godawful sneakers you wear every damn day are an indisputable fashion crime!"

"What's wrong with my shoes? I've had them since I was in high school, and they're still holding up."

Katy rolled her eyes. "Exactly. Those things are so ancient in fashion years that they're practically from the Dark Ages! They were dreadfully off-trend then, and they're even more painfully outdated now."

"Well, doesn't everything old eventually come back around? In a couple years, I guarantee they'll be the height of fashion again!"

"I very sincerely doubt it," Katy dead-panned, cocking a single incredulous eyebrow.

Sensing that she wasn't getting anywhere with sarcasm and barely-veiled insults, Katy switched tactics, suddenly becoming the picture of sincerity. No one could say she wasn't squeezing her money's worth out of Britechester's renowned drama program. "I am begging you," she said dramatically, stopping just short of falling down on her knees, "to indulge me just this once. If you hate it, you hate it, and I promise you'll never hear another word from me about your style choices again."

Cassie heaved a belabored sigh. "Fine, I give in." She gestured broadly toward the spread of chic storefronts laid out before them. "Since you're the expert and all, lead the way." Katy smirked and turned to skip down the sidewalk with a satisfied bounce in her step.

All told, it only took a couple hours for Katy to locate what she deemed the perfect dress (one which Cassie thought was entirely too small, too clingy, and too flashy); a couple more hours for her to positively spackle Cassie's face in foundation, slather her lashes in mascara, and smear her lips with sticky gloss; and a full hour freezing their asses off in line to get in before they finally graced the gaudy and deafeningly bass-boosted Discothèque Pan Europa with their presences.

Cassie kept her arms crossed tightly across her chest, palms hugging her shoulders protectively, and Katy tugged at her elbows until she finally relented and lowered her shield. "Stop trying to hide!" she demanded, like a teacher chastising a misbehaving child. "You look hot as fuck, babe. You can't tell me you don't feel like a total sex bomb right now."

Cassie laughed and felt a blush rise into her cheeks. She didn't want to give Katy the satisfaction of having been right all along, but she also couldn't deny that she felt good. She wasn't about to start exclusively wearing teeny-tiny dresses and waking up early every morning to put on a full face of products, but Katy's makeover had revealed a different side of herself, and she didn't entirely hate it. "Okay, maybe a little bit," was all she was willing to admit out loud.

They packed like sardines onto the crowded dance floor, and soon Cassie was sweaty enough to be thankful for the thin, flimsy barrier between the fabric of her dress and her skin. If she were wearing anything heavier, her entire body would have been unbecomingly drenched within minutes. Katy's attention almost immediately shifted to scoping out every attractive 20-something male within their periphery, her laser-focused eyes ensnaring them like flies caught in a spiderweb. "Is it just me, or has that guy been checking me out for the past 10 minutes straight?" she asked over her shoulder in a conspiratorial shout-whisper. "You think I should throw him a bone?"

The question was a rhetorical one. She'd already made up her mind before she'd even asked. "Oh, forget it," she said hastily. "I'm going in! Wish me luck." And just like that she was gliding effortlessly toward him.

"Wait!" Cassie hissed. "You can't just leave me here. I have no idea what I'm doing!" But it was no use. Katy was already long gone, and she was left to flail around clumsily on her own. It may have only taken a few hours to achieve a dramatic exterior transformation, but changing her personality to go along with it would be a much more complicated - and potentially impossible - task. Inside, she was still the same indecisive and self-conscious girl, far too pathetically hung up on someone who had let her down time and time again to throw herself into the arms of the first willing guy she crossed paths with.

She ordered a drink from the bar and stole a table of her own across from where Katy and her chosen target were having a far-from-subtle flirt-a-thon as if they were the only two people in the world. But Cassie didn't mind serving as Katy's awkward third wheel for the same reason she'd also decided she didn't mind serving as her fashion charity case: because it made Katy happy, and if Katy was happy, she'd be far more amenable to playing eager sidekick as Cassie worked to achieve her true mission for the summer, the one she'd now kept on the back burner for far too long: locating that elusive Door from her dreams so that she could finally enter the Magic Realm and reclaim every last ounce of the power she just knew, deep down, was rightfully hers to conquer.