Kent always looks a little tired: he has full custody of the little ball of energy always rocketing around his house, a business he owns and manages, and me always talking in his ear. When he opens the door today, however, I can tell he’s a bit more strained than usual. He and I knew each other long before I walked into the flower shop with my best flannel and my resume. He has a few years on me, but it’s never gotten in the way of our friendship - except, of course, when he goes all dad on me and starts raining down life lessons. Even that I don’t mind too much, though. There are bits of good advice in there sometimes. I’ll admit that.

The point is, I’ve known him long enough to be able to read his facial expressions pretty clearly, even the more subtle ones.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“Come in. I think Aiden’s still in the shower, he might be a minute. He’s been running around all morning trying to cheer up Ellen.”

“What’s wrong with Ellen?” I glance up at the stairs that lead to her room.

“We watched Robin Hood, and now she doesn’t want to be a sheriff anymore,” Kent says, his lips twisting. “It’s been an ongoing crisis ever since last night.”

“Oh, yikes. The Sheriff of Nottingham didn’t impress her?”

“Don’t even say that name in this house right now.” He points at me warningly, backing away towards the kitchen. “Now be quiet and wait for Aiden, I’m on hold with the post office and if I lose my place in line it’ll be the last straw.”

I ponder going up to wait for Aiden on his porch or trying to get another look at that map I failed to photograph a week ago. But also if I walk in on him fresh out of the shower I’m going to be a disaster for the rest of the day, and that’s not an option. I’ll visit someone else.

“Ellen?” I knock gently, in case she’s napping. There’s a silence before her little voice answers.

“Jamie?”

“Hey, bud. Can I come in?”

She pulls open the door, and I blink down at her in surprise. I haven’t seen her out of that sheriff’s costume in so long that it feels downright weird for her to be in plaid, knee-length shorts and a regular t-shirt. The costume itself is on a hanger hooked onto the back of her closet door - evidence of Kent’s orderly hand. She swivels and marches back to her bed, where she climbs up and sits with her arms crossed, pouting.

“Wow. Look at that face! You’d think I did something.” I hop up on the bed next to her. “So we learned that there are bad sheriffs, did we?” She frowns as I knock her gently on the shoulder. “Hey. I know you’re bummed out, but we can still play sheriff games, if you want?”

“Nah. I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m no snitch!” She glares at me. “I want to be one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men.”

“Cool.”

“Can girls be Merry Men? Were there any girls who were?”

“If there weren’t, you’ll just have to be the first.”

“Hmm.” She thinks it over. “I don’t know.” Her face screws up, and suddenly she looks like she might cry. “I don’t know who I want to be next! What if I choose the wrong thing?”

She poses a valid question, and I always think twice about what kind of advice I’m giving Ellen, so that I’m not responsible for her misinterpreting me and setting off a firework in Kent’s kitchen or something. Kids will hear you all kinds of wrong ways, intentionally or otherwise.

“You like hanging out with Aiden, right?”

“No.” She sticks out her tongue and scrunches her face up, then adds, a little shyly: “Yes.”

“I do, too. Did you know he was a total di- uh, dingleberry, when we were kids?”

“What! No.”

“Yes! But he’s awesome now, right? It’s because he decided he wanted to be someone better. So he worked hard to figure out who that version of himself was. He’s still figuring it out. We all are. You just do your best to be your truest self. If that’s a sheriff or a Merry Man or whatever. As long as you feel good about it, and you’re doing good by others, everything will work out.” I poke her stomach, and she giggles. “For the record, if you want to be just Ellen for a while, you can do that, too. You don’t have to be Sheriff Ellen or Merry Man Ellen or anything extra if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the one who told me it never hurts to be extra.”

“Good girl, remembering my advice!” I place a delighted hand over my heart, and raise the other for a high five, winning another giggle from Ellen. She finally breaks into a full smile.

“Maybe I’ll be an astronaut next,” she muses, pressing her finger to her lip.

“Right on! We can play alien invaders. Watch out!” I grab the sides of her mattress and give it a shake, sending us both bouncing. “The ship is going into hyperspace!”

She laughs wildly, clinging on tight.

“Or maybe I’ll be a witch, like Aiden!”

It takes me a moment to realize what she said.

“What?” I release my hold on the bed, staring at her. “What’d you say, Ellen?”

“I said maybe I should be a witch, like Aiden!” She can clearly see the confusion she’s caused, because she adds: “Didn’t you know? He can do magic!”

“Now wait a damn minute-”

“Wow, you guys are hanging out without me?” Aiden’s voice startles me, and I whip around to face him. He’s stopped in Ellen’s doorway, his hair still damp and his blue eyes soft and smiling. “Kent said you were here.” His gaze flicks to Ellen. “I see someone isn’t in full sad-face mode anymore. What were you guys talking about?”

“Oh, um,” I begin, but Ellen immediately jumps in.

“Jamie said you used to be a dingleberry when you were a kid.”

“A dingleberry?” Aiden’s eyebrows lift, and he shifts his amused gaze back to me. “A shockingly harsh choice of words, Jamie. I’ve never heard such language in my life.”

“I’m only repeating what I’ve heard around the halls,” I answer, examining my fingernails, trying to seem unflustered. Ellen’s words are on repeat in my head, throwing me off my balance.

“Time to head out, right?” Aiden points at his watch. After a quick goodbye to Ellen, we’re down the stairs and to my car, strapping in and pulling away. Aiden flips on some quiet music, makes an appreciative comment about the two fresh caramel macchiatos in the cup holders, and then Kent’s house is in the rearview.

This means that I only have one option: to do my best to let go of what Ellen said, at least for now. Defeat my curiosity with self-control. Remain calm and cool with Aiden until I can get back to Ellen for more details. An incredible display of self-restraint. I can do self-restraint. Sometimes. Sort of.

“Hey.” We pull up to a red light, and I twist in my seat to look at him. “So, Ellen thinks you’re a witch. What’s up with that?”

~~~~

Aiden stares at me, his blue eyes wide and surprised.

“Uh, what?”

“Ellen just told me she thinks she might want to be a witch next. Like you. She said you can do magic.”

I have no idea what I expected him to say to that, but I didn’t think he’d start laughing. He tips his head back against the seat, smiling.

“Oh, wow. You do one trick in front of a kid and suddenly you can do magic. This is basically how the Salem witch trials started.” He takes a coin out of my cupholder and expertly rolls it over the back of his fingers, then holds up an empty hand. “Boom. See? I’m a witch now.”

“Hmm.” I flick on my blinker. “I feel like Ellen would know that’s not real magic. She’s smart for a nine-year-old.”

“What are you saying, you actually think I’m a witch?” Aiden is half-laughing, but he sees the serious look on my face. “Jamie. Are you really going to make me say it? I’m not a witch.”

I root around for some thread of falseness in his voice and come up empty.

“Fine. You’re not a witch. Can you do magic?”

“What is happening right now?” Aiden eyes me with his brows furrowed, no longer laughing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just -” I hesitate, then blurt out: “I tried to take a picture of that map you’re always carrying around. I’m sorry. I’ve felt bad about it since I did it. I shouldn’t have been sneaking around messing with your stuff. But you won’t tell me why you’re always carrying it around with you, and afterwards all the photos disappeared from my phone. It was just really weird.”

Aiden stares at me in silence for a moment, and then glances away.

“Oh.”

“I’m really sorry!” Jesus, I’m so flustered. I really am bad at keeping secrets. It’s amazing that he hasn’t figured out how very into him I am. “It’s just - why do you take that map around with you everywhere? You seem like you know how to get around.”

“It’s fine, I get it.” He smiles at me again, and relief instantly warms my heart. “It’s nothing weird, you could have just asked me. I’m trying to map out some of the locations from the photos from work. I have to enter a lot of information with each scan.”

“What about the stuff with my phone?”

“I don’t know. Did you try restarting it?”

Of course there’s a perfectly logical explanation. Part of me feels like a stupid ass, and part of me still doesn’t feel totally sure. I can’t shake the memory of the chill that raced down my back when Kasey and I found one of the map’s locations.

“Do you, um.” Aiden is looking out of the window, not at me. “Believe in all that stuff? Witches, magic, whatever?”

I could tell him that the ghost in my apartment is the one who suggested I take the pictures of his map in the first place, but I decide against it. He’s gonna think I’m nuts. I would have thought I was nuts, before second-life Kasey showed up.

“No, of course I don’t. Duh.” I keep my eyes on the road, which is easier than looking at Aiden when I’m lying to him. Now it feels like we’re both avoiding looking at each other. I cast around for an explanation. “I’m just in a weird frame of mind. I’ve been having this dream over and over again and it’s messing with my head a little bit.”

“Oh, yeah?” Aiden smiles at me, though there’s a tightness to it that’s not quite normal. “Is it the one you told me about where you ran a farm full of dogs?”

Of course he remembers that. I told him about it like three weeks ago in passing, but his memory for stuff I tell him is really impressive. And I have no compunctions about telling him all my dreams - except for the tree one, which is too weird, and a few I’ve had about him, which would make things weird.

“The farm of dogs is the dream, not a dream I had. And I’ll make that happen yet. Just need to get Angie on board.”

“So?”

“It’s nothing. I just keep dreaming about this tree.”

“You even dream in plants?” Aiden is smiling for real, now.

“A specific tree. It’s the weirdest thing, but it feels like I’m walking around some old version of Ketterbridge, watching these three ladies plant a sapling.”

“What?” Aiden twists to look at me so quickly that I start and stare back at him.

“It’s no big deal. I think the photos are just stuck in my head.”

“That’s interesting,” Aiden mutters, more to himself than to me. He shakes his head, clears his throat. “Anyway. I’m sorry you’re having restless sleep. Can I help?”

Oh, yes, I almost say.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll just keep having my bizarre visions. Like, um, the virgin priestesses at Delphi.”

Aiden raises his eyebrows.

“Okay…”

“Anyways, it’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t answer. I can tell when he’s drifting into his thoughts. Sometimes I let him go, and sometimes I pull him back. I’m not sure what to do, because this is the strangest conversation we’ve probably ever had, and I don’t know what to make of it. The way his face is screwed up right now you’d think it was his fault.

“Hey.” I pop him one on the shoulder. “What are we even talking about right now? This is what happens when something Ellen said directs our conversation.”

“You’re right.” He smiles, and the cloud that had formed behind his eyes seems to dissipate. “Let’s talk about something else. Where are you taking me?”

“My parent’s house.”

Aiden’s smile freezes.

“Your parent’s house?”

“What’s that face?” Have I made some blunder without realizing it? “Do you not want to? It’s just I normally go see them on Sundays, and I didn’t want to blow them off but you and I didn’t get to hang out yesterday and that was bummer balls so I thought you could just come with me and it would be -”

“Jamie. How do you even speak for that long without stopping for a breath?” Aiden presses his fingers to his brow bone.

“Why are you so worked up? I know they’ll like you.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I like you, so why wouldn’t they?”

Aiden seems ready to argue, but instead he lapses into silence, a smile flickering over his face and vanishing quickly. He presses a hand over his mouth.

“You could’ve told me,” he says, fidgeting with his seatbelt. “I would’ve worn something different.”

I glance over at his outfit. A lot of things are different about Aiden, but one thing that’s stayed the same is his preference for a pair of loose soccer shorts and a t-shirt. Today he’s in maroon shorts that stop around his knees and a white, long-sleeved shirt with the name of some sports team printed on the back. He’s also got on a backwards, dark grey snapback, which he takes off to run his hand through his hair in that stressed-out way he does.

“Embarrassed of how hairy your legs are?”

“They’re not that hairy,” he protests, leaning forward to look at them. “Are they?”

“No, I was joking. They’re, um, the correct level of hairy. I guess.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Why are you so stressed, and who cares what you’re wearing? It’s going to be fine. My parents are nice. I mean, they’re a lot.”

“I have to assume so, they raised you.”

“Anyways, relax. They’ll love you. If anything, this will be embarrassing for me. My mom might even show you-” I shudder. “Baby photos.”

“Oh, that’s - I hadn’t considered that.” Aiden puts a finger to his chin. “Tell me there are really bad ones.”

“One is a print out from a security camera, and I’m not even joking.”

“That is a story I’m going to need to hear.”

“My dad will tell you, don’t worry.” We pull up outside of the house, and I put the car in park. “So… are we going in? If you want I can call and tell them that the flower shop burned down or something.”

Aiden’s low laugh is becoming one of my favorite sounds in the world, I swear. I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my chest filling with those hopeless flutters I can’t kick. He adjusts his hat and opens his mouth to say something just as the door of my parent’s house flies open.

“Spending the whole day in the car, are we?” my dad hollers, cupping a hand around his mouth. “You boys afraid of the footpath, or what?”

Aiden and I turn to look at each other.

“Well,” he says. “It looks like we’re going in.”