The Years Between

Part 3

To say Lizzie was upset would be an understatement. Her dad cared more about Hope’s grief after the fire than hers over another spring break ruined, her mom hovered around her like she needed to be watched 24/7, cramming facts and suggestions down her throat, Josie suddenly had a bunch of new witch friends without her, the whole school knew she was witch bipolar and started acting like she had the plague, and she was having more and more episodes as doctors kept putting her through new meds, trying to find what works and what doesn’t. 

She took to rewatching the Star Wars movies, obsessively consuming every bit of info she could, memorizing details that had no practical value, but if she was thinking about Jedis and Ewoks, she wasn’t thinking about Hope and rumors.

Except, then the two started to muddle. Lizzie found herself looking at every villain the heroes faced and imagining Hope in their place. Soon, she was writing the fantasies down in her new journal Emma gave her. It was more fun than writing down the real horrors in her life.

…

“I don’t understand,” Josie pouted. “Why are you upset?”

Lizzie sat with her arms crossed. “Because the other witches laughed at me.” 

“So?” 

“So I didn’t like it.” Lizzie gave her sister a weird look. 

“But I just don’t get why you’re sad!”

“I’m not sad.”

“Then you’re mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

It went back and forth like that, Josie listing every emotion she could think of and none of them matching what Lizzie felt. Betrayed. That would’ve been the one. But Josie never suggested that one. 

“I just don’t get it!” Josie threw out her hands. “Just be happy, Lizzie! It’s not that hard!”

Lizzie slammed the door behind her and locked it. 

…

That night, Josie locked the door to their room behind her, tiptoeing to her sister’s side of the room. She knew where Lizzie kept her diary, hidden under her pillow and secured with a locking charm. Josie also knew she could just siphon the spell, unlike any of the other students there. 

She read the entire thing, cover to cover, skipping over the scary parts of Lizzie’s embarrassing fanfiction. She muffled her giggles behind her hand as she went. It wasn’t just embarassing. It was mortifying. Lizzie poured every emotion she’d ever felt onto those pages with no filter, and her innermost thoughts were hilarious to Josie.

When Josie finished, her eyes darted around the room quickly. Lizzie wouldn’t notice if her diary was missing tomorrow, would she? 

…

Josie woke up early in the morning, excitement buzzing all the way down to her toes. She grabbed Lizzie’s diary before her sister woke up and went down to breakfast. In no time, she had a group of witches gathered around her, the new friends who had finally started to notice her for something beyond being the headmasters’ daughter. 

She stood at the head of the table, reading her sister’s chunky handwriting out loud. She didn’t shy away from any of the mortifying details on the page.

“She made Hope the villain!” Alyssa cackled, slapping her hands against the table, her pigtails swaying with each laugh. 

The rest of the witches erupted in giggles, and no one, not even Josie, saw little Hope Marshall standing behind her with wide, teary eyes and a long-forgotten breakfast tray in her hands, echoes of the first time she saw Josie and the witches laughing at her on the playground.

…

Hope pulled on her coat that was still a little too long, and marched out to the woods. It wasn’t fair that Lizzie would write her as the villain. She’d never done anything to the girl! All Hope did was want to be her friend for the last year. In fact, Hope had tried during the week Dr. Saltzman had canceled their spring break because someone lit Hope’s dorm on fire. Hope was desperate for someone on her side after that attack. Lizzie gave her the coldest shoulder that Hope had ever gotten in her life. 

Just the memory of it was enough to make her drop her face into her hands and cry. No, not just cry - sob, loudly and angrily and hard enough that her magic went haywire and started a blaze from a few emotional sparks. Hope watched the tiny flames turn into a full forest fire, remembering the way everything she’d owned had burned, including the only painting she’d ever made with her dad. The flames only got bigger when she panicked and tried to put them out. 

The smoke billowing from the treetops sent Dr. Saltzman running, and then he had sent her off to Emma’s office.

…

“Tell me what you were feeling, Hope,” Emma said. 

“Sad.” Hope crossed her arms and looked at the floor. “And mad.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because Lizzie Saltzman wrote a story about me, and she made me the bad guy.” 

Emma smiled softly. “What if you rewrote the story?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What if you rewrote it and made yourself one of the heroes?” 

“And all of us could be friends and start our own space coven?” Hope’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at Emma, the faintest bit of a smile appearing on her face. It fell just a little as she thought ahead. “But then who would be the bad guy?” 

“I think you should make the bad guy whatever you’re most afraid of.” 

Hope nodded grimly. The Hollow. The Hollow who had taken her family from her.

“And then you and all your friends can find a way to defeat it.” 

“Thanks, Emma.” Hope stood up, nodding determinedly. She had a lot of work ahead of her.