The Ivy Witch

anemone

(anticipation)

The next morning, Rosa arrived to school tired but deep in thought as she considered her new dead friend.

Rachel. Rachel and her death, why it happened and whether or not Rosa wanted to know. Every time she thought about Rachel's bittersweet smile, she wondered if the truth would help Rachel find closure. That's how this ghost thing worked, right?

She definitely needed to do research, but she doubted her school would have books about ghosts that weren't placed neatly under the "Horror" sign in the library.

Oh well, she thought, trading in textbook for textbook at her locker. She could just learn as she went. It might be a little tactless to pester a dead person about how they "lived", but Rosa just wanted to help, so it was okay, right? Rosa's concentrated frown smoothed out as she felt someone's eyes on her.

As she settled into her seat, Rosa shifted her mound of papers before whipping herself around to meet the finely arched brow's of Taylor, her best friend.

"Hey chica," Taylor yawned, a coil of dark-coppery hair bouncing to the front of her hair with more enthusiasm than both girls combined. Taylor's hair was the prettiest Rosa had possibly ever seen; it had a unique ruddy brown color and springiness about it as a result of her mixed Irish- African roots. It was untamable, much like the girl it originated from.

"Mornin'," Rosa greeted. She prodded her tired brain for conversation starters and landed on the same as most mornings: complaints. As Rosa spoke, Taylor slowly let her attention drift. Rosa paused abruptly and poked her friend's side, right where she knew it tickled.

Taylor's passive face scrunched into a scowl. "Hey!" Rosa's hand was swatted away without a glance. Rosa followed her line of sight, which appeared to be lazer-focused right above her left shoulder and began to turn her head when Taylor hissed. "Don't," she said under her breath.

Rosa's head swiveled back. She felt her eyebrows float up impatiently, waiting for some sort of explanation.

Taylor's eyes narrowed, daring, and quickly tore away from her target. "A certain someone was drilling holes in the back of your head."

"What?!" Rosa whipped her head around, just in time to see a dusty-brown head disappear into a crowd of friends and barking laughs. "Phillip?"

Taylor hummed thoughtfully. "Now what did little ol' you do to offend our dear higher-ups? A nice one at that." Nice looking as well, Rosa could her in her tone.

Rosa racked her brain, trying to think of the last time she had even talked to Phillip. It was at least a week ago, an awkward, brief, mostly one-sided conversation carried by him while Rosa wondered why he would talk to her of all people.

It wasn't that he was mean, just the kind of cool that seemed above people like her and her friends. He was just the relaxed, outgoing student that would reach out to everyone around him. Instead of, you know, paying attention, he preferred to drag others down alongside him with chatter. Thankfully, he only reached out for her when they were conveniently sat next to each other.

"Nothing," Rosa replied immediately. "Nothing that I know of, at least." Did ignoring him count?

Taylor rose a single eyebrow yet again, her half smile dripping with a doubtful "sure, honey".

Rosa ignored this and slumped onto her desk with a groan.

"You okay?" Taylor asked. "You didn't stay up too late writing that paper, did you?"

A small grunt was given in response as Rosa tried to rub away the bags under her eyes. "Maybe." Among other things. Homework, talking to her dad, meeting with a dead girl, promising to keep said dead girl company. The usual.

"You care way too much," Taylor said evenly.

Rosa even couldn't argue.

Taylor's eyes suddenly brightened "Oh! You'll never guess what happened the other day..."
It was her usual starter, as Rosa would know. She heard every story, and there were quite a few. Taylor was just one of those people that crazy things just happened to happen to. Settling in with her current distraction, she could take a break from thinking about the death of Rachel and her schoolwork. It was temporary, but it was something.
Rosa refused to add Phillip's staring to her list.

/-/-/

After the school day ended as she had been eagerly awaiting all day, Rosa walked home from the bus stop with purposeful strides. She had a lot to do if she wanted to visit Rachel again, this time while it wasn't the dead of night. Losing more sleep than necessary wasn't something she liked to make a habit of.

When she got home, her dad was still at work, per usual and her mom was still gone (unsurprisingly), but her grandmother was waiting for her.

"Hey!" She shouted, letting her bag, heavy with homework, hit the tiled flooring with a thud.

"Hi, Rosita," her grandmother called back from the living room, where she sat humming to herself while reorganizing the shelves, setting up displays for her run-in-home shop.

Rosa raked her eyes over the various healing crystals and plants labeled with their uses. "I like it so far."

"Thank you. Will you grab the camera, please?"

Rosa cradled the camera in her hand. "Full shot, or just sections today?"

Her grandmother waved her hand, giving Rosa permission to do whatever she wanted. Rosa squatted down and tried to find a good angle to take a picture of the rustic shelves. She paused as the light from the window streamed through in beams, giving the crystals and herbs a golden glow. Perfect.

The photos were for her grandmother's business, that they (Rosa) advertised online. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be much business in their small town, but her grandmother managed to find superstitious people elsewhere. It helped that her mother carried around business cards when she traveled, handing them out to her clients. After all, if someone was willing to see a band of psychics, they would most likely fork over some more cash for her grandmother's goods.

Her grandmother insisted that all witches had specialties, just like normal people had more mundane talents. While she made charms and incense, Rosa's mother read the future for strangers all over the country, along with her friends that focused on the past and present. And Rosa? She didn't have powers at all.

The ability to use witchcraft was hereditary, but it had skipped over Rosa, which was fine by her. She could be normal, like her dad. They had more in common anyways.

Rosa and her dad were as close as could be, a duo that loved to do everything together, which meant they also shared the unfortunate habit of burning the midnight oil to get their work done. As Rosa glared at essays, her dad typed away at a laptop. They had matching tired grins every morning. Since he worked at the police station, he wouldn't be home until later that evening. Rosa was already looking forward to it.

With this in mind, Rosa said goodbye to her grandmother and began to complete her homework. It was tiring, but Rosa had proper motivation for the first time in weeks, and no essays. Once science and math were done, she left French out and started walking.

Fiddling with her leather cord bracelets with twin crystals for foresight and protection, she once again looked up at the ivy covered brick of Rachel's house. This time, she opened the door herself.