The Book at the Top of the Closet

Chapter Nineteen

I've been on the phone with my dad for nearly an hour. Apparently, since I hadn't called my parents at all this week, they decided to call me, only when I didn't answer, they assumed something was horribly wrong. In addition to the barrage of voicemails and texts, they apparently also called every hospital, morgue, and sheriff's office in every county within semi reasonable driving distance of campus.

They're completely dysfunctional.

I'm still reassuring my dad that yes, I am okay, and yes, he and mom are still my emergency contacts. They would know if something actually happened to me. I promise him this at least six times before he moves on to the lecturing stage. Halfway into his speech about how he and mom pay my phone bills and that entitles them to hear from me once in a while, I finally just crack.

"Dad, just stop. I didn't go off the grid, I didn't screen your calls on purpose, I turned my phone off for ONE AFTERNOON to spend time with my friends. I am an adult. You can't just go calling every hospital in the state everytime I miss calls from you. And you shouldn't be calling thirty thousand times anyway!" He starts to interrupt, but I continue. "A reasonable person calls once, and waits for the other person to return the call. I'm not going to get back to you any faster just because you blew up my phone. You made me think there was an emergency just because you were upset that I didn't answer right away and that's not okay." I try to keep my voice level, willing myself not to sink into anxiety mode.

"Well I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere so-"

"No, you didn't. You thought I didn't answer my phone right the minute you wanted me to, and you threw a fit about it." Now I just sound bitchy. I hate that. But my heart basically stopped when I saw all those voicemails, and now it's either bitchy, or weepy, there is no third option.

"I need to be able to reach you."

"You are able to reach me. When I am available. But sometimes I'm in class, or busy, and you have to accept that. When I graduate, it isn't like you'll be able to call me in the middle of the day, anyway. I've got my own stuff going on now. Can you please just agree not to call a hundred times if I don't pick up?"

"Fine. But your mom and I expect to hear from you at least every now and then."

"That's fine. I'll text you and let you know I'm alive every few days, and I'll call you when I actually have time to talk. Deal?"

"I love you." Great, he sounds emotional now. If I get all weepy, I'll end up agreeing to call every day instead. I've gotta wrap this up.

"I love you too, Dad. Are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

#

Later that night, I sit curled on my bed, reading Aria's journal. I flip back over some of the old entries and read back through the ones I've already read before until I catch up to where I'm at, trying to piece together how long it's been since the journal was written. Judging by some of the entries, it couldn't have been that long ago. Someone on campus must still remember her, right?

I send Wendy a text, catching her up on my weird night and asking how she's doing after our picnic went sideways. She texts back that she's okay, that she hadn't really thought of us as exclusive or anything. I breathe a little sigh of relief. After a little small talk and flirting I tell her about the journal. Nothing super specific, just that it belonged to someone who was interested in magic, and that I'm curious whether anyone on campus knows anything about her.

Wendy seems intrigued by the journal and the mystery, and she offers to ask her friends if any of them remember someone named Aria coming to any of their magic related meetings. I practically hold my breath, waiting to hear back.

After what seems like hours, my phone buzzes. I read over the text, my heart speeding up when I see what it says.

Apparently Aria used to hang around, like, a lot. She'd bring in artwork and sigils, and she even talked about starting an official student organization for pagans on campus. Then out of nowhere she just stopped showing up, and when she came back, she gave everyone goodbye presents and said she wasn't enrolling for the next semester. Pretty weird, right?

Weird doesn't even cut it. From the sound of the journals, it didn't really seem like she had that long left before graduation. Why would she just leave like that? I think back to the horrible comments on my pictures earlier today. Maybe someone really did scare her off. If she was going to group activities and thinking about starting a pagan student group, it's possible she got harassed in person as well as online. I can't even imagine how scary and stressful that would be, and it definitely seems like a valid reason to be uncomfortable coming back to school.

I thank Wendy for digging up information for me, and tell her I'm going to try and study a bit before bed. The truth is, I really need to pull an all-nighter. My study session with Liam the other day was helpful, but I'm still way behind on the readings for my literature class. I could probably pull off a solid C without being completely caught up, but it's my favorite class, and I want to do my best, even with so much else going on. Actually, all this intrigue is even more reason to throw myself into my studies. The last thing I want to do is dwell on Aria's mysterious departure until I worry myself sick.

​ Still, I decide to read one more entry in the journal, just to remind myself that Aria is out there somewhere, being witchy and awesome. I like to imagine that she'd be proud of me and how much I've learned about witchcraft this year. I settle in, propped up with pillows and piled under blankets, with books for class piled beside me and Aria's journal in my hands. It's time to get this all-nighter started.

#

Dear Diary,

I will not think about Hayden, I will not think about Hayden, I will not think about Hayden. I will want only what I can have. I will want only what I can have.

What I can have is a drink.

-Aria

Dear Diary,

Hayden and I have been trying to be friends again. He really ought to know better than to flirt with an ex. It's cruel at worst, and confusing at best. I don't think he means to hurt me, he just defaults to flirty and charming, I think. Still, sometimes I half think he drives me crazy on purpose. He texted me first today, and I basically squealed out loud. In class. I don't think anyone buys that I was just that excited about art history.

-Aria

#

Dear Diary,

Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl, and the boy drove the girl crazy. The end.

-Aria

#

Dear Diary,

Hayden has been nervous all week, sending out applications to colleges he wants to go to for graduate school. Despite my pining for him, or perhaps because of them, I've been anxiously rooting for him. I even spent the afternoon today doing a luck spell to try and help him get into his school of choice. I have a little cord bracelet tied around my wrist as a reminder of the spell. The energy for the spell comes from the energy I expend for the next couple of weeks- I essentially committed my own life force to the spell. It should be extra powerful, especially with the bracelet there as a focus. I can't help but second-guess myself a little though. Am I really so serious about Hayden that I would experiment with such an intense spell?

-Aria