The Pianist

Chapter Sixteen: First Sleepover

"Phillipe, I am not having a fucking sleepover with you," Dan said. I let out a dramatic sigh.

"How do you think I'm gonna perform the ritual unless it's the middle of the night, then?" I told him.

"Just put my blood in a fucking vial or somethin', I don't give a fuck what you do with it, Phil!" He exclaimed. This is exactly why I never told anyone about my magick before, they just seriously do not get it.

"It won't work unless the blood is fresh out of the veins, Daniel!" I explained, "I need you to cut yourself with me, when the moon is out!" I gave him a stern look, attempting to remind him that he did agree to this, so he couldn't back out now. "Meet me at McDonalds after school."

With that, I left. It was pointless trying to convince him to do anything, I'd just have to wait and hope he showed up.

---

I dragged my body through the doors of McDonalds. Sure enough, I saw Phil slouched over a table at a booth in the corner. I recognised the box beside him to be that of McNuggets, but as I approached the table, I cursed as I saw it was empty. I slid into the booth silently, and Phil looked up. He- dare I say it?- smiled at me?

"Do you want to buy anything before we head to my house?" Phil asked me.

I shook my head. "Haven't got any quid."

"And your parents are okay with you sleeping over?"

I nodded, not that I'd asked them. They wouldn't even notice I was gone.

So Phil led me out of the McDonalds and down the street, towards his house. He tried to make small talk, to no avail. I let out an exasperated sigh.

"Phil! The only reason I agreed to give you my blood for this wizardry is because I'm fucking cursed! Nothing matters anymore because I have a curse, and there's nothing I can do to stop it, so just shut up and stop trying to be my friend!" My outburst visibly shocked Phil, which I noticed by the way his eyes widened. Also, he stopped walking.

"What do you mean 'cursed'?"

"My friend bought this bloody artifact, a pair of dice, and it gave me a curse. It sounds absurd, I know, but it's true. I killed my friend Chris." I said, grimly.

Phil was silent for a few seconds before saying, "I believe you."

As we walked, he asked me more questions about the curse. As much as I hated to admit it, it felt kind of good to talk to someone about my problems.

"And the man told me that the original curse is controlled by a shaman in Egypt. He's still alive today but the only way the curse can be broken is if he dies..." 

Our conversation faded after that, both of us unsure of what could possibly be said.

Phil spoke again to announce, "This is it." A large, two story house, complete with a pruned garden and white picket fence: The American Dream. He opened the door- It was unlocked- and slipped his shoes off. I copied his actions. A woman emerged from one of the rooms that stemmed from the hallway we were in.

"Oh, Phil! Who's your friend?" She asked, smiling warmly. He introduced me to her and she gave a generic 'lovely to meet you' kind of statement. I felt a little sick from the inherent jealousy his mother's warmth instilled in me. Phil had no idea how lucky he was to have a mum that acted like this. 

Phil declined her offer for snacks and took me upstairs to his bedroom. My body shook a little from the nerves- I'd never been in a boy's bedroom before. Phil opened the door and the room seemed to ooze personality. Phil's bedsheets were brightly patterned, his walls adorned with posters of movies or bands I didn't know. He had a lion plushie on his bed, representing some kind of childhood innocence I didn't know he had, given his status as a blood mage.

"We have a few hours still before the sun sets, what do you want to do until then?" Phil asked. I blushed a little, but I didn't exactly know why. The feeling of my cheeks warming up made my heart skip a beat purely from the shock. What was I supposed to do with Phil in his room until sundown?