Spells for Forgetting

by Adrienne Young

I rubbed both hands over my face, pinching my eyes closed until the sound of his footsteps faded away. When I opened them again, my gaze went to the window that faced the Blackwoods’ house across the road. I could barely make out the yellow paint on the cottage through the trees. In my mind, I could still see the image of Emery standing there in the drive. I don’t really remember when things changed between us. Emery, Dutch, Lily, and I had grown up in a kind of separate world on the island. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with Emery in a way that I was both too young and too naïve for. I could see that now. But the tangled roots of it were still buried deep beneath the surface of me, and that pain I felt when I saw her standing across the road was still there. It had always been there.