Wicked Omega

By Lauren Courcelle

What if he had just told her the truth?
Could she have forgiven him?
Could honesty be even more powerful than magic?
Or are there some truths that are too unreal for unconditional love?

And action... It's Persephone's cue, but after what she's just learned, the only steps she's thinking about are the ones out the door. Yet, she's stronger than that; she's wicked strong... or just too in shock to know better. How could he? Her best friend! How could he? Yet, somehow, it's not the worst thing he could do... as she learns firsthand. Welcome to the darkness... Wicked Omega.

Persephone Smith's senior year of high school is wicked extraordinary. She experiences more by Labor Day than most people live through in a lifetime. But she was born for this, and her lineage gives her the power and the tools to overcome any obstacle... so long as she remains good.

Alas, the guy she loves seems to harbor the darkness within him... so what does Persephone do?

Love somebody else.

And should that not pan out, she'll run straight towards the darkness.

Each time it seems like her life has hit the lowest of lows, it gets worse. But does anyone expect a happily ever after from the dark and twisted version of Persephone's senior year of high school?

Join Persephone and her friends, family, and foes for their final year in Pine Hill, Vermont, before everyone disperses for college. Wicked Omega is the extra-long awaited second seventh book in the Persephone Smith series by author Lauren Courcelle and marks the next young adult novel in the coming-of-age, realistic, paranormal, fantasy saga. It, too, picks up where Wicked Together left off.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauren Courcelle
• Release date: Jun 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463246245

Lauren Courcelle

Lauren Courcelle has lived in Vermont all of her life, but if she told you how many years she's been a Vermonter, you'd know how old she is, so don't expect her to admit that! At a young age, she decided she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up. In hindsight, much of her decision was initially based on her tremendous excitement at the idea of being able to write on the chalkboard whenever she wanted! As she matured, or maybe due to the inclusion of many more white boards in classrooms, Lauren realized that the best part about teaching was being able to have a daily impact on students, particularly when inspiring them to become lifelong lovers of literature.For a few years, Lauren left the field of education, to try her hand at something else. When folks would ask her what she missed most about teaching, her response was always, "The kids, and in particular, reading great children's books with the kids!" Having always wanted to write an amazing picture book, in May, 2011, she decided to pursue her dream. Nearly 400 pages later, a chapter book, surprisingly, emerged from her efforts.That book was "Wicked Normal," and Lauren immediately knew that it would become a series, as her characters still had so much more story to tell. Lauren released "Wicked Weird," the second book in the series, less than six months later. The third book, "Wicked Awesome," was published within a year of the first. The fourth book of the series, "Wicked Dramatic," had protagonist, Persephone Smith, embarking on her final year of middle school.Lauren paused Persephone's series to release "unLEASHed," the first book of her first Young Adult series. Although it is a futuristic novel, she hopes it is not a psychic vision of what life will be like some twenty years (or so) from now.On the heels of the release of "unLEASHed," Lauren returned to Persephone's series with Young Adult novels "Wicked Confessions," "Wicked Together," "Wicked Alpha," & "Wicked Omega." She's currently working on the 2nd book in Cordeleya's series (working title: "unGUARDed") and fighting off the urge to spend time right now on the next Persephone book as Imemy's tale needs to be told first! ("Imemy" is a futuristic, YA love story between the narrating protagonist and another teenager told without revealing either's gender, for love is love. Yeah. Be on the lookout for that one!)Lauren continues to reside in Vermont, and in her leisure time, she enjoys knitting scarves, making beaded jewelry, and painting.

Book preview

chapter one

Coral’s Wedding

And… action. Walk slowly, Persephone. Walk slowly. Don't trip. Focus.

End of the aisle. You got this. One step at a time. Smile – grit those teeth, if you must, but above all else, smile. Fake it like a pro. You are the picture-perfect maid of honor. Now, play the part. Exhale. Give the guests the unforgettable, flawless wedding they intended to attend. They needed not be any the wiser about the abomination that had transpired behind-the-scenes very early this morning. Inhale.

The decorations. The music. The spectators. Stunning. Perfect. Coral had, indeed, scrupulously selected every aspect of her big day down to the minutest detail. Including hinging the success of this farcical event solely on whether or not her hero, Harley Stevens, could get the blushing – strike that – the flushed, pie-eyed bride down the aisle.

Karma, don’t fail me now.

As my feet navigated to their designated spot, all eyes turned to the day’s featured attraction. Ta-da. There she was. Smack dab on Harley’s arm. His intense look of absolute terror confirmed his oblivion to the fact that nobody on the planet was presently watching him, thanks to the white poofball clinging to his elbow. Okay, so grinning like a sinister cartoon villain made my cheeks ache, but who knew that abject pain and eternal desolation could feel this good?

To my left, Coral’s groom, in some weird, colorful, ensemble that was apparently like foreign or vintage or something, smiled proudly as he awaited his bride’s slow-motion arrival at the makeshift altar. What a fool! Had it been anyone other than Charles Hammock, I would’ve truly felt badly for the guy, but under the circumstance, I couldn’t have handpicked a better match for either of them.

As I watched Coral close in on her fate, the melody of the morning’s madness of miserable, montaging moments masterfully manipulated my mind into mush. The looping sound bites of her shrill screeching, Harley’s continuous lies, her incessant innuendos, and his endless rejections to thwart her efforts played over and over and over with such frequency that I sorta assumed the raucous racket would, for the rest of my days, haunt me as my inner soundtrack.

Who gives this woman into marriage? the officiant requested.

I do, Harley replied, smirking and winking at Coral in an unspoken nod to their newfound secret. Made me want to hurl, even now, despite that I had known for hours, for this was a circumstance when time wasn’t a magical cure-all that made everything better.

My apologies. I forgot that since you hadn’t been at Coral’s house this morning, you couldn’t possibly know the root cause of my recrementitious acrimony on this most blessed of days. Well, long story as short as possible… in the middle of the night last night, I had realized that Harley had been telling me the truth about Lainie Starr. Admittedly, ten days had passed before I had drawn that conclusion, but ten days was a record-breaking time for me to realize I was wrong about anything. Buoyed by the prospect of working things out with him today, I had bounded over to Coral’s, bright and early this morning, to assist her in preparing herself for her wedding, knowing that the day’s itinerary had Harley meeting up with us there.

Fast forward to the conversation that had changed everything. Coral had summoned me to her room to talk "in private" about her inevitable cold feet. As her maid of honor, I had known this moment would come, so despite her claims of undying love for Harley, I had attempted to steer her brain back to her precious hubby-to-be, Char-les, with the naïve question, "Well, how does Harley feel about you?"

Never in a million years would I have anticipated her response.

She had shaken her head before replying, "He said that last night was a one-time thing and that I should marry Charles because he’d never marry me. Ever. He’s in love with you."

"Wait, what?" I had gasped out loud. I couldn’t have heard her right. Right? I mean… what? Back up. One-time thing?

Her doe eyes had suddenly sobered. "Don’t hate me, Persephone. I’ve been in love with him forever, and turning sixteen meant we finally, legally, could, and since today is my wedding day, it was my one and only chance to ever be with him. She had shrugged with unapologetic indifference. Can’t say I regret it. Cuz I don’t."

Cue the new benchmark for a bottomed-out stomach. The seemingly gut-wrenching sensation I had experienced when I had thought I had seen Harley with Lainie in Montréal had been a cotton candy sugarhigh while riding unicorns around rainbows compared to this. Because this was real. This time, he had done it. He was guilty of the worst possible thing, and nothing he could do would ever fix it.

Fortunately, my reserves of resilience reached depths beyond any capacity I had e’er known, for I had wanted nothing more than to walk away from the both of them and never look back, yet I didn’t. I couldn’t. For I was Coral’s MOH, and duty dictated that I stay at Nona and Po-pop’s to finish getting the bride ready for her wedding. That was how my ‘rents raised me – to honor my promises and commitments, so I had no choice. Maids of honor didn’t just abandon their duty hours before the wedding! Or… my brain had merely lacked ample time to process any of it – I mean, Coral? Harley? Seriously? No, like… seriously? Yeah, admittedly, I was still in shock, but that temporary numbness provided me with a catapulting springboard from which I’d fulfill my promise to be the best maid of honor ever.

My bones still felt the chill of the tiled, bathroom floor where the three of us had waited for Harley’s sobering potion to render the bride-to-be – whose head had sleepily migrated to his knee amid his gentle and loving strokes of her hair – back into tip-top condition for her big day. He had exploited our unfortunate, tight proximity as an opportunity to talk at me. Alas, I hadn’t yet wanted to hear his groveling, desperate apology. I still needed time to mourn the loss of everything that would now never be, thanks to his eternal need to always make the worst possible choice in any and every circumstance.

But even for Harley, Coral Jones was an all-new degree of low.

Buried somewhere amid his incessant monologue, he prattled off his "Proclamation of Perpetual Penance" which was his pledge to devote the rest of his life to futilely trying to fix everything that had been us, knowing I’d never forgive him, as expiation for what he had done. Good. And he had admitted that he didn’t deserve me but desperately wanted to be the guy he was when he was with me and not the asshole, loser, piece of shit he was whenever he was without me.

A futile fantasy! He was that a-hole, loser, piece of poop.

With that adequate recap of this morning’s pre-show events and activities, I’ll return you now to Charles and Coral’s wedding, already in progress, and more specifically, the atrociously torturous vows. Cuz I wouldn’t want you to miss out on any fresh hell I must endure today. So, imagine Charles’s highfalutin, highfalutin, M’lady, M’lady, bullcrap, blah, blah, blah as wedding vows. And right on the heels of his promises, his Coral Reef’s lies began, saccharin sweet with all that requisite, fluffy, love malarkey.

Was it time for that champagne yet? No? Heaven help me!

Objections? Mr. Wedding Officiant, how could anybody object to this union! True love, yanno? So, just pronounce them husband and wife already! Because, the way my morning had gone, somebody probably would be objecting any second now, and the odds were that it’d be Harley. Okay, so, I did just look at him. The good news? He didn’t catch me. Better news? He didn’t object. Thank God!

After a grotesque kiss marked the tail end of our agony, the brand-new husband and wife were introduced to the spectators. We all clapped. The exit music played. I, dutifully, made sure Coral’s train wouldn’t trip her, and… away they went, down the aisle.

The best man, Charles’s brother, Drew, grabbed my arm and flirted as we strolled away from the altar. Additionally, he clued me in on a troubling tidbit about his brother, but before I could process how the intel would best serve me, we were summoned for pictures. Fine. But here was hoping they couldn’t tell my smile from my sneer.

Following the photo op, Mom caught up to me. Thank God! Her hug elicited a happy sigh of comfort and relief. Cuz she was Mom, and she was safety, and I needed that right now cuz I felt like everything I had ever known had been torn out from under me in the past few hours. And Mom, being Mom, detected that and got it out of me. Cuz frankly, I needed to talk to someone about… everything.

Wow. Yeah. Um. Wow. Yeah, I can’t even. So… Yanno, I felt a bit better that the concept of Harley and Coral had thrown Mom for as much of a loop as me because she wasn’t coming up with so much as words, and her impeccable command of articulation was one of her powers. But not today. "I’m sorry, my Little Dragon. I didn’t see that coming. Probably should’ve, but I didn’t. So, for the moment, can we just slap the label of ‘Harley’s biggest screw up ever’ onto last night and deal with it when we’ve had time to think and process it?" Well, yeah, cuz we kinda had to, didn’t we? "As far as today, be civil, but avoid him. When he pushes it, tell him you need space and deserve it. Because he knows you do. She pulled me in for another hug and to dispense the advice to steer clear of Coral and Charles and any of the lies between them. It’s actually the best eff you to both Coral and Harley if you simply go live your life, happy and fulfilled, without them." I sighed and nodded, knowing she was probably right but not seeing how I’d ever have a happy and fulfilled life without Harley being a part of it! Yes, we had been at odds for ten horribly torturous days, but today was supposed to mark the end… not literally be the end.

And another hug. Words of reassurance that everything will be okay. Cue scoff. Her promise that the pain goes away. Cue eye roll. And that the hurt would only last until I found forgiveness in my heart and let go of what had happened. So… never. Good to know.

She chuckled. "You do realize that someday, and no, not today, you will have to find a way to accept and/or forgive the actions and past of whoever you do choose as your forever, whether or not anyone else, including your good ol’ ‘rents, thinks you should, right?"

Yeah, I get that, Mom, I groaned. But Harley–

You’ll forgive Harley, Persephone. Hard no. Yes, even for this. Still, hard no. "It’s a major mistake, but eventually, unconditional will mean unconditional once again. So long as you love each other–"

I snapped, "Mom, if Harley loved me, he wouldn’t have ever–"

Hey, Demi! You look sensational today, Harley schmoozed.

I grumbled, … and he doth appear, under my breath.

Harley, Mom acknowledged with an air of cold nonchalance that appeared to disturb him, but how could he expect anything other than venom and hate from us Smiths now?

His mouth emitted yet more words of apology and explanation. Mom’s expression remained stoic. However, some of his B.S. certainly amused me. "Ladies, mark my words. Persephone Smith is the one. I will never love anyone like I love her. With his typical, melodramatic flair, he turned directly to me and added, Like I love you."

Sensing my cue, I snapped, "And mark my words, the rest of the female population breathes a collective sigh of relief to know that you will never put them through what you’ve put me through!" before heeding Mom’s advice and exiting the scene.

Ooh! An unexpected morsel of good luck! Coral’s train was detachable! Therefore, I simply removed it, and she and Charles got into their horse-drawn carriage for their romantic ride over to the reception. Alas, my reprieve promptly ended when Drew, Seth, and Harley vaulted into my carriage – okay, it was, technically, earmarked for the rest of the wedding party, but I had hoped to claim it entirely for myself – amid a boisterous conversation about some betting pool concerning the marriage’s consummation.

Harley tapped my shoe with his and prodded, "So, when did you bet that they’re gonna do it?" I didn’t answer because I hadn’t bet anything and found the topic to be, frankly, just as juvenile as the boys were. Yet, they talked about it all the way to the reception and while we were awaiting our big entrance and were subsequently sequestered away from the other wedding guests! Admittedly, the bride and groom’s odd absence added abundant credence to the pervy speculation, but I was beyond over this conversation and stormed off to the powder room in an effort to retain any ounce of my sanity whatsoever.

Approximately an hour later, Coral bulldozed in to join me, desperate to divulge the disgusting details of what had delayed her. Unfortunately for her, we weren’t best friends anymore, and arguably, never had been, so I’d be damned if I was gonna listen to another syllable about her love life ever again. Nope. It was her own fault that my ear was no longer hers to bend.

"Persephone, I’m sorry I burst your schoolgirl fantasy of being Harley’s first, but–"

"Charles was no virgin either," I cattily lashed out. Because that had been the tidbit Drew had shared with me just after the ceremony.

"I know. She intentionally blinked twice at me. Wow. You said that just to hurt me."

"You slept with Harley."

She tossed her head back and cackled. "Yeah. I did."

A wise woman would walk away when she felt the burn of anger begin to overtake her good senses. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a wise woman; I was a sixteen-year-old. Ergo, I roared, "Coral, you’re a bitch! And I hate you! And I can’t believe you did this to me after I’ve been good to you all of these years! Harley! My Harley! How dare you?"

She smirked. "I don’t care what you think. Mommy would approve, and I answer to her, not you. Oh, and guess what? I’m getting my license on Monday. Mommy always said anyone with a brain gets their license as soon as they turn sixteen, but you don’t have yours yet. Huh. Don’t you find it weird that you’re older than me, and yet, I’m doing everything before you? Cuz I do. But… maybe someday, you’ll actually figure out that it’s good and even normal to grow up and do grown-up things. Then again, you’ve always enjoyed being a freak… Dead Girl."

What an effing cow! Cue me lunging into her hair. Her resultant scream brought a rescue party, but they couldn’t glue that handful of tresses back to her scalp. Game, set, match.

Persephone! Stop! Harley boomed as he pulled me into a separate room. "Please!" Why was he crying? "I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!"

Don’t touch me! I balked, pulling out of his embrace, but the moment I didn’t have his arms holding me together, I felt like every cell in my body was propelling itself as far away from every other cell as possible. I’d give anything for a hug right now… but not from him.

He whispered, I’m sorry.

I snarled, Not sorry enough, and evidently caused him to curl up into a ball, sobbing. Okay, maybe he was sorry enough, but it didn’t fix anything. The damage was done. "Harley, stop. Pretty sure he was trying to respond to me, but he was completely unintelligible. Seriously, Har. Stop. More mumbled jumble. Harley!"

I’m sorry! he wailed. "So sorry! How did this even happen?"

Um, I’m not gonna draw you a diagram, I toyed. His sparkling blues found me. The look wasn’t guilt; it was shame. Hi.

He replied, I’m sorry.

"As you would say, got that, but please stop crying cuz it’s annoying as all heck, and well, you’re not exactly the victim here, Harley."

I hate me, too, he whispered.

I squinted at him. Har, what the hell is going on?

He remained curled up on the floor, just looking up at me with these terrified, ashamed, heartbroken eyes I had never seen before. I wish I could explain, P.

"Stop wishing and do it, Har. I deserve an explanation."

"You do. I just… can’t explain this."

I growled, "You can, but you won’t."

He exhaled in frustration. There’s this darkness.

I laughed. "Let me guess… the darkness made you do it."

His eyes shifted to glare at me like he always did whenever I interrupted him, which, given his propensity for talking, happened a lot. "Pretty sure if that was all there was to it, I could explain that, Persephone. Fair enough. So, whenever life gets to be too much, I retreat to the darkness, and it’s safe, and I’m powerful, and I’m loved."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, I get it. You were in a dark place last night, so you turned to Coral. Now, you’re all, ‘boo hoo, poor me, waa waa,’ sad cuz of the actual consequence for your repugnant behavior."

He shook his head. "If only it were even that simple!"

I stomped my foot. "Harley! Just spit it out already!"

Before he could, a rap on the door summoned us. Showtime. Holy piss poor timing! Nevertheless, we put on our smiles and performed as we had been trained to do. The DJ introduced Coral’s Nona and Po-pop, Charles’s parents, Harley as Coral’s honorary wedding presenter, Drew and me as the best man and maid of honor, and last, but most importantly, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Hammock!

Drew gave the toast. I finally drank champagne and promptly regretted it because it was the most vile shit that had ever touched my taste buds! Blech. Never again. Although Harley claimed to hate it, too, he stole my glass and polished it off in anticipation of experiencing the champagne’s effects. Seriously, Universe? On top of dealing with Harley at all today, I’d be dealing with drunk Harley? So not cool.

The dinner’s highlights? The chicken and potatoes. The lowlight? Toss-up between having to sit next to Harley at the head table and the asparagus, no offense to the asparagus.

The moment we were fed, the wedding party was obligated to join the happy couple in milling around among the guests. Automatically, Harley took my hand. Um, yeah, no. I extricated myself away while reminding him that he was to never touch me again. His playful, intoxicated joy washed off of his face. Right. Because for just the briefest of moments, he had forgotten his mistake. Alas, I never would.

And so he tore off to scour tables for unconsumed flutes of champagne, promptly remedying their lack of consumption as he found them. Shit. If I actively stopped him, I’d look like I cared, but if I didn’t… well, I wasn’t sure what would happen.

So, I opted to enlist his best friend, Seth, to intercede.

Meanwhile, I watched the momentarily happy Mr. and Mrs. Char-les Hammock make their way to the dance floor for the first dance. Remind me not to do the litany of formal dances bullshit at my wedding reception. For the second dance? Coral and Po-pop. Next up? Charles and his mother. Oh, if only champagne tasted better, I, too, would be escaping from this hellhole, aka reality, right about now.

The dance I anxious awaited came last amid the formal dances… the dollar dance. For a measly buck, each wedding guest could dance with half of the happy couple. Perfect.

M’lady, your beauty surpasses all others today, Charles noted as he took my money in his hand and me in his arms.

Yeah, that’s nice, but it’s not why I’m dancing with you, I quickly blurted out. I gotta talk to you about somethin’.

From M’lady’s lips to my awaiting ears. Of what do you wish to speaketh this fine day?

Hell hath no fury like a scorned, sixteen-year-old ginger. Yeah. I clued him in about what his wife had been up to last night and watched his smile break right before my eyes. Dammit, I hadn’t set out to hurt him – I had wanted to annihilate Coral. M’lady, this revelation doth sting, yet I am committed by vow and law to my wife, Coral Reef, no matter her condition at the onset of our marriage.

Right. Of course. I had just thought he deserved to know. Okay, no, that was a lie. I had wanted to cause trouble for Coral, and when the Universe sent Charles’s ex Courtney to cut in on our dance, I hoped it was a sign that I had succeeded. My Rose Quartz! How beeth you? It hath been much too long since we were last acquainted! Yep. That greeting provided sufficient confirmation for my ears. Sure, Mom had told me to steer clear, but her advice had come prior to the little talk that Coral and I had had in private just before the reception. Coral had opened the box. Not my fault if she was no Pandora.

Next up… the bouquet toss. Some sick, pervy guy clearly came up with this one. Gather up the single girls for slaughter, have the bride pelt dead flowers at them, and she who held the nosegay at the end was cursed to be married next. Eff that. A crowbar wouldn’t pry me from my seat… only then, Charles created such a spectacle that I didn’t have a choice – a common theme in my life today. As he dragged me onto the dance floor, I informed him of my profound regret for telling him anything earlier. Pretty sure a few of my kicks connected to his shins, but he deserved any bruises I gave him.

Once on my feet, I slinked off to the dance floor’s most distant corner. He followed and whispered, "M’lady, I’m forever grateful for your candor and intelligence and shall forevermore carry M’lady’s loyalty in the depths of my heart," before bowing and retreating to his seat.

Fine. I could stand here, way away from everyone else, while Coral threw the damned flowers. The cartoonish antics of Misty, Gabby, Katrina, and the other single girls in the front row amused me… until that frickin’ bouquet landed in my hands. I quickly dropped it, but evidently, it counted anyway. No. I didn’t want it – not the flowers, not the curse, and not some random guy’s hands on my leg. No.

I got this, Princess, Seth whispered to me, as the single fellas found their way to the dance floor. Okay. I could let Seth touch my leg and be okay. Alas, our quarterback could throw but couldn’t catch to save his life cuz, no, he wasn’t the one to come up with the garter.

Nope. That’d be Harley. Caught it in his teeth because I had proclaimed that his hands were dirty. Uh, no. Not just his hands. Harley was dirty. He protested that he wasn’t as he chased me out of the ballroom. It didn’t matter that he had showered last night and this morning and had brushed and flossed his teeth last night and this morning, too. Nor did I give an iota of a shit about his mouthwash usage! No matter what he did now, Harley Stevens was dirty, and as I stormed outside, I told him so! "Actually, you are dirty, and I’m not doing this!" Eff tradition! He was not touching me! No. Just no!

Persephone, wait! If you don’t let Harley put the garter on you, my marriage is doomed! Coral insightfully recognized. Ha. Her marriage was doomed regardless. I knew it. Her groom knew it. She knew it. Unless, she didn’t… Hmm… who better than me to inform her?

I spun back around and snarled, Coral, I don’t care about your marriage! More to the point, eff your marriage, and eff you! Then, I turned away and stomped onward, grinning with delight at the sounds of her screeching from the ground behind me. Maybe somebody would comfort her. Maybe I didn’t care. Correction… I didn’t care. I was heading to the one perk of being the MOH… a little outbuilding with a cooler full of Laspberry Rime Mythic specifically for the bride’s best friend – cough, lie, cough. I procured my hot pink bottle, lit a lavender candle, and settled into a beanbag chair. Yes! This was the escape I had yearned for all day!

So, about this garter thing?

I turned and found Harley leaning up against the doorway of my serenity. There’s not going to be a garter thing, Harley. Now, go away before we say things we can’t come back from.

How he heard that as his invitation to come in, grab a Mythic, and flop onto the other beanbag chair was beyond me. "P, I’ll do anything for you. I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it. Anything you want, I’ll do it. For you. For us. Anything. Just say the words."

A million dollars? I challenged, and POOF! It appeared! Holy crap! Because seriously, a million dollars now occupied the space between the beanbag chairs! Not that I counted it, but it was obvious.

Unfortunately, it disappeared – POOF! – just as fast. I looked over at him. "That’s not what you really want, P."

So it wasn’t. "It’d have been nice," I mused. He smirked. Yeah. This was so us in all our passive-aggressive perfection. Ugh!

"Persephone, just say it. Say whatever you want. Legal, illegal, somewhere in the gray – I don’t care! Say it, and I’ll do it. Anything."

I admitted, "What I want is impossible, Harley."

He nodded in agreement. "Got that. And that’s true for most people, but with our powers, anything is possible. Not this. Persephone, I love you, he gasped as though it was his last breath, but it wasn’t. We’re destined. We’re soulmates. You and me. Forever. Us."

I scoffed, "Har, we are not soulmates! Cuz my soulmate would’ve never hooked up with Coral Mackenzie Jones! She’s my best friend!"

He rolled his eyes. Coral hasn’t been your best friend in the entirety of the time I’ve known you. Six years. Not your best friend.

"Okay, then, why her?" I countered, calling him out on his jugular move. Cuz of all people… Coral? "Oh, suddenly, you’re not talkin’. I see. I huffed an angry breath. That’s cuz you’re full of crap, Harley. She was my best friend, and what you did makes you an asshole."

"Uh, no, I just didn’t wanna answer your question. Cuz my actual reasoning is really, kinda horrible. He stopped speaking, but I’d be damned if I gave him an out. I wanted the truth. He sighed in frustration. Fine. She was there, she was willing, she was a virgin–"

I snarled, Bullshit!

He looked at me with confusion. What? No, that’s all true, or at least, as far as I know it’s true.

"Har, I’m not arguing whether or not it’s true that she was there, willing, and a virgin. My point is, that’s not why you did it. Cuz I was those things at Harlan College, yet you turned me down. So, since that’s not why you did it, why’d you do it?"

His face was angry. "Fine. I turned you down because I love you and essentially took her up on her offer because I don’t love her." What? Did that make sense to you? Cuz it made no sense to me. "As I was saying, she was there, willing, and a virgin, and would be married by day’s end. It was too hot a scenario to turn down. No guy would."

"My Harley would," I contested.

"Uh, no, I actually wouldn’t. I nodded as he shook his head because we lived to argue with each other. Nope. In fact, if you come to me after midnight on your wedding day, I’ll also do it with you."

Eww. "Okay, first up? That whole fantasy you apparently have about taking me on my wedding day? Never gonna happen."

Of course not, he agreed. I just wanted to put it out there.

"I’d have preferred if you hadn’t," I clarified. Because eww.

"I’ll keep that in mind. Look, I can’t bear the idea of you thinking that last night meant something more than it did when it didn’t. It was just a wicked hot opportunity, and the timing was right, so I did it."

"Yet more bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

Holy angry glare, but after a brief silence, he simply continued, "For just once in my life, Persephone, I wasn’t the boy who met the love of his life in sixth grade. Of course, consequently, for the rest of my life, I’ll always be the hormonal idiot who (expletive) up so bad that he lost the love of his life as a rising senior."

Yeah, ya did, I agreed.

Got that. He ran his hands into his hair. "I just can’t frickin’ believe that she ran to tell you."

"I can. His eyes revealed that my response had surprised him. In fact, if you didn’t see that coming, you don’t know a damn thing about my friendship with Coral. Cuz that’s exactly what she’d do with that information, and ultimately, it’s precisely why you picked her – cuz she was my best friend and, for some reason, you wanted to hurt me and knew she’d accomplish that better than anyone else."

His hands covered his face. P, I don’t want you to hurt.

Maybe not, but you did last night.

He sighed and removed his self-imposed, facial barricade. Okay. I was angry last night. His fingertips swiftly dug into his hair. "You told me you hated me and didn’t want me to touch you, and wouldn’t let me drive you two minutes down the road when we’ve gone everywhere together for years! He paused to inhale but didn’t have to on my account. I couldn’t foresee that you’d forgive me today after hating me as recently as last night over something I didn’t even do! I mean, I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me! I thought we were done, P. Like done. Like, for good. Cuz I know you. Once your mind is made up, it’s made up. Your eyes saw a glamour, but since your brain saw me and Lainie, that was what happened, even though it didn’t!"

I snapped, "I know, Harley! I know what happened! I don’t need the play-by-play yet again! But honestly, you didn’t think I’d ever forgive you? Seriously? You decided that if the forgiveness fairy hadn’t shown up in ten days, it never would?"

"Persephone, it’s extremely hurtful to tell the person you love that you hate them and don’t want them to touch you," he whimpered.

"Pretty sure it’s equally hurtful to hook up with their best friend!"

He chuckled a non-laugh. "At least I did it when we weren’t together." Gasp! "I can honestly say I’ve never cheated on you."

Oh my gosh! "So the hell what? You want an award? ‘Congratulations, Harley, you’re a better person than me!’ Cuz yeah, I kissed Emerson Luck while we were together. Don’t know how it happened, but it did, so if we’re looking purely at the facts, yep, you win. Bravo, Harley!"

He grumbled, "I’m sorry, P, I shouldn’t have said that."

"But you did. Guess all is not forgiven in ten days. Imagine that. He smirked. Ten days, Harley. You couldn’t wait ten frickin’ days. I shook my head. What’s saddest is that you really hadn’t done anything wrong, Har. But ya sure made up for that in a big, fat hurry."

He nodded. "But, P, you get that we’re the endgame, right? It’s supposed to be us. You caught the bouquet! I caught the garter! We are meant to get married!" He rolled to his knees and gazed at me.

Well, mazel tov, Harley, but it won’t be to each other.

"Persephone! Just say what you want, he begged as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. And nothing stupid like for me to shut up," – funny, I was just thinking that – "but like a million dollars… and what? What will fix all of this? What is it that you want?"

Easy. "Harley! I want for this to not have happened! I want you to be the guy who would’ve never done this to me! I want you to be the guy I fell in love with! My Harley! I want my Harley back!"

"I am your Harley," he insisted.

"No, you’re not! You’re evil! My Harley would never hurt me like this! But you did! What you did is evil and cruel!"

"Yes! What I did was evil and cruel, but I’m not evil!" he clarified.

I shot him a death scowl. "Are you quite done arguing semantics? He nodded once. Good. Because I don’t give a damn if you are evil, or if you do evil things. Trying to circle your mistake back onto me as some sort of revenge for me kissing Emerson Luck, or not believing you about Lainie Starr, or because I told you I hated you and didn’t want you touching me is bullshit, Harley!"

"But it’s not! he insisted as tears streamed down his cheeks. You’re everything, P! Yet, I lost you. So, I had nothing. I am nothing. And when you’ve already lost everything, ya don’t think it’ll get worse."

I made a buzzer sound. "Wrong."

He nodded. Got that. There’s worse than nothing. I nodded cuz yeah, there was. This. So fix it, he softly urged. "Just say it, P."

But why would I want to? No, I didn’t want us to be at a lifelong impasse, but if Harley Stevens was capable of doing this to me, we should be. "Well, I don’t want to forget. He looked at me with confused skepticism. Okay, I do, but I don’t. I need to remember that you are capable of hurting me this much, Harley, but I want the pain to stop."

"Yes! As do I! So just say it already!"

His insistence actually kept me from saying it. Of course I wished that he and Coral hadn’t hooked up. Duh. And I got that he was trying to get me to say it to activate our powers and transform my words into reality, but even if I did, we’d still know that it had happened. I jumped up and protested, Harley, it doesn’t work like that!

He found his feet, too. "Yes, it does! Just say it!"

But it wasn’t just last night… Harley’s weakness for Coral Jones had begun years ago, and I had introduced them. Dammit! I bellowed, "Fine! I wish you and Coral had never met!" No sooner had the words eked from my mouth than I felt my powers churn. Shit! The Universe could misconstrue that as me interfering with love, so I rapidly clarified, "I want reality to be that Mom never became best friends with Marina!" Cuz then, Coral and I wouldn’t have been best friends, and consequently, she’d have never met Harley, or minimally, they wouldn’t have met through me. Yeah. That was what I wanted.

And so it shall be, he whispered as he brought his lips to mine.

"DON’T TOUCH ME!" I screamed, at the top of my lungs, shoving him away with every bit of my strength, directly – though unintentionally – into the table with the lavender candle.

Oh, shit! Harley was on fire! And not in a good way!

He wailed and stopped, dropped, and rolled, but it did no good. None whatsoever. As he tore out of the building, trying to peel his carnation pink sportcoat off, I grabbed a beanbag chair, intending to use it to smother the flames, and ran after him.

He writhed on the ground, just outside the shed, tangled in his blazing blazer as the fire grew! No! I frantically whacked him with the beanbag chair. We had to put it out! Otherwise…

NO, there was no otherwise!

I screamed at him to stay still, but he balked that he couldn’t because he was on fire. Obviously, this was how the Universe was punishing us for blatantly misusing our powers, but Harley needed to live! So, I whacked him with that beanbag chair until exhaustion overtook me.

The fire seemed to be out. Thank heavens. Not that I could see much with the thick, acrid smoke, but… wait, why wasn’t he moving? "Har?" I poked him. Nothing. "Har, please tell me that you’re alive."

"Never thought I’d hear you say that again," he joked, but it wasn’t funny. I grabbed him for a hug cuz, well, okay, I had thought I was gonna lose him! And that had been–

Thickening black smoke? But the fire was out – oh, shit! Our heads whipped around in unison as flames shot through the shed’s roof! Oh, this was bad! With Har’s phone presently out of commission, the call to Emergency fell upon me. But I was a mess! Cuz there was a fire, and Harley had almost died, and– He took my phone from me and confirmed our location with the dispatcher. Neither of us knew which green, but the billowing smoke would undoubtedly give them a hint.

A safe distance away from the inferno, Har mumbled, Thanks for not letting me die, P, and more to the point, for saving my life entirely cuz I wouldn’t have made it without you.

Arguably, there wouldn’t have been a fire without me, so… He turned my face towards him – a bit burned and a bit sooty, but still my Harley. "And you would’ve done the same for me."

He half-smirked. "Yeah. Because I love you."

His thumb found my lower lip as I whispered, "Too," amid a flood of tears and a very necessary kiss. Then, we just sat there, leaning on each other and gawking at the fire – so hypnotic – even as the fire trucks arrived. We traded quips and jabs and a barb or two. He stirred in unhealthy doses of Harley Stevens melodrama, and I derailed his efforts with abundant Persephone Smith cynicism.

Whatcha thinkin’? he pressed, resting his head on my shoulder.

With an uncomfortable chuckle, I admitted, "Truthfully? Is security gonna arrest us or just kick us out for crashing Coral’s wedding?"

He snickered. "Pretty sure we’re getting kicked out for crashing the wedding, but we’re goin’ to jail for burning the shed down." Wait, what? "P, I’m pickin’. It was an accident. Besides, security won’t kick us out; Marina will." Marina? He nodded. "Yup. Cuz if she hadn’t met me, she wouldn’t have crashed my car, so she’d still be alive." No! But, of course. Ugh! "At least, we don’t know her anymore."

Yet, that thought provided very little comfort. I speculated that there’d be an overnight reset for this revisionist history because it was big, and the Universe couldn’t possibly change everything in an eyeblink. Cuz this alteration went back decades to stop the evil known as Marina Jones from ever entering our lives! Cuz even in death, she had remained a presence. Yet now, we lived in a reality where she and Mom had never been best friends! So, when I woke up tomorrow, I’d, once again, just be me, Persephone Smith, living my happily ever after on my way to my eventual soulmate who would not be a prince… Nor would he be Harley Stevens.

Har got the all clear from the paramedics without a trip to the hospital, so we wandered back to the reception. The cans clanking on the pavement as Charles’s car sped off indicated that, one, the newlyweds were on their way to their honeymoon, and two, we were free to get out of here. Thank heavens.

Only… how was I getting home? We couldn’t find the ‘Rents, and between the champagne and the fire, Harley was in no shape to drive, but luckily, Seth was still here and offered to give us a ride. Not sure why he now drove a brand-new pickup truck, but apparently, the revisions had already started? Weird. But, sweet ride! Dunno why Seth would’ve been at Coral’s wedding had she and I never been friends, but… Harley and I had a ride home, so… thanks, Universe.

Our first destination was Harley’s, yet we didn’t pull up at Grams’s. Shit. How had there been such big changes already? What about the overnight reset? I wasn’t prepared to run with this reality yet!

Hey, Persephone, can you like walk me to the door? Harley requested. Wobbly, yanno? Of course I could. I needed the moment’s privacy to process everything we now knew as much as he did.

Seth offered, How about I wait here?

Great. Perfect. Har took a few stumbly steps, but seemingly more for show than anything. "So, this is where I live."

I didn’t expect revisionist history to kick in yet, I admitted.

He smirked. "Me either. But at least we still know each other, and we know Totter, so… it’s a start. We can go from here. We’ll be okay. He sighed. How ‘bout I meet you at your house tomorrow before church, so we can compare notes after the overnight reset?"

Yeah. Okay. Cuz things were different now. Not sure why Harley’s house would be impacted had Mom and Marina never been best friends, but I hoped we’d be able to figure that out in the morning.

After a feeble wave goodbye, I hurried to Seth's truck to head home. He soundtracked the moment with some sappy country song, and it just felt right. Everything felt right. Considering nothing had felt right since last month, I relished the feeling.

Unfortunately, it was extremely short-lived.

chapter two

Un-Reality

I thanked Seth for the ride, climbed out of his truck, and cut through his yard towards my house. Why he hadn’t just dropped me off there was beyond me, but my attempts to comprehend boys ended eons ago. Princess, where ya goin’? he wondered, following me.

Cute but dumb. "Home, I simplified. Cuz I need a shower? And to get this dress off?" Because what more would a girl in a filthy maid of honor’s dress want? Thus why he should’ve brought me ho–

Pause. Um. Where’s my house? Not that I expected an answer or even for anyone to be listening, but where the hell was my house? Because before me, amid the overgrown field that had always been my yard, was the vastness known as an empty lot!

Seth snatched me from behind. "Well, we both know it’s not over here, so…" His kisses tickled my neck. Holy sheesh! This was all beyond surreal! "Take a shower at my house, duh."

Okay, so the Totters would have a shower, but… under no circumstance would it be the same as being at my house! Cuz it wasn’t home. Where was my home? Where was my house? Where was my family? Fighting for breath, I let him lead me to his home where, conveniently, I had my very own drawer in his bureau. Clearly, in this revised reality, we were… together despite not even being neighbors. Wow.

Flannel shirt and shorty shorts in hand, I wandered into the bathroom, warmed the shower, and threw my hideous dress away. And yanno what? That damned garter was around the top of my thigh! Must be Seth had caught it in this version of life.

Clean made me feel new, and the flannel shirt hugged me with the comfort of home, even if I wasn’t there. I wrapped my towel around my inexplicably long hair and rejoined Seth in his room, confident that he’d never find this version of me remotely attractive. Except… he did. Before my mind had successfully deciphered what was going on, his body was atop mine on his bed! "Seth, please don’t! I objected, rolling away from him. I don’t feel good, okay?"

Okay, he accepted, kissing me gently on my shoulder. "I’m sorry. I just thought you’d want to. No. Want me get you something?" No. No existing medication would remedy the sick feeling in my stomach. Princess, what’s goin’ on? Points for caring… and for listening… though I didn’t tell him much as something told me that the boy who was currently kissing every bit of bare skin on my body wouldn’t understand how Harley and I had wound up in a shed at Coral’s wedding. Yet, at the mention of the fire, his eyes looked at me with love. "A fire? Princess! Where?"

One of the outbuildings at the country club.

He whispered, I wish I had been there to save you. I shrugged and smirked at his… sweet sentiment, but I hadn’t needed saving. In fact, I had saved Harley.

Oh my gosh, his kisses made me quake inside. Uh, reality check? I was making out with Seth Totter, on his bed, and couldn’t get enough. It was just like I remembered… but when had I ever kissed Seth before?

Damn, revisionist history was weird.

Then, an urgent thought pulsed through my head. "Seth, where’s my house? And my mom? And my dad? And Brandon?"

Twenty minutes north, he replied with a smirk.

I smacked him and clarified, "My brother… not the town!"

He looked confused, but no, he couldn’t be confused about Brandon! My brother wouldn’t exist if Mom and Marina hadn’t been best friends? That didn’t make sense! No, Universe! You can’t do that to me! Princess, did you hit your head in that fire? Cuz you’re an only child. No! "So, you don’t have a brother… well, not yet, at least."

Wait! Not yet? I gasped, "Is Mom pregnant?"

He nodded. "Though, it could be a girl. We don’t know yet."

Okay, she was due in March, so Brandon was postponed but on his way which was perfectly logical cuz if not for Marina, Mom wouldn’t have had multiple battles with breast cancer, and the revision known as the miracle of Brandon wouldn’t have happened. So, he’d be younger, but he’d exist. Alright, I could wait until March… if necessary… to see baby Brandon again.

"Princess, what’s really goin’ on? And don’t insult me; tell me the truth. Is it amnesia? Stress? What? Talk to me. I love you. Whatever’s goin’ on, we’re in this together. Forever. It goes with marriage."

"We’re married?" I gasped, in shock and complete horror.

"Engaged, he clarified. What the hell is going on, Princess?"

I shook my head. "I’m sorry, Seth. Just treat me like I don’t know anything whenever I ask a stupid question because I don’t."

He shrugged. Okay. Fair enough. But… explanation, please?

Yeah, right. Seth wouldn’t understand revisionist history… unless he did. Why wouldn’t we be just as magical here? My powers weren’t contingent on Marina Jones. "Do you know about revisionist history?"

Is that a Princess thing? he wondered, squinting at me. Just like that, I had my answer: I was on my own. Sure, I’d talk to Harley tomorrow, but he and the ‘Rents were the only people who would get this. My own fiancé believed I was a witch. I really hoped I wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t, but what if revisionist history had made me one here? Wouldn’t that so be the worst?

But Seth wanted to know more about the history thing. So, I explained revisionist history as theoretical without admitting how I knew anything about it. Didn’t admit to ever experiencing or casting one, and definitely didn’t mention that we were currently living in one. Yet, despite my cautious omissions, he connected my story with my memory issues and insisted that we weren’t in a revision of history as this had always been our life. Unfortunately, he was half right.

Anyway, as dusk crept in, it became blatantly obvious that I was expected to spend the night – as in, it was a foregone conclusion because it was the ushe for us! Um… cue panic. Cuz… what? My ‘rents were cool with… what? Seth gave a weird look as I grabbed my phone to call Mom. "Sorry, gotta call Mom and let her know the plan."

"Why? Harley knows where you are," he reminded me.

"So, what? He’s just gonna tell Mom?" I joked.

He usually does, he grumbled.

Well, before I could call, Mom’s ringtone played in my hand. Same ringtone as always. Hi, Mom. Wow, it was already dark out.

"Are you planning to go to work tonight?" she wondered. Let me tell ya, it felt so good to hear her voice.

Work tonight? I repeated. I work?

Do you work? Seriously, Persephone? Yeah, Mom. Seriously. Oh, we would have so much to talk about later. Meet Harley out front in ten minutes. He’ll give you a ride. Okay… though my mind whirled in a zillion directions. Work? Harley? Ride? What