Of Orchards, Jagbags, and Best Friends

And then you stone-cold made out with her, in Ye Woods of Gloom and Devastation, in front of all the ghoulies and everything?” Linden marveled, looking awestruck. “Girl, that’s metal.”

I nodded, taking a sip of mulled apple cider. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but it was actually kind of weirdly romantic. Not my usual jam, as you know. But apparently with the right kind of motivation, I can hang with a little horror in my hookups.”

“So thirsty,” Lin teased, shaking her head with mock censure.

“If you search deep inside yourself, I think you’ll find you mean adaptable.”

Linden and I sat in the Honeycake sunflower field with Jasper sprawled next to our flannel blanket, leggy yellow blossoms swaying high above our heads. Someone—Lark, probably, this felt like her offbeat brand of humor—had animated the sunflowers to break into an occasional angelic-sounding chorus of emo cult classics, the kind of angsty-white-boy music Linden had always unironically loved. The spell must have been keyed to the presence of magic, to ensure the flowers didn’t burst into song when tourists ventured into the field.

The field was currently regaling us with an a cappella version of some 3 Doors Down song, the sunflowers’ yolky heads bopping to the beat beneath a sky full of feathered clouds that looked like natural contrails.

I’d forgotten how much Linden’s family orchard felt like a modern take on the Elysian fields. It was almost annoyingly wonderful, a little like an admonition. As if Honeycake itself was asking me, What kind of fool would ever want to leave all this behind?

“Rowan’s never gonna believe this,” Linden said, shaking her head. “If I’m allowed to tell him, that is. That forest is like his big-man kryptonite. I practically had to hold his hand on the way back, especially after Isidora socked him with the whim-whams.”

“What’s the story there, anyway? Talia claimed ignorance, and seemed legit about it.”

Linden tugged on one of her twists, pulling it taut. “I also have no idea, for once. Total systems shutdown when I asked about it on the way home.”

“Seriously? I thought you two were constitutionally incapable of keeping stuff like that from each other.”

“Yeah, we’re not huge on secrets, but it’s been known to happen. And when it does, ‘no prying’ is the rule.” She shuddered, making a face. “Tell you what, though, their energy was super bad, it was coming off Rowan like static electricity. That chick freaks him out almost as much as the Witch Woods—which, please say I can tell him you got to first base there and everything.” Her eyes shone at the prospect of her twin’s impending mortification. “He’s gonna be so embarrassed for himself.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Sure, go ahead. Always happy to help with your weird sibling rites of torment.”

When I arrived at the orchard earlier that afternoon, I’d come through Honeycake Cottage first, in hopes of catching up with the rest of Linden’s family. Though the twins and Lark had their own places in town, the whole gang tended to congregate at their parents’ charming English Tudor home; basically a gorgeous hobbit hole writ very large, its half-timbered stone facade and mullioned windows still familiarly festooned with clinging ivy.