Out of bed, and nursing her aching temples, Agatha powered through the morning. It was an important day, and she couldn’t let petty things prevent her from arming herself to the teeth for what lay ahead. Not even headaches brought on from possessing the dreams of her neighbor. He’d wake up soon, and she had planned to be outside by the time the spell ended. To her, this was the real first impression she would leave on Erik. Her ability to intimidate and command respect could mean the difference between loyalty, or squawking to his friends.

Agatha marched straight to the closet, flicking the door open with an astral sign. A plain black blouse and velvet jeans were chosen to play support to the real ensemble piece. Expensive jacket your day has arrived, she mused to herself, feeling the tight fit envelope her arms in a way that made her instinctively want to flex.  Above the now empty hanger, behind the top shelf of her closet, was a false wall panel. Behind that was the only charm she dared leave in the house: A seemingly innocuous cross made of Olive wood.

Agatha mused on the dream she had placed her neighbor in. Sure, I probably traumatized him, she thought, but at least now he’ll be too afraid to drag anyone else into this. The thought that Erik not only learned magic through bad VHS footage, but that he managed to go this long without anyone knowing, was staggering. The brilliant ones could pick up the pieces and make up the rest, her father used to say. Now that she’d seen it firsthand, it felt less like an idle remark, and more like a warning.

Wanzewan chimed from its perch on the bookshelf,

YET MORE UNDER YOUR EMPLOY

 

ARE MY SERVICES INADEQUATE

 

“This is a very different kind of arrangement, Wanzewan,” She said, in the tone of a reassuring mother. “He’s not replacing you. No need to act jealous.”

That seemed to be all the little book monster needed to hear, punctuating its satisfaction with a ruffling of the pages and a few flaps of its front and back cover. To say Wanzewan slept was inaccurate, but the usual restlessness of the lined paper inside slowed to a wavy rhythm at times like this. It was uncomfortably peaceful for something that claimed to be unknowable madness to be this adorable. 

 

No time for the mirror today, she thought with some remorse. Meredith and Agatha emerged from their rooms at roughly the same time, her foster mother’s arms stretched up in dark blue bathrobes. “G’hooood m-rnin’” She yawned. Agatha’s stride was broken; Her body stuck in motion, but frozen in place, taking in the rare sight of a not-so composed Meredith. 

 

“Hey ‘Mere, sleep well?” She asked.

 

“Mmn-Hmmn, surprisingly well for how worried you’ve got me.” Meredith said, walking past her and towards the stairs. 

 

Agatha followed, not ready to accept the loss.“We’re still on for dinner at seven thirty tonight?”

 

Meredith paused mid stair descent, flashing Agatha a weary smile, “So you did remember? Yeah we’re still on. My coworkers won’t shut up about this show- It’s about these FBI agents who search for…”

 

Agatha closed the door behind her, adjusting her tote strap before following her downstairs. She listened to her talk about this show second hand, and the more she heard, the more convinced she became of vague memories. The kind with her father, the old sofa, and late evenings spent watching science fiction and discussing life and philosophy.

 

Meredith eventually broke the haze. “There’s something I’m curious about, Agatha. That boy, he lives next door. Why didn’t you introduce yourself sooner?”

 

Agatha shook awake, and gave the half-hearted answer, “I... hardly noticed him before.”

    “Uh-huh…”Meredith said with a tired smirk.

That was almost certainly not true, and Meredith knew it almost as much as her. Both of them had taken note of his tendency to leave the house only after Agatha, sometimes regardless of how early or late she would depart. If Agatha left an hour early, he would be ready the same time the next day. 

Agatha shrank at the implication. “The kid is a lost puppy,” she said, “ I just finally gave in to him following me and said hello.” 

 

“Kid? He’s what —a year younger than you?” Said Meredith, reaching for the coffee pot.

 

Fighting the strong urge to refute her first point by breaking her cover, she said, “There’s a noticeable maturity gap between us.”

“Typical for girls your age,” She said with a smile. Agatha brightened at the affirmation. She continued, “but regardless of that, we need to have a talk.”

“Can it wait until tonight?” Agatha pleaded.

 

Meredith poured her coffee grounds, and without turning her head, said, “Nope, But I’ll make it short since you’re in a hurry. The way I see it there’s only two reasons for that boy reaching out to you.”

 

Agatha thought she knew where this was going, and steeled herself. If there was one thing she didn’t want right now, it was another parent throwing birds and bees at her. She’d already had this discussion with her father, twice now. Once before and once after her transition. Both were painful in the way that watching someone else fall from a skateboard were, but several times in a sentence.

She sighed, and Meredith began, “Either they like you, or they’re like you.” 

 

“What?” Agatha said, perplexed.

“Shy boys follow mysterious girls around either because they’ve taken a liking to them, or they have a hunch that there’s more to them.” Said Meredith, stirring her fresh dripped coffee with creamer. “He could be trying to see just how much you have in common.”

 

Agatha responded, somewhat dismissively, “You think he’s… like me?”

 

“Some flavor of it. Or maybe just an outcast. LGBT people tend to gravitate to one another, sometimes without even realizing it, Agatha.” Said Meredith.

 

While she watched her take her first sip of the day, Agatha stifled a laugh. You’re so close ‘Mere, she thought, then retorted, “You seem to know a lot about people ‘like me’. I’m beginning to wonder how that came to be.”

 

The steam from the mug was rising directly into Meredith’s face as she stared into the dark liquid, seemingly looking for an answer hiding under the french vanilla depths. Nothing seemed to reach out to her, and she took a deep breath. 

 

“Maybe we can talk about that over dinner tonight. For now, let’s say it’s intuition.” Said Meredith.

 

“I’d like that,” Agatha said, “but I don’t think I agree with your intuition.”

 

Meredith put down her coffee and opened one of the kitchen drawers, saying,“Well if it’s the latter option, you’re not leaving here without-”

“Oh no-”

 

“A pack of these.” Said Meredith, tossing a little black box of condoms at her foster daughter. 

 

“That’s just- just never going to happen.” Said Agatha with a laugh, almost dropping the box.

 

“Never say never. If I say never, it’s more likely to happen. I wish the school district would get that through their thick skulls. Until abstinence starts magically working, have the next best thing, OK?” She said dryly. 

 

Struggling to keep her composure together, Agatha stuffed the box into her satchel while stealing peeks at Meredith, who was sipping her coffee in between knowing smiles. 

 

“What, were you expecting me to be a prude?” Meredith said, “Because I was expecting you to be far more embarrassed.” 

 

Agatha backed towards the front door slowly, turning her head back to say, “It’s not that. There’s no chance I’m using these things any time soon,” She said with a laugh, “But I wasn’t expecting you to be so… so cool about it?”

 

Meredith shouted from around the kitchen corner, “Oh my god. I’m cool!?”, as Agatha closed the door behind her without a word.