The Only Purple House in Town (Fix-It Witches, #4)(7)

She’d folded her arms and glared at Roddy. “I’m bigger, and I picked on you anyway. You probably feel bad, huh? That’s how you’re making him feel, so stop it. If I hear about anybody bothering…” She paused, glancing at Eli. “What’s your name?”

“Eli Reese,” he said in a small voice.

“Eli again, I’m telling everyone. I’ll tell your teacher, the principal, and your parents. I’ll call your grandmother. Do you want that?”

Roddy burst into tears. “Don’t tell Nonna!”

Since they’d gathered an interested audience, the girl glared at everyone. “You’re all on my list! Anyone could’ve helped him, but none of you did. So cut it out, you cowards!”

The girl stomped off like an avenging angel, swinging her arms wildly. A bracelet slipped off her wrist, and he hurried to pick it up. Eli hadn’t known her name then, but he found out by asking around quietly. Iris Collins. Unbelievably, people left him alone after that. Well, they still used the mean nicknames, but he could live with that.

He carried the bracelet around for weeks. He should’ve given it back, but he couldn’t work up the nerve to interrupt when she was with her friends. Each time he tried, it felt like his insides were on fire, and he wound up running away. The next year, Iris went to middle school, and he saw her in passing when he got there later. But they never talked.

Because I didn’t have the courage to speak to her.

Then his parents died, and he moved to St. Claire to live with Gamma. At the new school, he kept to himself and read a lot of books, played computer games, and made friends online while telling himself the real world would be better. That summer, he finally inherited his dad’s ability to shift and unlocked a whole different world, one that didn’t care how tall he was or how many friends he had.

Gamma had shown him the online communities where he could connect with people like himself, but he’d never had the inclination to socialize. Pack shifters probably felt otherwise. At school, nobody paid much attention to him, and by the time he got a growth spurt late in his senior year, it irritated him to suddenly qualify as attractive. Classmates saw him with new eyes, and they wanted to date him, but he had no use for those who had treated him like he was invisible before. He left for college without looking back.

But over the years, he never lost track of Iris.

Eli had developed this habit of checking out her social media. Once a month, no more. He’d skim posts and look at pictures, trying to imagine what her life must be like. It wasn’t as if he was nursing a deathless love or something. He was just…curious about her. Because she’d changed his life in one moment, by caring, just a little, about someone nobody else at that school gave a damn about.

Yesterday, he’d inspected the attic; thankfully there hadn’t been any raccoons. And today, he had errands to run. Instead, he was staring at his phone. Today was the day he usually skimmed Iris’s socials. Last month, she’d been excited about the launch of her online jewelry business. He was already planning to order Gamma some earrings; she’d love the blue enamel flower ones.

Really, Eli had no idea if this was normal behavior, checking up on someone he’d gone to school with. It wasn’t like they’d been friends, although he wished they had. Making friends required talking to people, however, and Eli was bad at that. He was better with code and numbers, better where the data could be analyzed meticulously and relied upon to provide consistent results.

He was good at flying too. Soaring beyond the reach of human hands. There was no conversation above the treetops, just the occasional shrill call of distant birds. He saw so much, though, and it didn’t matter that he was a silent observer.

The thought came again. I should stop.

Even though his interest wasn’t harming anyone, it probably wasn’t healthy. Instead of following what had become a sort of comfort ritual—because it made him happy knowing she was out there, alive and well—he showered and went downstairs without looking at any of her accounts. Gamma had breakfast waiting, an odd assortment of toast, sausage links, sliced fruit, and hot tea. His grandmother had gone to the UK once, and she hadn’t quite gotten a handle on English breakfast, but she tried.

“Looks good,” he said. “I’m heading to the hardware store later to get a few things to help with the…” What to call it? Packing up Gamma’s life and tidying it up so other people would want to live beneath this roof?

“Move?” she suggested.

“Yeah. That. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“I’d love some cinnamon rolls. There’s a little bakery downtown. It’s one of the things I’ll miss when I move to New Mexico.”

“Anything else?” he asked.

Gamma thought for a moment. Even in the morning, she was fabulous—with fake eyelashes, purple-red lipstick, and slippers with feathers on the front. “The changing seasons, I suppose. But not the snow.”

“Not your grandson, either, it seems.” He pretended to sulk, knowing it amused her.

“You’re not a thing. Of course I’ll miss you. Once I’m settled, visit me, or I’ll look up ‘how to guilt my grandson’ on the interweb. Not my forte, but I learn fast.”

“I’d rather you didn’t acquire that skill. Cinnamon rolls then. I’ll get those and the stuff I need to wrap up here. When are you leaving?”