Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,2

courses. You only have another month until the end of the year, and then you’ll be at the community college. Your best bet to get into a four-year institution is to keep a low profile, and we’ll get you some help in the meantime.”

College. The dreaded subject. My mom has insisted on me furthering my education since I was a little girl. I don’t understand the point of it. And with how broke we always seem to be, I can’t imagine even being able to go when it’s time. But I don’t argue with her about it because I know how much it means to her. If anything, I try to avoid the subject.

“What if nothing helps me? It’s like I’m cursed. What if bad things just happen when I’m around?”

She averts her eyes and shakes her head. “You are not cursed. And no, bad things don’t just happen when you’re around. You just…” She clamps her mouth shut without finishing her thought, then she turns back to me and tilts her head. “I’m going to help you live a normal life.”

A chill snakes through me at her words. A normal life? What does that even mean?

“There’s something I want to give you.”

My mom begins to fiddle with the gold charm bracelet that wraps her wrist. It holds a single heart-shaped locket, and she’s worn it for as long as I can remember. She always seems to be touching it in some way, but she does something I’ve never seen her do before—she unclasps it. Her breath is sharp, and her eyes close when the jewelry slides away from her skin. After a brief pause, she slips it around my wrist, her hands shaking.

“Do you remember the story about how I met your father?”

I swallow, feeling panicked as I search her eyes. If she’s bringing up my father, she must be trying to tell me something important. “You met him in Apollo Beach after you washed ashore. He carried you into his parents’ home, and you fell in love.”

My mom nods slowly then reaches out to touch the locket hanging from my wrist. “This was the only item I carried with me. Like my life before Apollo Beach, I don’t know how I got it or where it came from. Yet strangely, I know it’s protected me over the years. Just like I know it will protect you.”

I stare at the beautiful chain, a sick feeling swirling in my stomach. I’ve always sensed a deeper story to my mom’s past that she’s never been willing to tell me. “What do we need protection from?”

My mom just shrugs and gives me a soft smile. “Ourselves. Promise me you’ll never take it off, no matter what.”

I blink back at her, wondering if she’s serious.

“Promise me, Katrina.”

Hearing the sharpness in her tone, I nod. “I promise.”

“Good.” She moves to my bench, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and presses a kiss to my temple. “Let this charm remind you of all the good you possess. And please,” she adds with a laugh, “put some other charms on it while you’re at it.”

I promise her that I will and follow her lead to drop the conversation. She smiles while we finish our milkshakes and begin debating which movie to watch tonight. My mom always suggests thought-provoking dramas like Memento and Gone Girl, while I aim for romantic comedies like 10 Things I Hate About You and Clueless.

By the time we park our bikes and walk up the two flights of stairs to our third-story apartment, we’ve narrowed it down to two options.

“Let me hear your pitch,” she challenges as she sticks her key in the door. “Why should we watch The Butterfly Effect?”

“You first.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Why should we watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?”

There’s a grin on my mom’s face when she pushes open the door, and I almost forget the terrible portion of the day that came before now. She’s just opened her mouth to respond when her pocket buzzes, alerting her of a new message.

“Damn,” my mom says, her eyes on her cell phone screen. “I have to go back to work.”

I didn’t think my day could get any worse. “No. You’re kidding me, right? It’s your night off.”

She sighs and reaches for her purse. “I know, but I had to leave in a hurry to get to the school. A patient needs discharge papers. I’m just going to run to work, type up my