Seduction by Molly Cochran

heart pounding in my chest as Belmondo led me onto the dance floor. The band had switched from funky blues to a beautiful ballad. I was nervous, so I tried to pretend I was just having fun, but at one point I let my head touch his shoulder and I closed my eyes. At that moment, Ifelt like nothing bad would ever happen to me again as long as I stayed inside the circle of his arms.
    “I don’t think you know how beautiful you are,” he said softly.
    I felt myself blushing from the top of my head down to my toes. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and I felt my stomach drop out of my body again.
    And then something weird happened. A butterfly flew between us. Right between our faces.
    “What . . . ,” I started, but Belmondo only laughed and pointed to the section where the tables were.
    “It’s Joelle,” he said.
    Sure enough, there was my housemate, her face framed by a chic brunette bob with long bangs and a pair of dangly diamond earrings. She was holding a cigarette in a long gold holder while a male model type looked at her adoringly.
    I was trying to process what it all meant when Belmondo blew Joelle a kiss and a frog appeared on the table in front of her. With a disdainful expression, she tapped it with her cigarette holder and it disappeared.
    “You . . . ,” I whispered breathlessly. “You’re all . . .” I lowered my voice until it was barely audible. “. . . witches ,” I finished.
    “Mais oui!” he said, beaming. “Although, I admit, not very good ones.” He rolled his eyes. “That butterfly was the extent of Joelle’s magic. She’s not like you.”
    “Me?”
    He laughed. “Are you going to pretend with me?”
    Our eyes met. Belmondo’s one of them, too. Like me.
    “No,” I whispered in his ear while we danced. “I am too.”
    “I know,” he said, holding me close to him. “I can almost taste it in the air around you.” He breathed in deeply. “Everything about you is magic.” His breath tickled my ear. “You are made of it, Katy. Powerful, pure . . . so beautiful.”
    Suddenly I felt as if I were watching myself. And there I was, dancing with this beautiful man who thought I was beautiful.
    Magic , he’d called me. As far as I was concerned, everything about this night was magical. While we danced, I flicked five fingers at the ceiling, and a thousand stars appeared. It was nothing special, just elementary magic that even children in Whitfield can do, but the crowd sighed in appreciation. I knew I probably shouldn’t have been showboating, even though I didn’t think any cowen would believe it had been anything but a staged effect.
    Belmondo loved it. “You make me happy to be alive,” he said. Then we stopped dancing. He pulled me closer to him, and I knew he was going to kiss me. Part of me really wanted to—well, at least 90 percent of me wanted to—but the other 10 percent won out. I backed away.
    It wasn’t that I was afraid, or even that I was a prude, although a lot of people would have thought so. It was Peter. Peter was the only guy I’d ever kissed, the only guy I’d ever loved. If I was going to get involved with someone else, I wanted to be sure I didn’t love Peter anymore.
    And I wasn’t sure. No matter what had happened between us, I knew I still loved him. Kissing anyone else would feel like betrayal.
    “Are you all right?” Belmondo held me at arm’s length and studied my face. “I’m fine,” I said. “Really . . .” But I had tostop talking, because my eyes were welling with tears.
    “ Pardon ,” Belmondo said softly. “How crude I am.”
    “No, it’s not . . . you . . .”
    “Shh.” He held both my hands. “We’ll sit down, okay?”
    I nodded.
    “With Joelle and her friend?” he suggested.
    Oh. Joelle had never been particularly nice to me. Well, not nice at all, really. Whenever we were in the same room together, I’d see her looking at me and talking to someone—usually Sophie—behind her hand. The two of