This is the original first page of my upcoming novel, Echo. It describes the beginning of Tara’s dedication to Wicca and her friend Brynn’s response. If you like it, please share this site with others as I will be adding other deleted scenes to build anticipation for my novel. I would love to hear from you, so feel free to leave a comment.
“So, are you ready for tonight?” I asked. Classes were out and the minute I had stepped outside Farragaut High School my cell phone rang.
“I don’t think I’m coming,” Brynn said. She was my best friend and supposed practice partner. Tonight we were going to hold our dedication ceremony, but now she was backing out. Again.
“What? Why?” I asked, feeling myself tense. I knew why, but still I had to hear her say it.
“You know why,” she answered. The terseness in her voice evident, indicating that she wasn’t going to explain herself without me pushing her. Which I was getting good at after two years of friendship.
“Brynn…” I imitated my mom when she really wanted to know something that Hannah, my sister, or I wasn’t willing to tell her.
“Tara, you know my parents would disown me if they knew I was dabbling in witchcraft.” She was being literal, and I knew it. Her parents would disown her; she’d get nothing from them as inheritance. They’d probably even stop payment on this semester’s tuition check. And that was harsh, considering that Brynn was an only child.
“When are you going to finally step up and tell them that it’s your life?” I asked.
“Do your parents know you practice?” she asked. I sucked in my breath at the thought of telling Robert and Jill, the all-American parents, that I was a circle-casting, pentacle-wearing, incense-burning daughter of Demeter. At least in theory, the dedication tonight would seal the deal. “Exactly,” she said at my silence. “So, don’t try to make me feel guilty about not wanting to dedicate myself to some religion that so totally goes against my upbringing when you can’t even face your parents yet.”
“Fine,” I said, not wanting to argue. “I’ll fly solo tonight.” I didn’t say anymore because, knowing me, I’d say something to piss Brynn off. And knowing her, Brynn would respond in kind; then we’d be snarky with each other and probably end up not speaking for a week.
“You don’t have to do it tonight, either,” she said. “We could catch a movie or get a bite to eat…”
“No,” I interrupted. “I’ve been planning this all month, and the moon is right – there’s no void of course. Plus, I want to do this, Brynn. It makes sense to me.”
She didn’t answer immediately. I could picture her face puckered with annoyance at not getting her way. Typical only-child syndrome.
“Fine,” she finally responded. “Well, if you change your mind, call me.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast,” I said. Sunday was our ritual brunch at June Bug’s Cafe.
“Later, then.” The phone line went dead. Typical Brynn response.