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“Oh Sabrina, I keep meaning to talk to you,” Roz said, catching her friend’s eye as they stood up, gathering their things. It was February 14th and the pair had been holed up at the library, studying after class. College had proven hardly that Sabrina expected, so she was glad for her best friend being virtually a genius.
“I can't make our girls night tonight, I, uh, have a date,” continued Roz, with a little smile. “I’m really sorry.”
Sabrina froze, “No, don’t be sorry! You go! Have fun! We can have a girls night anytime.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course! I have a date too,” said Sabrina.
This was a lie.
Sabrina Spellman was single and very bad at it. She hadn’t been single since she was six years old, when she met her first boyfriend, Harvey Kinkle. Then there Nicholas, the college bad boy she’d dated her last two years of high school, and Caliban the summer before moving to college with Roz. Now she was single and struggling.
“Great!” Roz touched Sabrina’s arm, “I’m so happy for you! We’ll have to meet up and compare notes later this week.”
“You have a date?” an all too familiar voice said behind her once Roz had left, “How much did you pay them?”
“Professor Hades,” try as she might to stop it, Sabrina felt a pout forming on her lips as she turned to look up at her least favorite professor. Least favorite was too simplistic of a way to put it. Lilith Hades hated Sabrina, and in return, Sabrina hated her back.
“Why would you assume I’m less than capable of landing a date on Valentine's day?” Sabrina snapped. She wrinkled her nose in frustration.
“Why anyone would want to spend time with you socially is simply beyond the realm of my imagination,” said Lilith, arching one perfect eyebrow.
“Well, it’s real!” Another lie. “I’m meeting him at Elixirs and Brews, we’re going to have a great time, and you’re not invited!”
“We’ll see,” Lilith replied, hips swinging as she walked off.
Sabrina was flush with anger. She pressed her lips together as she took several deep breaths. As she gathered her things, slinging her red patent leather bag over her shoulder, an awful realization settled over her. She’d basically dared Lilith to come and see her great date at Elixirs and Brews. Her date, the one that was entirely fictional.
Hurrying down the cobblestone path, she tried to think of a plan. But she skidded to a halt in front of the statue that was outside the dorms, an idea forming as she scrambled for the grimoire tucked deep in her bag.
Hours later, clad in a tiny red dress, Sabrina walked into Elixirs and Brews hand in hand with her new boyfriend. She deeply hoped that no one would notice that he was none other than, Aleister Crowley, 19th century occultist warlock, who was as pale as that marble block he’d been standing on for the past two hundred years.
Each step he took landed hard, stone against wood floor, and Sabrina hoped it hasn’t leaving dents. They maneuvered to a far booth, Sabrina shoving him into one side as she ordered for both of them.
She had gulped down her strawberry daiquiri, and half of the scotch she’d ordered for Aleister, when Lilith appeared beside them, glancing from Aleister to Sabrina and back again. She carried a bouquet of roses, gesturing with them, making Sabrina sneeze.
“I am allergic!” Sabrina said between sneezes, but Lilith only smirked.
“I know,” said Lilith, “Like I also know that the statue outside the Bishop dorms has gone awol.”
“I fail to see what that has to do with me,” Sabrina said as primly as she could, dabbing at her nose with the bar napkin.
“What’s your beau’s name?” Lilith asked.
“Aleis-” the reanimated statue began but Sabrina cut in, louder, “Gary!”
“Gary,” Lilith said flatly. She turned, “Gary, who sang
Shake It Off
?”
“My good lady, my own plan is to swear off every kind of virtue, so that I triumph even when I fall,” said Aleister Crowley, tilting his head and moving his hands in a very slow, labored way. Sabrina grimaced. It reminded her of those mechanical fortune tellers you found at the beach, nearly rusted with the damp sea air and salt spray. He made a faint clicking sound, like two china plates clacking together.
“Admirable try Miss Spellman. But a marble man is not a boyfriend, despite how much you may wish to the contrary,” with a wave of her hand a muttered spell, Lilith dismissed the statue and he slowly clanked out of the bar.
Sabrina slumped into the booth, “What are you even doing here?”
“Proving you a liar and a little fool,” Lilith slid into the same side of the booth as Sabrina, “And I brought you flowers, to be romantic.”
“I’m allergic!” Sabrina all but wailed, “And these have thorns on them!”
“Oops,” Lilith said. Her voice lacked any sort of apologetic tone.
Picking at the flower blossoms, Sabrina continued to mope, “They are kinda pretty. None of my other boyfriends ever brought me flowers.”
“Because you’re allergic,” Lilith reminded her.
“No,” Sabrina shook her head, “They just didn’t give me any sort of presents at all.”
“It sounds as if they were poor excuses for paramours then.”
“I've just been so lonely. I’ve always always had a boyfriend and I thought college would be the same, but everyone is so smart here, and they have big plans and I only came because Roz got in too and my family are legacy,” Sabrina rambled. The alcohol had set in, making her mind spin and lowering all her defences. “And I don’t know what I’m going here and there’s no one who just cares about
me
and you’re so mean.”
She sniffled, and glanced up at Lilith, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Being mean to you,” Lilith said. She reached up, wiping away the tear that rolled down Sabrina’s cheek.
“Well, you’re good at it,” said Sabrina, reaching for the scotch. Lilith pushed it away.
“Oh no, no more for you. You’re properly smashed.”
Getting out of the booth, Lilith pulled Sabrina along with her. She paid the tag and before Sabrina realized what was happening, they were out in the dark night air.
“Why do you hate me, anyway?” Sabrina asked. She stumbled, grabbing Lilith’s arm. She was beginning to feel truly drunk.
“I don’t hate you,” Lilith said.
“But you’re so mean!”
“I do enjoy getting a rise out of you. But perhaps I have taken it too far,” said Lilith.
“Crashing my date to bring me roses covered in thorns is
really
mean,” Sabrina swung their hands between them, “Even if the flowers were pretty. It’s the mean thought that makes it count. Or something.”
They stopped in front of the statue of Aleister Crowley, back in place and still as stone.
“I didn’t even get a Valentine’s Day kiss,” said Sabrina, pouting again.
“You’re drunk,” Lilith replied.
“I’m just tipsy.”
“Should I reanimate Mr. Crowley?”
“A kiss is the least you can do after how mean you’ve been,” said Sabrina. She stretched up on her tiptoes, wobbling slightly as she lifted her face and closed her eyes. She lingered there, in the cool night air for a moment, wondering if Lilith would leave her hanging. How embarrassing would that be, she thought.
Finally, she felt a warm hand cup her chin, holding her wavering form steady and soft lips brushed against hers. Sabrina reached up, wrapping both arms around Lilith’s neck, content with the gentle brush of lips but all too delighted to surrender when the older woman deepened the embrace.
It was a damn good kiss. Probably the best kiss Sabrina had ever had. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, the little ping of self doubt echoed. Was she really throwing herself at the first person she saw? But she liked the way Lilith’s hands were warm and firm. She liked the kiss, lips parted, Lilith’s tongue between her teeth. And there was something inevitable about it. They’d been sniping at each other all year, verbally sparring, picking at one another in a way you only could if you really saw the other person.
“I told you I had a hot date lined up,” Sabrina said with a wicked grin as they broke apart.
Lilith was flushed, a pretty pink coloring her face Sabrina had never seen before. It made Sabrina feel all the more breathless.
“Go sleep it off, Sabrina,” said Lilith, “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”