Home > The Star-Crossed Series

The Star-Crossed Series
Author: Trilina Pucci








“Hey, guys,” Aubrey calls, looking over at Piper and me.

I glance over my shoulder, realizing I’ve lost myself in a bunch of vintage magazines displayed neatly in a cart outside of a quaint little boutique bookstore.

“Check this out.”

She holds up a piece of paper that looks like some kind of advertisement. Piper walks over, resting her chin on Aubrey’s shoulder, reading whatever’s in her hand. But before I can peek at what they’re staring at, Aubs looks up at me, smiling brightly.

“We have to do this.”

I shake my head, holding out my hand for the paper, wondering what the hell she’s talking about. Instead of showing me, Aubrey grabs my outstretched palm.

“Just keep an open mind, Sut.”

She wags her brows, opening the french door to the tea shop behind her, making a bell chime above the door.

“What does the paper say, Aubs? Hand it over.”

I roll my eyes, already knowing this has “dumb idea” written all over it, but that doesn’t diminish the grin on my face.

She passes it to me just as she lets my hand go, turning toward Piper, who’s already lifting the top of a metal container to smell what’s inside. I gaze around the dimly lit shop, past black walls and Turkish rugs to a gold-painted Victorian buffet. It’s stocked with dried herbs and leaves, all in glass apothecary jars.

My eyes drop down at the creased white paper.

Tea leaf readings. Today only. $10.



I glance up as Piper says, “Aubs, just give me your ten, and I’ll be happy to tell you that you’re about to meet the love of your life and win the lottery.”

We giggle, but we’re silenced as someone behind us clears their throat. The three of us swing around simultaneously to deep-set dark brown eyes staring back at us, so dark they almost look black.

The old woman smirks, pointing her finger at Piper, all her metal bracelets jingling as she does.

“No lottery. But maybe true love.”

Piper nudges me as I reach for my hair, fidgeting. Aubrey pushes through us, bold as ever, her ten-dollar bill readied in her hand.

“Ten, right? I’m so in.”

The woman accepts the money, then motions to the small table near the bay window. Streams of light filter in, blocked only by the shade from the trees outside. She points to a seat, saying, “Sit,” before walking around to the other side of the table, sweeping her long skirt up before seating herself.

Aubrey plops down onto the chair as Piper and I stand behind her with piqued curiosity, glancing at each other and trying not to smile. The woman flips over a gold-rimmed porcelain teacup, pouring in water and adding some herbs. My nose scrunches up at the smell, but she looks up, making me dart my head down.


Aubrey takes a whiff and laughs, “Gnarly,” but the woman says nothing as she places a deck of tarot cards on the table.

Piper furrows her brow. “I thought it was a tea reading?”

Those dark eyes flick up, the hint of a smile on her lips. “It is.”

Piper’s eyes swing to mine, both of us still trying not to smile, watching as she shuffles the cards before looking at Aubrey and saying, “Drink. All of it at once. Then turn the cup over.”

I’m staring, fascinated, as Aubrey gulps the tea back, doing what she’s told.

The woman lifts the cup, staring down at the broken pieces of herbs strewn over the table. An indent forms between her eyes as she flips over a card. She stares at it, a heart with three swords stabbed into it.

That can’t be good.

She goes back to the leaves and then flips another card, her hand immediately covering it before she shakes her head.

“What does it say?” Aubrey blurts out. “Is my future that dismal? Great. There goes my hope for Chase.”

“Don’t make her state the obvious,” Piper chuckles under her breath, but the woman’s head lifts, eyes locked on mine.

“This card.” She holds up the heart with the swords. “It means heartbreak.” I dart my eyes to Piper, slightly freaked-out that the woman is staring at me so intensely. “And this one—” She holds up the one she’d covered. A grim reaper dressed as a knight riding a horse. “—this means death, endings.”

“But I didn’t drink the tea,” I whisper, not knowing what to say, drawing my arms behind me.

“Mon amie, the stars and moon are already in motion.” She drops the card in her hand next to the other, my eyes following. “Your love will end tragically—he won’t save you.”

I lift my gaze, words stuck in my throat as she looks deeply into my eyes.

“But you will save him.”

Chills explode over my body, eyes searching hers, almost feeling like I want to cry. Like I can feel the end of a story I’ve never read.

Piper grabs my hand, giggling, “Oh my God,” before covering her mouth as she pulls me out of the store. I glance back at the woman, who’s watching me the whole way out. Aubrey joins, laughing hysterically.

They’re both speaking at the same time as I blink, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“What was that?” … “She was so weird. Your love will end tragically…um, okay, freak.”

Piper wipes a tear from her eye from laughing so hard as we hurry down the street before our feet slow, and their amusement tapers off.

Aubrey smiles, holding up the ten-dollar bill that she apparently took back, shaking it. “Let’s get cupcakes since I didn’t get my fucking leaves read by the witch.”

Piper claps her hands with a gleeful “Yes. Sugar is life” as I smile, turning toward the store, still weirded out. I shift my face to Aubrey’s to say something, but my words are cut off.

“Holy fuckballs, who’s that?” Aubrey snaps, grabbing my hand and pointing toward the street. My head follows, goose bumps blooming over my fair skin before my eyes land on a car full of guys passing in a matte-black Mustang.

Whoa. They do not belong here.

It’s like one of those movie moments—the car rolling by slowly, my breath held as I lick my lips—locked in a moment I’m trying to memorize and live at the same time.

The sandy-haired driver has a cigarette dangling from his full lips. He lifts his chin, showing off a jawline that looks like it could take a punch or makes you want to run your tongue over it all the way to the tattoo on his neck.

Jesus, he’s the definition of bad ideas with one hand on the steering wheel as the other hangs lazily out of the window. His fingers, adorned with thick black rings, tap to the beat of the music filtering from the window.

But if the music isn’t enough to draw scowls as they come to a stop at the crosswalk, his foul mouth does the job.

“It’s rude to point,” Piper offers, lowering Aubrey’s finger. “But damn. When did Sons of Anarchy move in? That’s hot.”

Hot isn’t the word. That’s too tame for them. I don’t even need to completely see them to know that.

The engine growls, idling, making me blink rapidly from my trance. I tug my hand from Aubrey, stepping forward, and loop my arm around a black lamppost, my curiosity urging me on for a better look.

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