This was probably the spookiest, most evil and insidious spell I’d ever encountered. I’d be incensed and horrified that Mom cast it on me, only I couldn’t quite work up the energy.
I had to do something!
Yawning, I shuffled another step or two closer.
In a haze, I ordered my coffee. I paid. I tipped. I sipped my mocha slowly and walked the rest of the way to my school bus stop. Skater-trash nodded. I nodded back.
This was awful. I felt like a prisoner in my own life. Hey, I wanted to shout to the skater boy, look at me! I’m trapped in here! Get me out!
But we just stood there, not talking, until the bus came and took us to school.
The janitor had removed the graffiti from my locker, at least. Taylor stopped by as I was organizing my books for the day. Organizing? Gah! Make it stop!
She watched my progress with raised eyebrows. “Someone needs more coffee,” she teased. Today she had on a canary yellow
hijab
and matching Converses. A long-sleeved white turtleneck was tucked into slim jeans. Over the top, she’d put on a T-shirt with a picture of the bobble-headed Tweety Bird.
“Nice,” I said, pointing. I mustered a smile.
Cocking her head at me, she said, “It’s like you’re an overseas call. Two-second delay.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, cradling my precalc text and notebook in my arms.
“You never answered my texts.” She pouted. “What happened with Thompson, anyway? Rumor mill is abuzz. You kissed him. You licked his face. You smashed him with a runaway puck. He hates you. You love him. What’s the real deal?”
I managed a laugh. “It’s complicated.”
She nodded like she believed it. We made our way down the crowded hall toward my classroom. “You missed drama. Did you skip? Were you sick?”
“I was so embarrassed by what happened in gym that I ran out.”
Taylor gave me a sly look, then clapped her hands excitedly. “You did kiss him!”
It was what I told all my not-close friends, but I felt weird lying to Taylor. “No. You wouldn’t understand. I’m being pulled between two worlds.”
She arched her eyebrow. “You’re kidding me, right? I am two worlds in one.”
I raised my eyebrows in confusion.
She pointed to her
hijab
, and then to the cartoon bird. “I speak one language here and another at home. In more ways than one, you know?”
I was starting to. My brain felt stiff and my mouth slow and stupid, but I managed to say, “How do you choose?”
Taylor smiled. “Who says you have to?”
Huh.
I spotted Bea at the far end of the hall. Before I could stop myself, I’d waved. She waved back, but didn’t make a move to come over. Then she did a classic double take. Bea probably sensed the spell hanging on me. I was pleased to notice her chewing her bottom lip for a moment before going back to shunning me.
“I wish you two would make up,” Taylor said. “Why didn’t you reply to her text? I know she’s feeling hurt.”
Hurt? I thought she was dissing me! My brain would have been jumping except it couldn’t.
“Bea was supposed to throw you a belated birthday party this weekend. I already got permission from my dad to go. Now I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
I didn’t know what to say. “Bea wants to be friends?”
“Yes! Didn’t I say that five minutes ago? Wake up! Everyone’s been trying to talk to you. I sent you seven million messages last night. Where were you?”
“I went out with Nik,” I said. We’d reached my class. Taylor had creative writing two doors down, so we lingered just outside. “Bowling.”
“Oh my God, that’s so cool!”
I smiled to imagine bringing Taylor along to Bryant-Lake Bowl sometime. She’d look awesome in her
hijab
and slippery shoes.
“He invited me to the house party tonight.”
“You mean the one everyone is going to be at?”
“I guess,” I said, unsure. I wondered if the spell would let me go, or if I’d drift home tonight and fall deep asleep like Sleeping Beauty.
“Thompson is going to be there. I hear he’s taking Yvonne.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course. Good for them. “That’ll be awkward.”
“You think?” Taylor smiled. The bell was about to ring, so she hurried off. “I can’t believe you kissed Thompson. Nik is so much cuter.”
No kidding. I wished I was with him instead of heading into math at nine in the morning.
The only good side effect of Mom’s dampening spell was that nothing fazed me. I should have been absolutely in a panic at the thought of going to gym next period, but it all just seemed so hohum.
The girls in the locker room snickered at me, but I didn’t even react with a blush. It was like Mom had given me armor plating against gossips. Well, that made this whole experience slightly less evil, I guess.
We did not, no surprise, continue with floor hockey. As we stood around and waited for instructions, Thompson glared at me from under his head bandage and blackened eye. I should have trembled at the sight, but the spell made me loopy, so I just lifted my fingers in little wave. I expected my little “ hel lo” to piss him off, but instead he blushed and looked away.
His reaction made me wonder what kind of ribbing he’d had to face after I fled. Did
he
think I’d kissed him?
Wow, I should have been squirming. Instead, I just stood there like a perfectly poised mannequin.
Weird.
Mr. Johnson had us doing calisthenics—jumping jacks and the like. Somehow he filled an hour with drudgery and sweat. Ah, gym class.
Then, mercifully, it was over.
And somehow I managed to not embarrass myself, lick Thompson, or fall over in a stupor. I was starting to appreciate the subtler side effects of Mom’s spell when Thompson bumped into me in the hall. I would have braced myself for a confrontation, but that would have been too much work. Instead, I let the wall prop me up as he loomed over me.
Yikes, he was menacing as all get-out. I stifled another yawn.
“What’s wrong with you, witch?”
“Mom put a spell on me,” I muttered.
Thompson frowned at my answer, but chose not to engage. “You have a strange way of telling people you like them. What is this, kindergarten? You going to throw a rock at me next?”
He totally thought I kissed him! “Dream on,” I said.
He laughed. “You’re the one who planted a wet one on me in front of the whole class. Pathetic!”
Having gotten in his parting shot, he stalked off. I watched him go. With a shrug, I propelled myself off the wall and back into motion, such as it was. Well, it could be worse. So he thought I was into him. I
did
think he was cute on those days he wasn’t being a jerk, which was—let’s see—never. But at least no one seemed to remember the truth—that I’d licked his cheek like an ice-cream cone.
I meandered unhurriedly to my locker to get books for American history. Ode to joy.
I stayed in a kind of pleasant haze until lunch, when I found myself staring at something that resembled a chicken patty. I was going through a routine of pick up sandwich, take a bite, replace sandwich on tray, chew, repeat, when someone sat down beside me.
I sighed, expecting Thompson and the whole “What are you doing by your lonesome?” routine again, but I was startled to discover Bea. She didn’t look at me, but she began unwrapping the lunch she brought from home. She set out carrot sticks, a salami sandwich with mayo, and a cup of applesauce.
“Someone put a nasty spell on you,” she said, talking to her sandwich. “Smells like your mom’s work.”
“Yep,” I said through a mouthful of chicken pieces/parts.
“We haven’t talked since the Initiation,” Bea noted.
“Nope,” I agreed, much, much less nervously than I felt. How did she feel about me? Were we still friends? Inside I was on pins and needles, but I could only blink slowly at her as if I were half asleep.
She shook her head at me, sadly, and sighed. “I was kind of shocked, you know, even though it wasn’t entirely unexpected. It just . . .” She stopped and frowned darkly. She seemed to mull over something before she started up again. “Look, I don’t know what to make of you in your new state, but we’re friends. We’ve always been friends.”
I could have kissed her, but I could only work up the energy to flop my hand on her arm and pat it mechanically. She patted me back.
“I’m so happy,” I said, and went back to bite, chew, repeat.
“Well, I’m not. . . . That is, I’m not really there yet, you know, not ready to go back to the way things were, but I just can’t abide this spell. It’s not cool,” she said, frowning at her carrot stick before taking a bite. “You might be half demon, but they shouldn’t treat you like this.”
“Like what?”
She spared a furtive glance at me. “Like one of their slaves.”
If I could have expressed it, I would have been shocked. Bea must have gotten the whole vampire-witch history from someone if she knew that. But surely she’d been sworn to secrecy. Yet, here she was, talking to me. What was going on?
She started. “Where’s my necklace?”
I pointed to my backpack.
“You should have kept it on. It might have helped protect you. Bonds of friendship can be stronger than bonds of . . . oh, that’s it. I think I know what we can do!”
Bea put a hand on my shoulder like she was giving me comfort, but I could feel her magic exploring the spell. “This is going to be complicated,” she said, and I suspected she meant in more ways than the obvious. “Meet me before drama, and I’ll have a fix.”
“Really? ” I’d meant to sound profoundly grateful, but it came out a touch bored.
Bea didn’t seem offended. Instead, she nodded and chewed her carrot thoughtfully. “You might have to use your magic,” she said. Our eyes met. “Yes,” she said. “That’s what I said. Your magic. See if you can dig some up before last period. Oh, and bring the necklace.”
She didn’t say anything more about it, and I was too bewildered to form any kind of coherent response or question. We ate the rest of the meal in silence, but just before it was time to clear our trays, Bea gave me a pat on the shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay,” she told me.
I gave her a zombie nod and shuffled off to class. Sluggish though my brain felt, it was also buoyed at the thought that Bea just might be my friend again. A slow, sleepy smile spread across my face.
AS I WANDERED FROM CLASS to class, I tried to figure out what Bea meant by “your magic.” Somehow I thought it must be more than my ability to sense when others did their thing, but what else did I have?
Had I done anything magical since the Initiation?
Well, I had developed fangs and a taste for blood. Oh, and I’d learned Zen and the art of seeing in the dark. Did she want me to do something vampiric?
I was still pondering this possibility when it was time to meet her at her locker. At first I thought she might have had a change of heart, because she was nowhere to be seen. Had she set me up just to be cruel?
Then I saw her rushing up. “Sorry,” she said. “But I had to explain to Taylor why we might be a few minutes late for drama.” Bea grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into the girls’ bathroom.
The usual gaggle of girls was standing around the mirrors primping themselves before class. Bea dragged me into an empty stall. Locking the door, she whispered, “Bite me.”
She rolled up the sleeve of her shirt and offered her wrist.
I stared at her. “Bite you?”
“Shhhh,” she admonished, with a glance in the direction of the sinks. “Yeah, give it a good chomp.” She waved her arm under my nose. “It’s going to help, I think. You know, a blood bond. Your magic comes from blood, remember? Oh, and put on the necklace. Trust me.”
As I dug the necklace out and slipped it over my neck, I pointed to my teeth. “No fangs.”
“Well, shit. We don’t have a lot of time before the bell. I told you to work this up. What does it take for them to show up?”
“Mad,” I said. “Like the Incredible Hulk.”
“You’re ugly. That outfit is lame. Who dressed you this morning, your mama?”
“What? ”
“I’m trying to make you mad, okay?”
I shook my head. This wasn’t working. I pointed to my head. “Spell too heavy.”
She stared at me. “Well, this sucks,” she said, then gave me a guilty look. “No offense. But, you know, I’m kind of making this up. All right, I’ll do part two now, and we’ll try the biting after class.” Bea closed her eyes for a second, and even through the thick fog of Mom’s spell, I could feel her power rise. Bea’s magic was always hot and quick, like lava or a spark. When her whole body was infused with the heat of it, she raised a finger. “Zap,” she said as she touched the tip of the necklace.
It was if my neck were engulfed in flames. A searing pain lanced along the threads of the webbing of the spell. I cried out. The heat was intense. I felt like I was burning. Frantically, I tried to brush away the sensation.
Bea backed away, horrified. “Are you okay? Crap, I knew you needed blood first.”
I couldn’t form any words. The pain was too intense.
The bell rang.
“Okay, okay, don’t panic,” Bea said. She started digging through her purse for something. I tried to tell her I didn’t think an aspirin was going to cover it, but then she pulled out a nail file and plunged the sharp end into her palm. It bounced off her skin. With a strangled curse, she tried again.
“It’s time for your magic, girl,” she said.
Clutching myself, I was nearly doubled over in agony when I sensed the presence of blood. It wasn’t much. She’d managed only to scratch herself. Bea pressed the wound into my face. I lapped at it desperately.
A power started to rise in me. Where Bea’s was bright and fiery, mine revved up more slowly, icily.
It began to build. Something deep inside me began to move. My stomach flip-flopped in rhythm to the growing energy. Faster and faster my world began to spin. Faster and faster, as the cold was replaced with a sizzling spark. I grabbed hard on to Bea’s hand, as my whole world began to rotate. The lights flickered.