“This was fun,” I said as Shannon walked us to the front door. “Thanks for dragging me out of the house today.”
“Sitting home sulking is never good for anyone,” Shannon said. “And going to the mall was helpful, right?”
“Yeah.” I looked warily at Amber, not wanting her to know about Mystic Pathways. Even though the two of them were best friends, I had a feeling she
didn’t
know about Shannon’s connection to the store. “Very helpful. I’m glad we went.”
“And how come I didn’t get invited on this mall trip?” Amber crossed her arms and glared at Shannon.
“Would you have wanted to wake up before noon on a Sunday?” Shannon retorted. She raised an eyebrow, already knowing what
Amber’s
response would be.
“Good point,” Amber said. “I would have been pissed if you woke me up.”
“Anything before 1:00 PM is early for Amber on the weekend,” Shannon explained.
“I like my sleep, too,” I said. “And honestly, you surprised me. I didn’t peg you as a morning person.”
“Sometimes people are full of surprises.” Shannon laughed.
That was an understatement—Shannon was the last person I expected to be involved with mystic-psychic stuff.
And
Lizzie was the last person I expected to go after my boyfriend behind my back.
It goes to show that no matter how close you think you are with someone, you can never know
them
completely.
“I’m so not in the mood for school tomorrow,” Amber grumbled when we reached the door.
“I’m never in the mood for school,” Shannon said.
“Is anyone ever?” I asked. They agreed.
However, school tomorrow morning felt a long way off. I reached into my bag and wrapped my hand around the warm vial, smiling at the feel of it.
To say the night was still young was the understatement of the century.
CHAPTER 9
My dad was getting ready for bed when I got home. After telling him about my trip to the mall and hanging out at Shannon’s, I was able to go up to my room and get the privacy I’d need for what was coming next.
To make sure my dad was fast asleep when I started doing the spell, I killed some time watching two shows
I’d
recorded on my DVR. I
wasn’t
focused on the shows though—my thoughts kept wandering to the conversation I had with Drew at his house. Not only did he look happy, but he said he was happy, too. The entire time we dated,
I’d
never seen him quite so relaxed and content as he was now. Did I really have a right to take that away from him, to control him with Genevieve’s spell?
Then I reminded myself of what
I’d
seen of the past. Drew and I
were meant
to be together. I
wasn’t
sure why things were different this time around—why he thought he loved Lizzie—but I knew this was all wrong. Even though Drew thought he was happy, I
didn’t
see how it could be possible. Once I put things back to the way they should be, he would realize his mistake. He would
know
he was supposed to be with me. In the end, what I was about to do would help him.
I hoped that was true with all of my heart.
I was sleepy by the time the shows were over, but I
wasn’t
letting myself go to bed yet. I had important things to do. It was time to push my doubts aside and make things right again. Drew would soon realize he’s supposed to be with me, and Lizzie would finally know how it feels to have the guy you love choose your best friend over you.
The kind of love that transcends time
doesn’t
come around very often. I
wasn’t
about to lose it.
I picked up my purse, took out the vial filled with the red liquid and the candle, and put them on the floor in front of my full-length mirror. I placed a plate under the candle so the wax
wouldn’t
drip on my carpet. Even though Genevieve
didn’t
tell me to sit in front of a mirror while doing the spell, it felt right. Then I went over to my desk to get a small piece of paper from my notepad, a pen, and a matchbook
I’d
taken from a Chinese restaurant a few years ago.
The red mask
I’d
worn to the Halloween dance was on the floor where I’d left it that morning. It was a beautiful mask, a swirled pattern in a mix of red and gold, continuing up over my forehead in leaf-like shapes with sparkling white gems. I held it up to my face and looked in the mirror. I had turned the overhead light off in my room so only the lamps were on, and in the dim lighting with the mask covering the top half of my face, I looked like the type of person who would do a strange spell in the middle of the night on the full moon.
I looked powerful—in control of my destiny.
I put the mask back on my desk and sat cross-legged on the carpet, studying the items in front of me. Genevieve said the first thing I had to do was drink the potion. I lifted the vial and held it up until it was right in front of my face, studying it.
This was the part I was most hesitant about
. Who knew what she put in there? For all I knew, it was her blood.
I shivered at the thought.
Not wanting to work myself up over ridiculous ideas, I uncapped the vial and held it up to my nose. It
didn’t
smell bad. It had no smell at all. For all I knew, it was water with red dye in it. I held it up to my lips and took a sip to prepare myself before drinking the whole thing. It had a tangy taste, and it made the tip of my tongue tingle. I swallowed, and it felt warm and soothing as it slid down my throat. The taste reminded me of Scotch—one of the guys I dated last year stole some from his dad’s liquor cabinet and insisted I try some—but the difference was this
wasn’t
quite as strong, and it didn’t have the intense flavor of alcohol.
After the first sip, I finished the rest in one gulp. Suddenly my body was on fire. The heat coursed out of my chest and pumped through every vein in my nervous system. My cheeks flushed, and I felt like I had in fifth grade when I got the flu with a 105-degree fever. I closed my eyes and held my breath for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.
Luckily
the heat subsided in less than a minute, turning into an ebbing warmth that filled my body.
It would have been nice if Genevieve had warned me about that beforehand.
I put the cap back on the now-empty vial and placed it next to me.
One step down, a bunch more to go.
It took me two tries to get the match to light. Once lit, the candle let off a calming, raspberry smell. Then, using the silver Tiffany pen my dad got me for my birthday last year, I wrote on the piece of paper, making sure it was exactly how Genevieve phrased it:
I wish that everything in this life between
me, Drew, and Lizzie
will end up the same way it did in our past life.
The words flowed out of me easily, and I stared at the paper after
I’d
finished writing the sentence, making sure I got it right. I wanted more than
anything
for this to work. To set things straight again, and make them the way they were supposed to be. The way they would have been if Lizzie
hadn’t
stolen my boyfriend and messed up my entire life.
I placed the pen down and picked up the paper, reading it again before closing my eyes. Now I was supposed to remember everything Genevieve helped me see earlier today.
The flashes returned to me easily. The first one of the elegant ballroom, of the way Drew looked at me, as though I was the only person in the world. Him holding me close while we danced that night, in the center of the crowd as if we owned the room, the string orchestra seeming to be playing just for us.
The two of us walking through the garden as he confided in me about something important.
Then I saw the memory of the two of us in the old church, our families and friends gathered in the pews as they watched us on the altar. This memory
didn’t
feel as happy as the others—something was wrong—but I did my best to ignore it. All that mattered was Drew choosing me in the end.
I was going to get that ending again.
I opened my eyes and looked at myself in the mirror. The light from the candle glowed against my face, warm on my tanned skin, bringing out the red in my hair. I smiled at my reflection. The warmth from the potion still filled me, making me feel as though I could do anything, as though I could make anything happen if I wanted it enough.
I wanted it more than enough. I wanted it with every fiber of my being, and I had the power to make it happen—to make it so I was the one Drew wanted, not Lizzie.
I picked up the paper and held it near the flame. For emphasis, I stayed focused on my reflection, and said the words aloud:
“I wish that everything in this life between me, Drew, and Lizzie will end up the same way it did in our past life.”
Then I held the paper over the flame and burned it until ashes remained. When I finished, I blew out the candle.
Thunder boomed outside, followed by a flash of lightning so bright it lit up my entire room.
I had no proof, but I knew it worked.
And
I couldn’t wait to go to school tomorrow.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
In the fall of 2009, Michelle saw Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” music video for the first time. She thought up a story to go along with the video, and decided to write the beginning of this story as a homework assignment for class. Her classmates and teacher loved it so much that they wanted to know what happened next, so Michelle continued writing, and that story eventually became
Remembrance
,the
first novel in the Transcend Time Saga.
She’s
so happy to be able to share this series with you, and hopes you enjoyed reading it as much as she loved writing it!
Check out her website,
http://www.miche
l
lemadow.com, to add her on Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, and her many other social networking sites.
Michelle lives in Florida, and is hard at work writing more novels for young adults.