It was middle school and Ethan and I were in seventh grade, Abby in eighth. We were all competing in this STEM Innovation Fair, and somehow Ethan and I had made it into the final round of our division. Abby had already won for her grade but she was waiting on the judges to decide who won the Presidential Award. Her project was super cool. She’d created a working lung using some kind of biomaterial that mimicked human tissue. Everyone assumed that her dad had paid for the biomaterial because Abby couldn’t—or wouldn’t—explain how she made it, but that didn’t really matter because she figured out how to make it work, inflate and deflate, just like a real lung would. Fascinating to watch and so beyond what the rest of us were doing.
Anyway, I was helping Ethan pack up our project and accidently tripped over one of the cords attached to her project and I must have unplugged something because the lungs stopped inhaling. She was right in the middle of presenting to the special judges so in a panic, I dove under Abby’s table to try to figure out what I’d done and ended up ramming my knee into the dial on the pump that she was using to inflate the lung. I guess I turned it up too high and within seconds the thing was airborne and in a million pieces and all over everyone. The lung was ruined. Abby’s project was obliterated. The judges and Abby were covered in gore.
It was completely an accident, I swear.
I’ve never admitted this to anyone, not even Ethan, but the weird thing about the great lung explosion was that I had wanted something like that to happen that day. Not that I had anything against Abby but I was so bored at the STEM fair and trapped next to her grossly rhythmic breathing machine that I kind of wished something unforgettable would happen. You know, like a science experiment going wonky or something. I didn’t have anything specific in mind. I just wanted something to create a little excitement. And then it did.
I didn’t do it to be malicious, and I definitely didn’t crank that dial on purpose or thinking I would destroy Abby’s project—the thing was unplugged! But I know what I did was unforgivable even if it was unexplainable.
“Whatever you do to make it up to her will have to be explosive,” Ethan says with a wink.
“I’m not blowing anything else up if that’s what you mean but yeah, it’s got to be good. She wants to impress Mr. Tremmel. I don’t know. Love spells just seem so…not mind-blowing.”
“Well, don’t let her push you around. Just because you owe her your best on this assignment doesn’t mean you need to do everything she says, and crush spells are basically scams. We both know you’re selling a lie.”
“Yeah, good point.” Abby says it’s just for entertainment, but I’ve seen how people get around Mom with things like this. And I read her fan mail, so I know if someone wants something badly enough, they’ll pay every cent they have to try to get it. Mr. Tremmel won’t be cool with us running a business like that. I’ll tell Abby we need to do something else. “Oh hey! You missed out on some near-naked hot guy ogling earlier.”
Ethan puts a pot on the stove, then gets busy adding a pinch of this and a cup of that to it like he’s a celebrity chef on a cooking show. “Do tell.”
“You know who Luca Russo is?” Silly question.
Ethan fans himself with a bunch of green onions. “Luca-the-football-hunk-Russo? He’s definitely one of my top ten. He was here?”
“Yep. He’s working with Mr. C, doing some kind of apprenticeship.” I shove another cookie in my mouth. There’s a reason why my body is more on the voluptuous side.
“And he was naked? What kind of renovations are you doing around here?”
I laugh and nearly choke on my cookie. “I said near-naked. He was stripped down to his tank top and there were muscles.” A lot of muscles.
“Oh yeah, I bet. Luca spends a lot of time in the weight room. I’ve seen him there.”
“What are you doing in the weight room?” I give him a look full of I-know-what-you’re-all-about-mister.
“Oh, you know.” He waves the oven mitt around. “Working on my pecs…delts…whatevers.”
I snort. “You’re working on something.”
He waves me off. “So, what, Luca was here and you stared at him, drooled a little? Did you take any pictures for me?”
“No!” I quirk my lips at Ethan’s pout. “But something weird did happen.” I slap the lid on the cookies to stop myself from gorging on any more. “He talked to me. Said he’s seen me around and he knew my name.”
“Of course he did! There’s nothing weird about Luca Russo taking an interest in you. I’m surprised he didn’t just grab you and kiss your face off.”
Ethan’s bias does the opposite of inflating my ego. He’s been saying that I’m gorgeous for as long as I’ve known him, but it’s not something I believe. “He’s not exactly taking an interest.” I think back on the conversation. “He did ask if you were my boyfriend, though.”
Ethan screws his face up. “Sounds like he was fishing for information…sussing out if you have a boyfriend? Oh my God, Ro!” Ethan comes around to my side of the island, then grabs my hands. “What if he wants to go on a date? What if he asks you out? I’ll totally do your makeup. We’ll pick out something hot from your closet.” He pauses with an exaggerated cringe. “Okay, maybe we’ll need to buy something new for a date with Luca Russo.”
“Ha ha.” I swat his hands away. “My clothes aren’t that bad.”
“Ro, you look very comfortable…all the time. That’s all I’m saying.” He lifts his hands briefly as if to say he’s done with the criticism. Then he gives me a once-over and nods. “Okay, yeah, I can picture it. I know exactly what I’ll do with you.”
“Whoa, you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, don’t ya think? He just said hi to me. We talked about books and stuff.”
“Books? That’s like hardcore flirting to you.” Ethan removes his apron. “I wonder if he has a queer friend for me? We could go on a double date!” He hangs the apron up next to the kitchen door.
“I thought I smelled something delicious happening in here.” My mom wanders in with her arms full of equipment. “Honey, do you think you could give me a hand setting the cameras up?”
Ohhh…so that’s what kind of day it is for her. I deflate a little. Ethan’s eyes vibe pity my way before he shoves the container of cookies toward me.
Setting the cameras up means she’s convinced herself that Dad or someone will make an appearance sometime after midnight, during what she calls “the witching hour.” It’s the time, she believes, when the veil between the living and the dead is at its most transparent. It’s creepy as hell when she does it, even if I don’t believe in ghosts. Seeing all the cameras staged and knowing that the electromagnetic field readers and sound recorders are positioned here and there makes it all kind of real, maybe too real for something that you can’t see or feel.
“Rowan?”
“Yes…sure, Mom.” I pop open the container and take another cookie before getting up. Ethan is right, I need sugar reinforcements.
My mom gives Ethan a kiss on his cheek. “You take such good care of us. If you weren’t here, we’d starve for sure. Make sure you leave the grocery bill so I can transfer you the money.”
“I love cooking, you know that,” Ethan says like it’s no big deal but I can see the blush on his cheeks before he ducks his head. “I’ve got to head out. Dad is going to be home soon.”
Mom knows just as well as I do that Ethan’s time with his dad is precious. “Well, thank you for taking care of us.”
“That roast needs to come out in an hour and half.” He motions to the oven before picking up his school bag. “You need to turn the sauce on to warm it up and zap the veggies in the microwave. I’ve already set the time.” He looks squarely at me knowing full well that Mom will get way too distracted with work to remember to eat. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
I walk Ethan
to the front door. “Text me later. I’m going to need to vent.”
He gives me a hug, swaddling me like a security blanket. He smells like cookies and mint and maybe a bit of garlic, too. Weird combo, sure, but it works.
Mom’s experiments dredge up conflicting emotions but the most powerful one is always grief. I grieve for the dad I don’t remember and for the mom I sometimes wish she’d be.
Ethan lets me go but not before kissing my forehead. “Later, Ro.” As he’s walking down the front path to the sidewalk, Abby pulls into the driveway in her sporty, white BMW.
Ethan stops to give me a what the hell look and I shrug. I have no idea why Abby’s here.
“Ethan,” she says as she walks past him.
“Abby,” he manages, rather civilly actually. He gives me another look, one that says, now’s the time to get yourself out of this love spell mess, and I agree. Abby stopping by to chat isn’t in my top ten things I want to do tonight but it does give me a chance to talk her out of this messed up idea of hers.
As she gets closer, I notice that she kind of looks like a ghost, no crap. Her face is pale, her eyes are darting everywhere—she’s obviously more than a little uncomfortable. There’s a gust of wind that blows air into the foyer and gives me a chill, and not because of the post-rain temps.
“Abby, what are you doing here?”
She raises a foot, then puts it down with a shake of her head. She won’t cross the threshold. She motions me to come to her. “I need to talk to you…” She points over her shoulder. “Um…outside.”
My mom looks over as she’s entering her office. “Don’t take long, Rowan.”
“I just need a minute.” I pop back inside to snag a shawl that’s hanging by the door, then I meet Abby outside.
The sun is low enough to blast me with its blinding rays so I shield my eyes to look at Abby. “What’s up?” The rain has left the air moist and there’s a chill that makes me pull the shawl over my shoulders tighter.
“Your house is creepy as hell.” Abby crosses her arms and shivers dramatically. “I came here once, when I was younger, you know, on a dare.” She pauses dramatically. “I was supposed to knock on the door and run, but the weirdest thing happened.”
I don’t know if I’m disturbed more by how wide her eyes are and how dilated her pupils are getting, like she’s genuinely afraid for her life, or by the fact that even as a kid, she thought it would be totally okay to target my house for a game of nicky-nicky nine doors.
“Before I could knock, the door just swung open. No one was there on the other side, either. I screamed my head off and ran like hell.” She looks at me like I know what she’s talking about.
I bat her comment away like I would an annoying fly. “It’s an old house. The hinges have a mind of their own.” And people attribute strange happenings to places where they expect to encounter strange happenings. The door was likely unlatched because of all the coming and going of Mr. Columbus and his crew. They’ve been renovating this house nonstop since we moved in.
“Is there a reason why you’re here, Abby?” It’s hard to keep the snark out of my tone after the story she just told. It’s been like this my whole life. People thinking it’s okay to target me or my house simply because of who my mom is. It sucks being a freak show.
She uncrosses her arms, then quickly crosses them again. Her face takes on this look, like she bunches her cheeks up, widens her eyes, has this teeth-baring half smile. She could be super excited or super angry—it’s hard to tell. Discomfort pools in my gut as the wad of cookies feels like it’s made of concrete. I suddenly can’t imagine how Abby being here is a good thing.
“You will never believe what happened.”
I’ve got a smart-aleck remark ready to go but she doesn’t give me a chance to actually launch it.
“You know that spell you wrote for Mel?” She moves in so close that we’re practically breathing the same air and lowers her voice to a whisper. “It actually freakin’ worked.”
I take a step back and look at her like I look at my mom sometimes. “Um…what?”
“I’m totally serious. Here, look.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and swipes the screen before handing it to me.
I read the string of texts where Mel is basically going wild over the fact that Andrew, her secret crush, somehow got her number and asked her out on a date for this Friday. The hair on the back of my neck rises, not in a supernatural way, just in a I-don’t-like-this way and I get a whole different kind of shiver.
“That’s just a fluke.” The words come out of my mouth but I hear the tremor in my voice. It sounds weak to me.
“Maybe.” Abby agrees but I can tell she doesn’t believe that, either. “Or maybe we actually caused this to happen for Mel.”
I shuffle my feet and wrap my arms around myself. “Magic isn’t real.” So why does that feel like a total lie coming out of my mouth right now? I do a quick internal scan. My stomach is gurgling unhappily, turning the concrete cookies into liquid fire, and the hair on the back of my neck is prickling like crazy. There’s something weird going on, I can feel it.
What the actual heck?
I make sure the door is closed behind me so my mom can’t hear what she’s saying.
“I know it sounds crazy,” Abby says. “And yeah, I know magic doesn’t exist, but this is a strange coincidence, right?” She frowns at her phone. “Weird that he texted her and asked her out. You should see this guy, Rowan, he’s…well, he could get any girl he wants. Mel, she’s hot, sure, but this guy dates older women, wealthy women, not high school girls. We didn’t even think Mel was on his radar. Hell, she’s not even sure how he got her number.”
There’s always an explanation for this kind of thing and all it takes to show the truth is to try to replicate it.
“Okay, so, let’s experiment tomorrow,” I hear myself say, as if I don’t actually have control over my own words. As if I want to spend more time with Abby than I have to. As if magic is real and I’m my mother. “We’ll write another spell and see if it works. We can do one in a way that demands an immediate reaction, see if it happens.”
She blinks rapidly like she can’t believe what I’m suggesting. Neither can I. I open my mouth to snatch back my idea but she cuts me off.
“Good plan.” Then she grabs my arm and grins with all of her startling white teeth and it reminds me of the big bad wolf. All she’s missing are the sharp fangs. “If this works, we’re going to rule the school!”
Chapter Four
Let’s just be clear here—Abby already rules the school.
And she doesn’t need any more power than what she already has.
Ethan and I texted almost all night about Abby and her love spells. Of course I told him about Mel and the guy who contacted her but talking to Ethan is like catching yourself in that heart dropping moment when you’re about to fall down the stairs. He’s the steady handrail that holds you in place. There’s no way Abby is telling the truth. This is all probably something that she and Mel planned to humiliate me in some way. I promised him I’d set her straight first thing.
“Abby looks like she wants to eat you.” Ethan is leaning against the lockers next to mine, glaring over my shoulder. He’s wearing blue sparkly lipstick and fake lashes that make his already gorgeous eyes pop more. So when I say he’s glaring, I mean his beautiful face is shooting daggers filled with vibrant color and sparkles. Looks intimidating to me but I’m not sure about the rest of the people around us.
Craaaaap. “I didn’t really come up with a contingency plan for our project.” I was supposed to figure something out to replace Abby’s love spell idea but after staying up so late, I fell asleep sometime before dawn and now my brain’s check engine light is blinking. “I might have to go along with her idea until I think of one.”
Ethan blasts me with his dazzling eyes. “You’re
not serious, are you?”
“Eth, I owe her, remember?”
He frowns as Abby strides my way. “We’ll think something up in math class.”
Abby grabs my arm. “Ro, we have things to do, come on.”
“Ro?” Ethan looks like he’s about to launch himself on her.
“Can’t.” I tug my arm free. “Ethan and I have math.”
“You have a substitute teacher, and I have study hall. Come on, we have to work on our project.”
“We have things to do in math.” Ethan gives me a look as he pulls me toward him, blocking Abby out with my locker door “You don’t have to do what she says just because she has study hall. She’s not the queen of the world.”
“I can hear you,” Abby says.
“Ro doesn’t skip classes.” Ethan turns to face her, challenging her to a showdown like this is the wild west or something. He crosses his arms and puffs his chest out. He’s got a foot on Abby—at least—so when he does his tough guy thing, he really does look intimidating, with or without the makeup.
“Fine.” Abby crosses her arms, too. Showdown it is. “Then I’ll come to your math class.”
And that’s what she does. The substitute teacher doesn’t even bat a lash when Abby tells her that she’s auditing the class for another project. Because there’s a substitute teacher, we have seatwork, which means that as long as we’re quiet, we can pretty much do what we want. The substitute teacher will remain at the front of the room, reading her book, otherwise ignoring us.
“We need to pick the most unlikely people.” Abby is trying to keep our conversation from prying ears, but there’s no way Ethan is letting her get away with that. He’s moved his desk right up close to her so he can be part of the conversation, too.
“Unlikely people for what?” Ethan’s booming voice makes Abby glare at him.
“Keep your voice down.” She rolls her eyes and motions for him to move closer. “Ro and I have discovered a pretty cool love spell that might actually work. We’re going to test it out today.” She’s fighting a grin but her lips are quirking and her eyes give her away. She’s bragging and it’s obvious she wants him to be impressed, or stunned, maybe even jealous but all he gives her is deadpan.
Love Spells and Other Disasters Page 4
