Spell Struck: Book 2 (The Teen Wytche Saga)

by Ariella Moon

  Chapter Thirteen

  I tried on four different outfits before breakfast. My goth black seemed too eccentric. Everything else gave me a sugarplum fairy mojo. I finally settled on a purple blouse, black lace skirt, black leggings, and my boots. I skipped the elaborate eye-to-temple eyeliner swirls and added just enough kohl to make my eyes pop. Instead of dark plum lipstick, I went with Rose Blush gloss. I still resembled a refugee from a Tim Burton movie, but the overall effect was softer and more romantic than normal. At least I hoped so.

  "Don't you look pretty?" Dad said when I emerged for breakfast.

  "Thanks." Unfamiliar warmth enveloped me. I couldn't remember the last time one of my parents — or anyone — had complimented me on my appearance.

  "Mom said today and tomorrow's carpool are covered."

  "Evie's mom in the morning and Tiffany in the afternoon." I dumped cereal into a ceramic Peter Rabbit bowl. "I got this."

  Dad handed me the carton of almond milk. "Just making sure I'm not forgetting anything. I have dinner in the city with a client tomorrow night. Will you be okay, or should I reschedule?"

  "I'm fourteen, Dad. I think I can deal." As long as Teen Wytche behaves.

  "Okay. Call me when you get home from school."

  I placed the milk in the fridge, then kissed his cheek. "Promise. You don't have to worry about me."

  "For which I am eternally grateful." He pushed back his chair, gathered up his dirty bowl and spoon, and kissed me on the top of the head. "I'll grab some Chinese food for us on the way home tonight."

  "Sounds great." I scooped up a spoonful of multigrain circles and milk. Getting some one-on-one time with Dad was nice, but guilt and worry gnawed my insides. I wondered how Mom was faring. She must have met up with Amy by now.

  Even though Einstein had a doggie door from the family room to our fenced backyard, I took him out back for a hurried bathroom break. Storm clouds threatened. I hoped the rain would hold off until I got home from school. Once Einstein completed his mission, I dashed back to my room and finished getting ready for school.

  For added luck, I dabbed my homemade lavender anointing oil on my brow chakra. Dad popped in, smelling of musk aftershave, and said goodbye before he headed for his office in San Francisco.

  About fifteen minutes later, Mrs. O'Reilly and Evie arrived.

  "Stay away from my room," I warned Einstein. I didn't trust Teen Wytche. Sure it was stowed in the closet, but would it stay there? Einstein whimpered as I slipped out the front door. My nose must have played a trick on me because, for a second, I thought I caught a whiff of exotic spices.

  ****

  Students weren't supposed to eat in the library. So I stashed my backpack on the chair beside me, kept my lunch hidden, and snuck bites when the librarian wasn't looking. Unlike Amy, who devoured one food before eating the next, I preferred to mix it up — a bite of this, then a bite of something else. The celery sticks may have been a mistake. The crunch of each bite reverberated down the aisles. My peanut butter and blackberry jam sandwich was quieter, but the peanut smell permeated the eight-hundred section where Shakespeare's plays were shelved. Maybe I should have joined Evie and Parvani in Mr. Ross's room. But they always watched television, and I needed silence to concentrate on the Drama assignment.

  I wrote The Taming of the Shrew in large letters across the top of my binder paper. Amy had taught me to create the title first whenever I was stumped, and see if it would inspire me. The only things I write well are spells, which tend to rhyme. I made two vertical columns, and jotted down rhyming words.

  TamingShrew

  Blaming Brew, Blue, Boo

  FlamingFlew

  GamingGrew, Gnu

  MaimingMew

  NamingNew

  Phew

  Queue, Cue

  Sue, Screw

  True, Two

  View

  You, Zoo

  "You forgot 'woo'." Aidan had snuck up on me from behind. His unexpected appearance launched a bevy of dragonflies in my stomach. I silently vowed to start acting like a gunslinger and sit facing the door. Aidan scraped back the chair to the right of my backpack instead of taking the seat next to me on my left. Even more worrisome, he scooted the chair a few inches away from me before he sat down. Did I have cooties? Had my deodorant worn off during Gym?

  Aidan glanced at my face and did a classic Einstein flinch. "Wow." He made squiggles in the air near his temple. I thought he meant I was crazy until he said, "I like the new look."

  Chunks broke off the iceberg around my heart. Maybe my effort to soften my makeup hadn't been a mistake. But why sit so far away? I narrowed my eyes, which probably wasn't the best way to get him to fall in love with me.

  "I like to spread out when I study." His tone marked the halfway point between apologetic and defensive.

  Since when do guys choose studying over body contact? Maybe the love spell was wearing off. Visions of a smoldering grimoire flamed to mind. Changing tactics, I asked, "Hungry?" Before he could answer, I peeled open my backpack, revealing the remaining half of my sandwich and the celery in the open plastic container. "I brought too much food." I hoped the peanut smell would override the possible stench of gym sweat.

  His eyes brightened and his stomach gurgled. "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely. Take it." Whenever Amy had invited boys over to the house, she had baked cookies, made popcorn, and cajoled Mom into ordering pizza. I wasn't sure if Amy had wanted to keep the guys' hands busy, or if she'd figured the way to a guy's heart was through his stomach. In case it was the latter, I resolved to bombard Aidan with food.

  He plowed through the sandwich and two celery sticks like a kid who had skipped breakfast. I dug deeper into my backpack. After a quick glance to make sure the librarian was preoccupied, I pulled out a container of my homemade chocolate chip cookies. "Take a couple. Just don't let her see you."

  Aidan slid one cookie into his jacket pocket and ate the other. "I'm in love," he exclaimed as he swallowed the first bite. My heart pole-vaulted. "These are the best cookies ever."

  I resumed breathing and thrust the remaining cookies into his hand. Aidan lit up like the Homecoming bonfire. He polished off the first cookie with a crocodile bite, swallowed, and then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His brow furrowed as he studied me, notching up my nerves.

  "Everything okay? You seemed pretty upset when you left the movie. Jordan and Zhù thought your sister might be ill."

  I blinked back tears. "My mom flew back to Massachusetts last night to be with her." A fresh round of worry swamped me. "We'll see."

  Aidan's gaze dropped to my hand, and I thought for sure he'd reach for me. Instead, he shifted in his seat. "I hope she makes a speedy recovery."

  "Thanks." My lips quivered. I pressed them together.

  He glanced at the paper. "What's with the two columns?"

  "I'm trying to come up with parody ideas for our play." I angled the paper so he could read it more easily. He leaned in closer, and I noticed small bruises along his jaw. He had tried to cover them with makeup, but the shade wasn't quite right.

  "Maybe we can combine a couple of these into a good title." I forced myself to focus on the paper and not stare. But my mind raced through the possibilities. Had he been in a fight? It didn't look like it. It appeared someone had grabbed him — hard.

  "Salem?"

  I shook myself. "Sorry. Lost my train of thought." And now you'll think I'm an idiot.

  "Play titles?"

  "Yes. It was just an idea. I'm not sure any of these could be adapted to a story about male-female inequality."

  Aidan's brow twitched. "Let's go with 'Blaming of the Brew.'"

  "For sure? Why? What kind of brew? Alcohol or a witch's brew?"

  Aidan held my stare for several erratic heartbeats. "We're Team Magic. We have to go with a witch's brew."

  I leaned back, creaking the plastic and metal chair. "Okay. Any ideas?"

  Aidan drummed his fingers on the
table. He glanced at the silver leaves I had drawn on my wrist. "What if the younger sister, Bianca, creates a love potion and gives it to Petruchio so he'll fall in love with her sister, Kate?"

  I thought of the grimoire and squirmed in my seat.

  Aidan took another cookie and broke it in half. "Remember how, in the play, Petruchio was all drunken bluster and initially wanted Kate for her money?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Yes. Yuck."

  "Yeah. Kate deserved better than some manipulative drunk for a husband. Such a prize."

  "I always hated the idea she had to be 'tamed' to be loveable."

  "Agreed." Aidan's sly smile sent flutters shivering my abdomen. "Untamed girls can be pretty loveable."

  "If Petruchio had any brains, he would have seen Kate's attitude covered serious insecurities and an understandable desire to not be controlled." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Poor Kate. Having a perfect sister is no fun."

  Aidan angled his head. "Something you know about?"

  "Just a little." Unease swirled around me like a veil in the wind. Perfection hadn't worked out so well for Amy.

  Aidan popped half the cookie into his mouth and placed the other half on the paper in front of me. "We should show Kate's devastation when she discovers Bianca used a love potion."

  Guilt cascaded through me like a toxic waterfall.

  "I mean, wouldn't it suck? To be betrayed by someone you trusted." A cookie crumb tumbled down Aidan's chest and dropped into his lap. "Kate would blame the brew. And she'd hate Bianca."

  "The audience would be on Kate's side." The part of me that wanted — no, needed — Aidan to fall in love me so I could restore the grimoire, drove me to add, "But Bianca did it for a good reason."

  Aidan snorted. "Their dad wouldn't let Bianca marry until Kate did. Bianca acted in her own interest, not Kate's."

  I shifted in my seat. "Forget doing a parody. We'll play it straight." We'll avenge Kate. Mr. Peters will give us an A. It would be perfect. Too bad none of this would be possible without the love spell. I reached for the cookie.

  "Do you think such magic is possible?" A weird undertone belied Aidan's neutral expression.

  I cleared my throat and picked at the cookie. "A love spell? Wow, I don't know."

  Aidan tilted his head and studied me. A blush worked its way up from the neckline of my purple blouse. Aidan laughed, a forced sound. "Maybe Bianca had stumbled upon an ancient grimoire."

  Alarms short-circuited in my head. The cookie wedged in my esophagus. A cough erupted from my throat.

  A lock of Aidan's scraggly brown hair fell across his left eye. He brushed it aside without breaking his laser-like gaze. He didn't seem worried about my choking. Something bigger was on his mind, something far worse. What if he knows?

  "We'd need a plausible explanation for how Bianca came to possess the spell book." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you think of any?"

  I dug a bottle of water out of my backpack and took a calming swig. A couple more coughs sputtered out before I could answer. "I don't know. It's not like Macbeth where there are already witches in the play."

  "Good point. Witches would have been helpful. Well, think about it." Aidan stood. "Sorry. Gotta run. Thanks for lunch."

  He vanished before I could gather up my notebook and pen. The bell blared, signaling the end of lunch. My thoughts flew in all directions, like the ball during one of Amy's water polo matches. Instinct warned me to figure out the subtext, but I was too rattled by Aidan's reference to a love spell. Maybe the love spell was the subtext. But he couldn't know about the grimoire. Not unless someone had told him.

  Parvani. Her fifth-period class was close to mine. Five minutes didn't leave much time to interrogate and kill her, but I could try. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I sprinted for the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  This isn't going to work. Salem's energy field screamed guilty, but how could she be? The stupid grimoire didn't exist. It never had. Magdalena was a madwoman.

  Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. If my locker had been nearby, I would have banged my head against it. What had happened to "avoid Salem as much as possible?" I had barely made it to lunch before I had broken my own rule.

  Man, I've got it bad. How could she get more beautiful every day? My hand had itched to touch hers. And when she had mentioned her sister? Man. Her vulnerability had seared me. My every instinct had roared, "Protect her!"

  "A love potion?" The idea had come out of nowhere… except it must have come from somewhere. Maybe I've been enchanted. My forehead ached. I replayed in my mind Salem's reaction to "ancient grimoire." The words had triggered something.

  Don't jump to conclusions. Wait and see what she comes up with in Drama.

  "Aidan?" Meadow slipped her arm through mine and fell into step beside me. "Did you say something about a love potion?"

  "Hey, Meadow." Her easygoing energy wrapped around me like a sisterly hug. "Yeah. Sarah Miller and I are partners for a big Drama project."

  Meadow loosened her grip.

  "We might add a love potion to the play we're writing." I shrugged and beamed, like it was no big deal, and slipped into Aidan the Charmer.

  "Maybe we can be partners in Bio. I could help you catch up."

  "Cool. Thanks." I pulled away. "Hey, I'll meet you there. I gotta make a stop first."

  Meadow's brow crinkled. Then she probably decided I meant a pit stop, and she waved me off. I hurried to the cafeteria, not the boys' bathroom, and slipped in while a few stragglers still milled about. I slowed my steps to divert attention and walked, all innocent-like, to the metal condiment station. After a quick glance to make sure no eyes were on me, I palmed several packets of salt and shoved them into my jeans pocket before heading to class.

  ****

  "Salem! What are you doing?"

  "Kidnapping you." I snaked my arm through Parvani's and steered her around to the side of the building, away from her English class.

  "If you've come to thank me for setting you up with Aidan yesterday," Parvani said in her clipped British accent, "you have a funny way of showing it."

  "Thank you." I was grateful. "But we have a problem."

  Parvani's dark eyes widened behind her designer frames. "Is it Teen Wytche?"

  "No. I mean yes, it is part of the problem, but not in the way you may think."

  "What's up?"

  "I think Aidan knows about the grimoire and the love spell. Did you say anything to him?"

  Parvani pushed her glasses farther up her nose. "Of course not!" She lowered her voice. "I would never say anything. Do you think I'd risk Zhù or Jordan finding out?"

  I assessed her with what Evie calls my gunslinger squint. Parvani had almost poisoned Jordan with her wrongful love spell, and had attracted Zhù with the free-will love spell I had designed. Maybe I had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Okay. Maybe you didn't say anything, but someone must have."

  "Evie is the only other person who knows, and she would never say a word. If it were up to her, the grimoire would be buried in a graveyard or something."

  I released Parvani's arm. The gold bracelets on her right arm dropped below her wrist with a tinny clatter. "Aidan put out feelers. For now, let's assume he suspects something but he doesn't know for sure."

  "I don't know what to tell you." Parvani glanced toward her class. The bell would ring any second, making both of us tardy.

  "Just keep your eyes and ears open."

  Parvani nodded. "Absolutely."

  We took off in opposite directions. I speed-walked to World History and Geography, where my chances of learning anything were just about zero.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Meadow had lassoed me after Bio and dropped hints about the two of us dating. By the time I'd ditched her and reached the auditorium, Mr. Peters was already addressing the class. For once, the kids sat in the auditorium seats instead of gathering on stage. Salem had holed up in her usual seat toward the back.

  "Nice of you to joi
n us, Mr. Cooper."

  "Sorry, sir." I kept my chin tucked and slipped past him. Most of the makeup Kali had applied to my bruises this morning had worn off during Gym. So far, none of my teachers had noticed. It didn't look like we'd be under the bright stage lights today. Still, I held my breath until I reached the side aisle, headed for Salem.

  "An amendment to your writing assignment," Mr. Peters announced. "Final papers and performance of scenes are still due by Wednesday the twenty-sixth. But your first draft is due on the seventeenth. I have corrected this online, in case any of you forget, and so your parents can be fully informed." He swiped his finger across his electronic pad. "Pair up and get to work, people!"

  Salem sat three seats from the aisle with her backpack on the fourth seat. She'd hunkered down, her tiny frame folded sideways in the seat, with her feet tucked under her.

  I caught her eye. "Long time no see."

  "Indeed." Snarkiness or wariness edged her voice — I wasn't sure which. I dropped my messenger bag onto the empty seat between us. Before my butt hit the aisle seat, a whoosh of energy knocked me sideways. I knew from her hurt expression she had raised an invisible, take-no-prisoners energy shield

  Guess I won't have to worry about touching her.

  "How was Bio?" Frost scissored her words.

  I shrugged. "Okay. But I didn't have a chance to think about Bianca and the love potion. You?"

  Salem shook her head. "Didn't give it a thought."

  I pulled my dog-eared notebook from my bag. The thing had lasted through two high schools and nine subjects. There were five blank pages left. One more item on my Need-It-Yesterday list. Good thing June wanted to hire me. Fixing her broken stair was the only job on my horizon until the Crystal Faire. And at this rate, I wouldn't have anything to sell and Papo would pulverize me.

  Thoughts of the faire unleashed a fresh tidal wave of despair. Thanksgiving. Another move. Papo's deadline hung like a guillotine over my neck. After Salem and I performed our scene in Drama, I'd never see her again. Would we spend Christmas in the van or in another soulless, vacant house? And then what?