“Do you two want to be left alone?”
I assumed the comment was meant for someone else and ignored it. When it was repeated, my curiosity got the better of me and I cracked one of my eyes open.
What I saw startled me. Just a few feet away, two gorgeous eyes stared back. They crinkled at the sides as if they were smiling at me. And as I looked at the rest of his dark caramel-colored face, I saw that his lips were smiling too.
Keeping my forehead on the locker, I turned my head slightly the other way to see whether he was talking to someone behind me, but to my surprise, there was no one there. I pushed myself slowly away from the locker and looked back at him, almost expecting him to have disappeared.
But he was still there, leaning lazily against the lockers, hands resting in the pockets of his jeans. His smile had changed to a slight smirk as he waited for me to respond.
“Um, yeah. No. I mean . . . what?” I said, totally caught off guard.
He didn’t move toward me or away from me, just stared at me curiously. “I had a locker like that once. We were hot and heavy for a while, but then she dumped me for the janitor’s closet. And, well, how could I compete with that?”
When I didn’t answer right away, he chuckled to himself and then ran his hand through his jet-black faux-hawk.
“Okay. So, nice talk,” he said, and slowly began to move away. “Maybe next time we’ll get to the part where you say something back? We’ll make it a whole conversation thing.”
All I could do was nod as I watched Asher Astley, the boy I’d had a crush on since the beginning of school, walk away from me. After a few feet, he turned his head and threw another glance my way. I felt the tingling start up. It was like my whole body was buzzing.
Were hallucinations a side effect of coming into my powers or had Asher just noticed me? Maybe something had changed after all.
I had trouble concentrating the rest of the day, so by the time the last bell rang, I practically ran all the way home. Between what had happened with Asher and The Elite, I was more than a little overwhelmed. And it wasn’t like I was cutting into any of my other plans, since heading home right after school was part of my normal routine. But today, all I wanted to do was escape to my room and spend some quality time alone with my spell book.
Well, it wasn’t so much a book as a notebook that I’d collected spells in ever since I’d started trolling the witchboards. I’d met so many witches online who were from different covens all over the world and got to hear all about what it was like to cast spells. It had opened my eyes to all the possibilities that magic could bring.
And the spells. Oh, the spells! There were millions of them. And so many different variations, too. It was sort of like how a cooking site might have twenty different recipes for meat loaf. So if I wanted to perform a levitation spell, there were dozens of ways to make it happen. Certain words would make an object take to the air with more force, while others were weaker. I’d cataloged as many as I could over the years and planned to use each and every one if it was possible.
My makeshift spell book sort of acted as a diary, too. I could tell how old I was at the time of each entry by the type and quality of the spell in the book. For instance, at the beginning of the notebook, most of the pages included spells like ones that changed vegetables into candy or gave people hives (I’d wanted to use this one on a kid who’d made fun of me at school). The most recent entries included changing the faces of people in pictures and making objects fly.
I flipped to a random page in the middle and sat down cross-legged on my bed. No one was home, so I knew I wasn’t going to be interrupted. The last thing I needed was for my parents to walk in on me performing my first spell. It was embarrassing enough that I was getting such a late start. No, this was something I wanted complete privacy for.
Closing my eyes, I began to breathe in deeply. One of the things I’d learned on the witchboards was that you needed to be as still as possible when casting. Many people suggested learning how to meditate, because it helped you tap in to your powers more quickly. After hearing that, I’d begun studying ways to calm my mind and body, and even started practicing on a daily basis. I figured it would be one less thing I had to worry about when I finally got control of my powers.
Today I began by picturing the ocean, waves crashing against the shore. As each one rolled in, I noticed how it was unique to all the others and followed it until it disappeared into the frothy foam that spread across the beach. The visualization became methodical, and after a few minutes my body had relaxed to the point where I could feel my heartbeat pulsing through it.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked down at the page in front of me. I read its contents and then thought through what I was about to do. I visualized what I wanted to accomplish and, once I was ready, turned my gaze to the lamp that was illuminated in the corner of the room. The house was completely silent as I took my first step.
Narrowing my eyes and concentrating, I said the words that were written in my notebook with as much force as I could muster.
“Electro-reducto!”
I felt a buzzing sensation move from my toes, up to my torso, through my upper body, and then explode out my fingers. I didn’t see the magic burst out of me, but almost immediately the light began to dim. It happened slowly at first, but as seconds passed it seemed to pick up speed. Before it could go out completely, I pulled back on the magic and then closed my hand and drew it in toward my body as if I were reining in a horse.
Blinking through the dim light, I leaned back carefully onto my bed, worried that if I moved too quickly, the spell’s effects would be broken. When the light remained low, I decided to give it another try.
On the same page was another enchantment, which I’d memorized earlier. With the same amount of concentration, but this time while lying back against my cushy pillows, I summoned my magic again.
“Electro-lumino!” I said, pointing at the lamp. Just like before, the power of my magic flowed through my body and out my fingertips.
The light began to brighten again, and before I knew it, every corner of my room was glowing unnaturally. Shielding my eyes, I brought the glow back down to normal and then collapsed onto my bed, giddy and satisfied with having cast my first spell.
My thoughts immediately flew to what I was going to perform next. I didn’t even stop to think about whether I should be casting more or not, I just kept going. Page after page, I tested out the spells, building up from the easy ones to the more difficult. I moved a piece of paper from one end of the room to the other. I turned the radio on and off. I made an apple materialize in front of me—and then changed it into a peach. I made my nails turn a deep shade of red without having to go through the tedious process of painting them.
Over an hour later, when I felt as if I’d had enough practice, I turned to the last page in my notebook and studied it. At first glance, it looked sort of like I’d created a Frankenstein in Photoshop. One model’s head was on top of another’s body, with the hair of my favorite star topping it all off. I’d taken all the best parts of some of the most beautiful women in the world and created one person. Though my arts-and-crafts project left much to be desired, what I did have was a blueprint for beauty.
And a wish list for the ultimate makeover.
I bit my lip as I studied the individual pictures in front of me and thought about what it would be like to be that gorgeous. Certainly people would notice me then, right? I mean, how could they not, with hair like that and a body that would put a Victoria’s Secret model to shame?
“I’ll just start out small,” I said out loud, as if I was warning the universe what I was about to do. But the reality was that people changed their appearances all the time. Cosmetics were a multibillion-dollar industry, after all.
What I wanted to do required a little more magic than could be found in the aisles of my local drugstore.
Before I could feel weird about what I was doing, I performed the spell that would chan
ge my boring brown eyes to a gorgeous sea-green color. It was over so quickly that I had to look in the mirror to see if it had even worked. Studying my new eyes, I was amazed by how much of a difference it made. I almost couldn’t stop staring at them. I clapped my hands together in excitement, then set to work on all the other parts of me that I felt needed an upgrade.
I lightened my mousy brown hair to a golden blond, which gave me the appearance that I’d spent most of my life on a beach somewhere tropical. My strands grew about five more inches in length, and the ends took on a natural curl they’d only ever had when I spent hours curling them.
Next I focused on clearing up my skin; the tiny bumps that had plagued almost every part of my body disappeared within minutes. Every surface became smooth, and for the first time I loved the feel of my hand on my cheek. My lips took on a pucker that was just slightly bigger than usual and my brows arched into a sassy angle that I’d never been able to achieve through plucking.
I moved on and gave my height a boost without the need of heels. And just to ensure that no one would consider my body boyish anymore, my butt and hips swelled just the tiniest bit, to give me that little oomph I’d always wanted. I wouldn’t be mistaken for Kim Kardashian anytime soon, but there was a curve to me now that hadn’t been there before. And because I wanted that sun-kissed glow without a side of melanoma, I threw in a little bronzed sheen for good measure.
Feeling like I was getting a bit carried away, I stepped away from my spell book and walked carefully over to the mirror. Still looking at the ground, I took a few moments to remember what I’d looked like before. I couldn’t help but feel like I was on one of those extreme makeover shows and was about to be unveiled to the waiting audience. When I felt like I was finally ready to see the results, I lifted my eyes to my reflection.
And gasped.
There, staring back at me, was a glamazon. I took a hesitant step forward, half expecting the figure not to move along with me. But she did, and the closer I got, the more I could see myself staring back. New hair color, eye color, and body aside, there was enough of the old me shining through that I wasn’t a totally new person. The shape of my eyes was still the same, as was my face, though the clear skin and golden hue made me glow like I never had before. I was digging the blond locks, and pushed out my hip to test my new sass-factor.
It was me, but it wasn’t me. I was new and improved. Buffed and done up. It was like I’d airbrushed a bad picture of me. Only, I got to be like this all the time!
I turned around in circles, admiring my new self until I got dizzy and then collapsed on the floor. What would the reaction be like at school? Things had to be different now, right? I was different. I caught another glance at myself and winked.
Nope, being invisible was no longer an option.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I lay in bed thinking about what I’d done to myself the night before. Part of me wondered whether it had all been a dream, and my heart began to sink at the thought. I’d been so blown away by the transformation that had taken place that I couldn’t bear to think it wouldn’t be there again this morning.
Mustering up all my courage, I launched myself out of bed and walked over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of my door.
Oh. My. God.
What I saw reflected back at me was even better than I’d remembered. Logically, I knew that I’d been asleep for hours, probably tossing and turning in bed, but you couldn’t tell by the way I looked. My hair, though tousled, looked shiny and beautiful, just like a shampoo commercial. And the volume I seemed to have naturally was the bedhead look that people spent hours trying to achieve. My new clear skin was dewy and fresh, and upon closer inspection, I doubted I’d need much makeup today at all.
No need to cover up perfection.
I spent about ten minutes poking and prodding myself, barely able to believe it was all me. And it didn’t matter which angle I studied myself, because I loved every bit of my new look.
I spent so much time looking in the mirror, in fact, that I ended up having to rush my morning routine in order to not be late. The time it took me to get ready was cut down considerably, though, now that I had a lot less to worry about. There were no zits to cover, no need for product to tame my wild hair. My eyes popped no matter what I wore, and my clothes just fit better. I looked hot.
I’d been in bed by the time my parents had come home from a dinner they’d been roped into with our neighbors, so I’d managed to avoid the backlash of my makeover. And this morning, I timed my departure perfectly so I could sneak out of the house unseen. It’s not that I thought they’d be mad, really, but I knew they’d have questions for me. And the truth was, I still wasn’t quite sure what I was going to tell them. Besides, I sort of wanted to see if my makeover was going to have any impact on my social life before I decided whether the confrontation was worth it or not.
Dressed in a skirt that showed off my killer legs—which had always been nice, but until now I hadn’t been confident enough to show off—and a sequined tank, I gave myself one final glance in the mirror before heading off to school.
I was so busy thinking about how people were going to react that before I knew it, I was ambling up the steps. With butterflies swarming around inside my stomach, I took ahold of the front doors and pulled them open, feeling like I was about to make my grand entrance.
As I walked inside, I began to worry that no matter what I did, my social standing at school was set in stone. I watched as kids scrambled down the hall, either trying to find their friends or hustling to their lockers before classes started. The smile I’d plastered on my face for the moment that people saw the changes in me slowly began to sag into a frown.
There was no reaction at all.
A guy brushed past me then, knocking me out of his way as he went, and mumbled an unconvincing “sorry.” But then something happened. He lifted his eyes long enough to look at me—and continued to stare as he walked away. His mouth fell slightly open, and he completely abandoned the conversation he’d been having with his buddies. This caused them all to turn and look my way, which created a similar reaction.
My smile shot back onto my face as I collected myself and began to try my best to strut down the hallway. As my heels clicked against the floor, I started to get into a rhythm and noticed excitedly that my new curves were lending to a slightly more seductive walk. Not knowing if it was working or not, I dared to place one hand on my hip, à la Ms. Tyra Banks, and walked straight ahead.
People began to whisper, quietly at first, and then I could hear bits and pieces of conversations going on all around me.
“Who’s that?”
“I bet she’s new.”
“Uh, this is a hallway, not a runway.”
Even the negative comments couldn’t wipe the grin off my face as I soaked up the attention I’d always dreamed about getting.
“Damn, girl. Looking good!” This came from Brad Pinkerton, the same guy who’d bodychecked me just a couple of days ago. I rolled my eyes. He wouldn’t apologize then, but he was hitting on me now? Yeah, right.
As one of my teachers walked by, I gave her a little wave. “Hi, Mrs. Garrett,” I said.
“Hello, Ms. . . .” she began, but then stopped. She squinted at me as if she was having trouble seeing me.
She didn’t recognize me.
“It’s me, Brooklyn,” I said, smiling.
“Brooklyn! Well, well, look at you,” she stammered, before hurrying off to class, confused.
I shrugged and then continued on to my locker. By this time I had the attention of everyone within eyeshot and was uber-aware that my every move was being watched and analyzed. Praying that I wouldn’t trip in my heels and remind them all who I really was, I took my time getting in my locker and collecting my books. I tried desperately to act like I didn’t notice everyone staring and continued on my way to my first class.
I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in my breath until I sat down
in first-period history and let it out slowly.
Well, that went well.
Better than expected, actually. And all the attention, albeit exciting, was a little bit odd, too. I was still the same person I was before—only blonder, with better skin and a butt that belonged in a music video.
I was still me.
I was so totally lost in thought that I didn’t even notice when Eliza and Wheatley walked in and took their regular seats just a few away from me. When I finally looked up from my desk, I saw them both staring in my direction. It wasn’t the same way that the others had been looking at me; this was more like curiosity than awe or heated interest.
I turned to make sure they weren’t looking at anyone behind me, but saw that I was the only one in their line of sight. As I turned back around, I knocked my pile of books off my desk and they landed with a clatter on the floor. My face growing hot, I scrambled to retrieve them as subtly as I could.
Oh, why couldn’t there be an anti-clumsiness spell?
When I finally got everything back on my desk, I snuck a glance at Eliza and Wheatley, who had gone back to focusing on their own stuff. Still, I noted, a glance from The Elite was better than what I’d gotten before, which was a big, fat nothing. And they had been looking at me, so the makeover couldn’t have been a total flop.
As others filtered into the room, I got more surprised looks. And when the noise in the class began to rise, I couldn’t help but think everyone was talking about me. Whether it was good or bad, I couldn’t tell, but one look around and I knew it was true.
Finally, the teacher showed up and quieted everyone down, although that didn’t stop people from staring. I tried my best to act like everything was business as usual, but it was hard to do, considering the fact that I’d never had this much attention focused on me in my entire life. Even forcing myself to concentrate on the lecture we were being given on the Roman Empire wasn’t working. After a few minutes, I gave up and picked at my nails instead.
What the Spell Part 1 Page 3