“That’s so sad.”
“Yep.”
I knew we weren’t just talking about Shayla and Tucker. The fact was, we were in a similar situation. As much as I wanted to believe that the spell had worked—or preferably, that we hadn’t needed the spell at all—I felt paralyzed to make that first move. To let Asher know just how much I liked him.
Because if he didn’t feel the same . . . well, I might just die of humiliation. Or a broken heart. Either way, it would suck.
“So . . .” I said.
“So.”
The air between us was electric, but I knew that nothing was going to happen in a restaurant full of loud teenagers. No, if anything was going to happen, we’d have to leave.
“So, I was telling Abby the other day that I’ve been having a really tough time with the exploding spell,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, yeah? Your aim is probably just off,” Asher said, taking a sip of his soda.
I watched his lips fold around the straw and wondered if they were soft. They looked soft. I was never going to be able to concentrate on anything normal ever again if I was constantly wondering what it would be like to be with Asher!
“That’s what Abby said too,” I mumbled, still mesmerized by his mouth. When I was finally able to pull my eyes away and focused them again on his, I realized that he knew exactly what I’d been staring at.
“We could get out of here,” he suggested, looking at me through a lock of hair that had fallen in his face. “Go somewhere and practice the spell a bit if you want.”
My stomach began to buzz with nerves at the prospect of going somewhere we could be alone.
Check, please.
“Sure. Yeah, let’s go practice.”
Asher paid the bill and we made our way out to the parking lot to our separate vehicles.
“I know where we can go,” Asher said as he climbed on the back of his motorcycle. “Follow me?”
“Of course.”
I climbed in my car and started the engine, giving myself a moment to take a deep breath. I wanted so badly for something to happen between me and Asher that my chest ached at the thought that it wouldn’t. Was it possible that I was just seeing what I wanted to see in this situation, since I knew I’d bound us? Or were we really making a connection?
Pulling out into traffic, I made sure to follow right behind Asher, keeping my eyes trained on his back. As I drove, I imagined what it would be like to sit on the back of his bike, my arms around his waist, feeling his muscles as I gripped him tightly . . .
Suddenly, he made a sharp right and I had to swerve to avoid running into him. We’d pulled onto a dirt road about five minutes outside of the city. Several more minutes went by as we made our way farther down the tree-lined road and finally into a clearing up ahead. We parked and got out, listening to the quiet of the night.
“Where are we?” I asked, looking around and seeing that the place was empty except for us and the trees.
“This is where I like to go sometimes, when I need to get away,” he said, walking slowly over to me. “Nobody else knows where this place is. Not even Abby.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling myself blush as he said it. “Well, what do you do here?”
“Sometimes I practice spells, other times I just think. It’s my own secret hideaway.”
“It’s amazing,” I breathed, surveying the scene. I dug the toe of my Converse shoe into the ground to give myself something to do. “So quiet and . . . gravelly.”
He crossed the space between us and reached out to grab ahold of my hands. His hands felt soft in mine and fully covered each of my palms. My pulse sped up as we touched, and I began to sweat, suddenly so nervous I could hardly contain myself.
I can’t believe this is happening!
“This isn’t where I hang out, Brooklyn,” he said with a little laugh. He began to pull me toward him, until my feet started to move. And then we were walking, making our way toward the bushes in front of us. When we got up to them, Asher let go of my hand in order to push the branches to the side and let us through. “I want to show you something.”
I nodded. At this point, he could’ve been taking me to some creepy cabin in the woods to make me his personal slave—and not in a good way—but I didn’t care. I still would’ve gone with him.
It was hard to see in the darkness as we navigated through a foresty area, but luckily Asher knew exactly where he was going. After a few minutes, I began to see a light up ahead and before I knew it, we’d broken through the woods and were standing on the shore of a beach.
“I had no idea there was a beach here,” I breathed, admiring the way the moonlight danced off the water. The rhythmic sound of the waves lapping onshore was soothing, and I could see why Asher came here to think. Everything was calm and quiet. It was the perfect place to be alone with your thoughts.
Or with the boy you liked.
“Pretty cool, huh?” he asked. “It’s great because you can really be alone out here. There’s no one to bother you.”
“Yeah,” I said, thinking about what he was saying.
“We can do as much magic as we want and we don’t have to worry about getting caught.” He moved to my side and looked out at the water with me. After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “So . . . uh, you want to try that spell again?”
“Huh?” I asked, confused. “Spell?”
“Yeah, you know, the explosion spell? That’s why we’re out here, right?”
“Oh, sure. Of course,” I stammered, bringing myself back down to reality. “The spell.”
“Why don’t you show me what you’ve been doing and I’ll see if I can figure out what you’re doing wrong.”
Asher started collecting big shells from the beach and placed them in a row on a nearby log that had washed up onshore. It was nighttime, but the moon was so bright here that I had no problem seeing the targets. Now I just had to make sure I didn’t get distracted by what I was doing. Or not doing, I should say.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself to perform the spell. Training my eyes on the first shell in the lineup, I felt the energy building inside me as I raised my hand toward the target and took aim.
“Detonimous vastomia!”
The power flew out of me like a bullet escaping a gun and within seconds the space just below and to the left of the shell exploded in a mass of splintered wood.
Asher walked over to the log and studied the spot before walking back to where I was standing and, now, pouting. “So, you seem to be aiming a little left of center,” he said.
“No kidding,” I said, annoyed that I still wasn’t hitting the mark and even more annoyed that I’d been so off base about Asher’s feelings toward me.
“Just aim a little more to your right and try again.”
I sighed and took my typical spell-casting stance: feet shoulder-width apart, body relaxed, head held high. Looking exactly at the center of the same shell, I raised my hand again, this time aiming just right of it. Calling on all the power I had, I yelled out the words.
“Detonimous vastomia!”
The wood blew up again, this time to the right of the target. “Are you freaking kidding me?” I asked, moaning. I fell to the sand in frustration. “I can’t do it. God, you must think I’m such a loser.”
Asher walked over and knelt next to me. “You’re not a loser, Brooklyn,” he said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “You’re just losing today.”
It was really sweet of him to say, but I couldn’t help feeling like a failure. All I wanted to do was impress him, and here I was, not even able to hit a stupid shell. And Asher was practically a pro at this magic stuff. No way was he going to want to be with a girl who was magically challenged.
“It’s just embarrassing that I’m this bad,” I confessed, looking down at my hands like they were somehow failing me.
“Why are you embarrassed?” Asher asked with a laugh. “You’re doing great for someone who’s learning. A
nd besides, it’s just me. Who cares what I think?”
“I can’t help it . . . I care what everyone thinks,” I said. “I mean, maybe not everyone, but everyone that matters. People at school, The Elite—”
“Yeah, why is that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and looking confused. “They put their pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us. They might be designer pants, but you get the idea. Why do you want to impress them so much?”
“They’re like teen royalty at school. Everyone looks up to them. And if you’re one of them, that means you’re somebody,” I said. “I want to be somebody, Asher.”
“You’re already somebody to me,” he said.
Swoon.
“Really?”
“Of course,” he said, his fingers finding mine. I turned to look at him and found that he was already gazing at me. “Now, come on. Let’s try this again.”
He pulled me up until I was standing in the sand, facing the log lined with shells. But instead of stepping away and letting me take aim, he came up behind me and pressed his chest against my back. I felt his hand make its way up my side until it reached my shoulder and then move down the length of my arm. Finally, his hand rested on top of mine and we raised our arms together. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. He smelled like clean linen with the slightest hint of something spicy. It was delicious.
“Now look at the target and take aim.” I did what he said, but it took everything in me not to just melt into his arms. “Relax your mind and think about what you’re doing.”
But all I could think about was kissing him.
He moved my hand slowly until it was pointed in the direction of the shell. I shivered as his breath tickled my neck.
“Now say the words,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.
“Detonimous vastomia . . .”
I managed to get the words out just before Asher pulled me around and our lips touched. The sound of the shell shattering rang out through the night.
How can I possibly thank all the people who’ve changed my life forever? Well, I can’t, but here’s my valiant effort. First, a world of thanks to everyone at Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers for fighting for this series and being just as excited about it as I am. Alexandra Cooper, editor extraordinaire, for really “getting” these characters and making the revision process a truly enjoyable experience. You took this book and made it magical. Justin Chanda, for giving me a chance to make this the year of the witch. Amy Rosenbaum, for being just as punny as I am. Siena Koncsol, for sharing in my love of everything Whedonesque. And, of course, Paul Crichton, Krista Vossen, Jenica Nasworthy, Dorothy Gribbin, Chava Wolin, Bernadette Cruz, Elke Villa, Chrissy Noh, Lucille Rettino, and Anne Zafian, for working their magic on a daily basis.
Love and thanks to my phenomenal agent, Kevan Lyon, for being my guide through this crazy world of publishing, yet never telling me what to do. You’re cool, smart, and such a great teacher. Taryn Fagerness, for getting my books out to the rest of the world—you were one of the first phone calls I got and you set me up with the best agenting team in the world. Brandy Rivers . . . I can’t begin to describe what a dream it is to work with you! I can’t wait to see this witchy world on the screen. Oh, and thank you for letting me borrow your last name for Eliza’s character!
I have so much gratitude for those who’ve had a hand in my success (but might not know it): To everyone at Wattpad, thank you for giving me an amazing platform to tell my stories before anyone knew who I was. And for all my fans on Wattpad . . . it’s because of you that my dreams are coming true. I can’t underplay those who’ve inspired me with their ability to tell great stories: Joss Whedon, Meg Cabot, Christopher Pike, John Carpenter, Jessica Bendinger, Wes Craven, Tori Spelling, and Rob Thomas. Thank you for letting your imaginations run wild and sharing it with the rest of us. Without the incredible gluten-free muffins from Pip’s Place, in NYC, I never would’ve made it through revisions. Thanks to Denise and the rest of the staff for keeping me happy, healthy, and full. Calvin Reid, thank you for taking this underdog and making her a top dog. You’re a class act with a huge heart.
No girl can survive without her crew, so I have to give shout-outs to Amanda Healy, Tammy West, Kate Chapman, Jessica Grant, Alicia and Sue Chouinard, and Zachary Booth. You were there for me when I was just an “aspiring” writer and always indulged me in my crazy dreams. You’re all rock stars in my book!
Lastly, I’ve been beyond lucky to have such a loving and supporting family. Mom, Dad, Jacey, and Amy, I have so much gratitude for the fact that you never set limits for what I could accomplish. I’ve loved being on this journey with you. To the Gielens, thanks for treating me like one of the family. And Matt . . . thank you for challenging me while being my number-one fan. I’m excited to conquer the world with you.
To the powers that be: Thank you for finding me worthy of telling your stories.
* * *
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An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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www.SimonandSchuster.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2012 by Brittany Lyn Geragotelis
This book was previously published in electronic serial form in 2012.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Book design by Krista Vossen
The text for this book is set in Granjon.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Geragotelis, Brittany.
What the spell / Brittany Geragotelis.
p. cm. — (Life’s a witch)
Summary: When Brooklyn, a witch, turns sixteen, her conservative parents finally unbind her powers, bringing her newfound popularity and the attention of her long-time crush, Asher, but using spells may endanger her and, unless she uses her special ability to magically match couples, she may lose Asher.
ISBN 978-1-4424-6815-3 (hardback) — ISBN 978-1-4424-6702-6 (eBook) — ISBN 978-1-4424-6707-1 (paperback) [1. Witches—Fiction. 2. Magic—Fiction. 3. Love—Fiction. 4. Peer pressure—Fiction. 5. Cliques (Sociology)—Fiction. 6. Popularity—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G29348Wh 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2012025114
What the Spell Part 1 Page 10