The Witch Is Back

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The Witch Is Back Page 7

by Brittany Geragotelis


  “Hadley Bishop,” I said confidently. Then, I did something I would never suggest doing in front of your idol. I totally geeked out. “Can I just say that I’m a huge, huge fan? I’ve read all of your books and seen every episode of your show, and I think you’re amazing. It’s such an inspiration and an honor to have you here.”

  “Well, aren’t you a doll,” Mrs. B said, beaming from my compliment. “And from what I’ve heard, you’re a bit of a legend yourself.”

  Was she serious? Had my biggest idol really heard about me? Immediately, I began to blush and looked down at the ground suddenly shy. When I glanced back up, I saw Jasmine staring at me, jaw dropped open in shock. I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking it, too. I hadn’t destroyed Samuel Parris on my own, yet mine was the name everyone seemed to remember.

  “Well then, Miss Bishop—dazzle me,” Mrs. B said, kindly.

  I closed my eyes and let my mind quiet the best I could while being surrounded by dozens of loud teenage girls and one celebrity. I imagined the spell I was about to do and felt the power begin to build from the tips of my toes.

  When I opened my eyes again, my gaze immediately met Brooklyn’s on the other side of camp. Even though I was too far away to actually see her clearly, I swear she was staring straight at me. Taunting me. Without saying anything to each other, it was as if the gauntlet had been thrown.

  Bring it on, witch.

  Brooklyn went first, calling out an exploding spell that made contact with a tree just a few feet away from her. Splinters flew through the air, but she didn’t move away, just calmly picked chips of wood out of her perfect hair.

  Then, subtly, she looked over at me to see what I was going to do.

  So that’s how you want to play.

  Abandoning the original spells I’d been planning to do, I followed her lead. Aiming at another tree, I quickly squared up and called out, “Exbiliby totalitum!” As soon as the words had left my mouth, the spell hit the middle of the trunk and exploded loudly. The force was so strong that the whole thing shook, causing more pinecones to join their fallen brothers on the ground.

  “Whoa! Nicely done, Bishop,” Mrs. B said.

  I smiled at her and then quickly looked back at Brooklyn to show that it was her turn. She frowned, straightened up, and prepared for her next spell.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and then smoothed down her flirty teal skirt, which matched the flowery halter she was wearing. Brooklyn put her focus on an overturned log in front of her, which had been left as rustic seating. With a few choice words, the wood began to levitate and then hovered ten feet in the air. Severing her connection with the spell, she allowed the object to fall back down to the ground and land with a thump just inches from her feet.

  Looking around for my own log, I finally found the one I wanted, and pointed at it determinedly.

  “Hermia Leffner!” I said. Someone gasped behind me as I proceeded to raise an overturned log along with the girl who’d been sitting on it moments before. I lifted them both into the air as easily as if it was a feather. My unknowing participant appeared nervous at first, but the stream of magic was so steady that she quickly recognized that she was no more in danger of falling than she had been when the wood was firmly on the ground. With a grin that I hoped would annoy Brooklyn, I gently lowered the log along with the girl on it. When her feet were back on the ground, the girl jumped up and began chatting excitedly to her friends about her brief flight.

  “Good use of your surroundings,” Mrs. B commented. “But a witch should never test her magic on others. Not until it’s been perfected at least. By the looks of it though, this wasn’t your first time performing this particular spell. Am I correct?”

  “No, ma’am, it wasn’t,” I said.

  “Ew. Please don’t call me ma’am,” Mrs. B said, making a face. “It sounds so . . . old.”

  “Right,” I said, embarrassed.

  Brooklyn was already beginning to cast her next spell. I’d one-upped her each time, but now I had to bring my A game. Show everyone who was the superior witch at this camp. The crown would be mine.

  I couldn’t make out what she was saying since she was so far away, but I knew something was already beginning to happen around us. The hairs on my arms began to stand straight up and I could feel my limbs start to buzz unnaturally. I looked down at my body, trying to figure out what was going on, when the lights in the amphitheater began to dim. Then they all went completely black before flickering a few times, then beginning to pulse.

  Then, as if we were watching a light show at Christmas, the bulbs began to go crazy, dancing around to their own unheard beat. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch. To my dismay, even Mrs. B paused to take a look.

  “Well, that was festive,” Mrs. B said once Brooklyn was finished.

  Show-off.

  “Okay, last spell!” Mrs. B announced to me.

  I had to make it count, so I thought about the most difficult spell that I could do without endangering those around me. The counselors wouldn’t be impressed if I ended up sending someone to the hospital on the first day.

  With a final glance at Brooklyn, I cast the spell that would end it all.

  “Immobius totarium!”

  Nearly everyone in the area stopped what they were doing once the words had been spoken. Some were mid-step. Others were finishing up spells. But now they were all frozen. Except for the counselors. Based on Counselor Crazy’s reaction to my trying to influence him earlier, I’d decided casting on the adults might not impress them after all. Besides, it was better for me if they could actually see what I was capable of.

  “Holy smokes—” Mrs. B said, as she noticed that everyone had ceased moving.

  “Keep watching,” I said, grinning at her conspiratorially. Saying another spell, I sent pinecones floating through the air and into the hands of the other twitches. And for the ones whose hands weren’t open, I balanced pinecones on shoulders, feet, and various other places on their bodies. Mrs. B smiled as she realized what I was doing and waited patiently as I finished. When everything was in place, I severed the energy I’d been putting into the spell and watched people resume what they were doing.

  To the others, it was as if the pinecones had just magically appeared in their hands. But Mrs. B and the other counselors knew what had really happened.

  And they were impressed.

  You know who wasn’t? Brooklyn.

  As soon as time went back to normal, the pinecone that I’d balanced perfectly on the top of her head began to fall and dropped onto the ground in front of her, narrowly missing the tip of her nose as it did so. She jumped back in surprise and then, realizing that I must have been behind it, she glared at me, unhappy about being the butt of any joke. Especially mine.

  “Very impressive,” Mrs. B said, closing up her notebook with a snap. “I can see that this is going to be a summer full of surprises.”

  “You have no idea,” I answered, returning Brooklyn’s stare.

  Chapter Eight

  I had to admit, I was feeling pretty good after our first twitch session. It was clear that I’d won whatever magical battle had been going on between Brooklyn and me. And logically, I’d won the guy, too. Because regardless of what she was spouting off to everyone else, Asher was mine.

  So why was I letting her get to me like this?

  Truth was, I’d felt off in general since arriving at Brighton. I don’t know if it was the new surroundings or not being totally in charge, but something wasn’t right. And whenever my life felt out of my control, I turned to the only thing that seemed to help clear my cluttered mind.

  Fashion.

  We had fifteen minutes to kill before dinner, and I used it to sneak back to the room and play dress-up. It was one of my favorite things to do, and after the day I’d had, I needed it.

  I fully believed that a great outfit could change any mood. A fabulous frock, a badass biker jacket—each look had the power to t
ransform its wearer. Right now I was craving comfort. And that’s what fashion was for me. I loved it with a passion that was difficult to describe to others. I prided myself in knowing designers, paid attention to trends, and loved choosing looks for friends that would compliment their figures. A traffic-stopping outfit was like a breath of fresh air for me.

  I pushed my key into the lock and let myself into our room, noting with relief that I was alone. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong or embarrassing, but it would be a heck of a lot easier to zone out if I didn’t have to talk or be sociable.

  I wanted to be alone with my clothes.

  Crossing the room, I vaulted easily over the circular couch and rubbed my hands together before placing them on the coffee table. I’d been itching to try the thing out since Colette had shown us what it did. The surface was cool and I could feel the vibrations from its magic penetrate my palms almost immediately. It was faint, like the buzz of a snack dispenser or fridge, but it was there.

  “Fab Sugar,” I said out loud.

  Immediately, the surface of the table began to grow hazy and then showed one of my favorite fashion websites. I began to use the table like a touch-screen phone and navigated my way through stories and galleries, looking for things to try on.

  Once I’d found a few, I stood up and concentrated on the first outfit I’d pulled. It was a gold couture gown that a big-time actress had worn to a recent charity ball. Then, raising my hand above my head and moving it down my body like a scanner, I said the magic words.

  “Alluvé magniosa.”

  My shorts and top elongated into a floor-length gown. Elaborate and intricate designs covered the bodice, accentuating my upper half in all the right places. The bottom flared out, giving a little bit of room for my legs to move in.

  It was stunning—and according to the site, it retailed for about fifteen thousand. Not exactly appropriate camp wear, but that wasn’t what this session was for anyway. This was more like window-shopping therapy.

  And just because an outfit wasn’t right for today didn’t mean I couldn’t find somewhere to wear it in the future.

  Next!

  I bit my lip with glee as I tried on the next outfit. This one was even more outrageous than the last and as I admired the cuts and angles of the design, I felt myself begin to calm down. After about five minutes, I was fully relaxed and prepared to take on whatever came next.

  But I’d need a fierce outfit to do it in.

  With a surge of excitement that I hadn’t had all day, I chose my final outfit carefully. There was a lot to consider. I didn’t want to wear anything too fancy to dinner; we were in the middle of nowhere, after all. But just because we were surrounded by woods, it didn’t mean I had to rough it.

  So I chose a sheer flowery dress that was short in the front and long in the back. As I walked, the fabric billowed behind me like a cape flapping in the wind. Conjuring a thin braided brown belt, I cinched the dress at the waist to break up the design. Another simple spell left my dark hair falling around my face in beachy waves. A swipe of a pale gloss across my lips and a pair of brown gladiator sandals later and I was heading out the door to meet the others.

  The dining hall wasn’t actually attached to the main house. It was located in what appeared from the outside to be a small cottage about a hundred feet from the amphitheater. With rows of flowers adorning each side of the path leading up to the building, it looked more like someone’s grandmother’s house than a cafeteria. In fact, it was hard to believe that we’d all be able to fit into such a small space.

  Of course, when I stepped through the doors, it quickly made sense. They’d obviously used the same perception spell they’d used on the main house, because inside, the place was huge. Round tables were set up around the room, each with plenty of space between the next so people could spread out. The lights were dimmed just enough to soften things.

  As I continued to check out the space, Jasmine walked right past me without a backward glance, and headed straight to the food line. Shaking my head, I followed suit, picking up my own tray and stepping in line behind her, not realizing how hungry I was until I saw what they were serving.

  “Mac and cheese!” I exclaimed, suddenly feeling like the day was looking up. Individual bowls of ooey-gooey pasta covered the counter and I scanned the group looking for the biggest one. “It’s a Brighton miracle.”

  “Craving comfort food, are we?” Jasmine asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Don’t skinny girls like you hate carbs or something?”

  “Everything in moderation,” I answered, not even bothering to be offended by her question. Happily, I’d never had to worry about my weight before. I was lucky to have great genes, and I’d always been active, both in self-defense and cheerleading. Throw in the occasional morning jogs with Dad and you had a body that could burn off just about anything.

  “Lucky you,” Jasmine muttered. I couldn’t tell if she was joking or just being her usual “cheery” self. The truth was, our little black widow had nothing to worry about either. She had nice, muscular legs and a small waist. In fact, her boobs were the biggest things on her and nobody was going to complain about that.

  I watched as Jasmine opted for the eggplant parmigiana and then picked up some kind of chocolaty volcano-looking contraption. Curious over what it was, I took one too, and then filled a glass with seltzer before heading out into the seating area.

  “There are the others,” she said, nodding to a table in the back. Colette, Abby, Fallon, Sascha, and Jinx were already sitting down and eating.

  As we walked, I scanned the room to see if Brooklyn was there. I felt like I needed to know where she was at all times so I could be better prepared for her next attack. So far, that’s what my interactions with her had felt like. Attacks.

  When I didn’t see her or her posse, I sat down next to Abby and picked up my fork. It wasn’t lost on me that Asher hadn’t shown up yet either. I hoped it was just a coincidence.

  I stabbed at my mac and cheese, forcing myself to tune in to what the others were talking about around the table.

  “Did they make you guys show them your toughest spells too?” Sascha asked Fallon.

  “Yeah,” he said between bites. “And I kicked serious magic butt.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I said, trying to engage myself in the conversation.

  “For real. I knew so much more than the other guys my age,” he said.

  “Thanks to our boot camp last fall,” I said, bringing up the sessions we’d held leading up to our fight with the Parrishables.

  “Thanks to me being awesome,” he answered with a smile. Colette giggled next to him and Abby tried to hide a smile before placing a forkful of food into her mouth. This made him grin even wider.

  I ignored him. “How did Asher do?” I asked instead.

  “Fine, I guess,” he said, sounding bored now that he wasn’t talking about himself. “I wasn’t in his group, though. He has these two other guys as roommates. I was with the guys I’m rooming with. Blew them out of the water, too.”

  “Okay, we get, we get it. You’re the baddest witch here,” I said.

  “You said it, I didn’t,” Fallon said, getting another laugh out of Colette.

  “Had,” Jinx said suddenly. She’d been quiet up until then, sort of blending into the background and occasionally taking tiny bites of her food. A look at her plate showed that she’d barely eaten anything. I’d already devoured more than half of my plate and she’d been sitting there longer than I had. Either I was a human vacuum cleaner or Jinx had lost her appetite.

  Jinx’s expression remained stony as she discreetly pointed in the direction to our right. My head swung around and focused on the front of the dining area, where Asher was now walking, his tray heaped full of food.

  Keeping in step beside him was Brooklyn.

  The two stared at each other intently as they spoke in hushed tones. Brooklyn pushed a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear as Asher leaned
in to say something to her. He placed his hand on her back as they weaved through a group of kids who were heading back for seconds. My eyes narrowed as I watched them, and I let out a silent scream inside my head.

  So much for my Zen attitude.

  He said something else to Brooklyn and she smiled. I imagined them sharing a private moment. Asher’s eyes found mine then, and his hand dropped to his side limply. Rage slowly filled me as he broke off from her then and headed straight over to where we were sitting. Following behind him were two guys, carrying their own full trays.

  I set my eyes on my food and concentrated on taking another bite, when in reality I’d lost my appetite. I couldn’t even enjoy the mac and cheese anymore. A shadow fell over me a few seconds later and then a seat scraped across the floor as Asher pulled it out next to me.

  “Got room for three more?” he asked, his voice light and friendly. Like I hadn’t seen what had just happened. “Guys, these are my roommates, Hudson and Dane.”

  “Hey,” we all said in response.

  “Sher here says this is your first time at Brighton,” the guy that had been introduced as Hudson said, before digging into the feast in front of him.

  Sher? Then it clicked. They were talking about Asher. We’d been at Brighton for like, a hot minute. How had they found time between classes and ex-girlfriend ogling to come up with nicknames for each other?

  “Sher’s right,” Jasmine said sarcastically. Asher gave her a look that told her to play nice.

  “This is my fourth year at Brighton,” Hudson said, like it was a badge of honor. “I practically grew up here.”

  Grew was the operative word in Hudson’s case. The guy was about six feet tall and had a stocky athletic build to him. The chino shorts and polo shirt he was sporting made him look like your typical country-club jock. His dark hair was cut short—probably so it wouldn’t get in the way when he played sports—and showed off his caramel-colored eyes perfectly.

  All in all, he was good-looking and seemed friendly enough.

 

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