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The Witch Is Back

Page 12

by Brittany Geragotelis


  “Is somebody out there?!” I yelled.

  There was no response.

  The water was already up to my hips and I started to panic.

  Think, think, think. I looked around frantically like I was suddenly going to find something that would help break me out of the mess I was in. But all I’d brought in with me was a razor, a loofah, and some shampoo and conditioner. Nobody had told me I’d need heavier artillery to survive my nightly shower.

  Luckily, I was always prepared with my own personal emergency witch kit. Me.

  My solution was a bit destructive, I admit, but by now I was convinced I had no other choice. I had to get out of this water coffin before I drowned in it. Flattening myself against the shower wall, I closed my eyes and braced myself for what I was about to do.

  “Exbiliby totalitum!”

  I felt the exploding spell as it left my body and waited for the sound of shattering glass. My heart sank when it never came.

  My mind raced. There was no reason those spells shouldn’t have worked. Even in the middle of a freak-out, something should have happened. A crack in the glass, a poof of smoke from the residual magic. It was as if my powers were useless. Only, I’d felt it. The magic had been cast, something had just prevented it from working.

  Was this a magic shortage? I’d heard of them happening to new witches or ones going through puberty, but I’d never experienced it myself. And I’d certainly never shot blanks before. It was embarrassing, but more than that, it made me feel something even worse.

  Helpless.

  Without magic, what did I have? I looked down at my hands, searching for an answer, and reluctantly found it.

  I began to beat my fists on the door again, screaming for somebody, anybody, to help me. I knew at some point someone would come in. This was a given. There were thirty girls at camp and only one bathroom. You didn’t have to be a genius to do the math. I just hoped it wasn’t too late when they finally did.

  The water was lapping at my shoulders, making it more and more difficult to move.

  “Please! Somebody help me!” I yelled, frantically.

  “Hello?” a voice finally called out. It was hard to hear at first, over the sound of water hitting water. But then it got closer and I could see the shadow of a body on the other side of the glass.

  “I’m stuck inside the shower,” I called out. “And the water won’t turn off. It’s filling up. I need you to get me out!”

  “Er, Hadley?” the voice said. “Is that you?”

  Then I recognized her.

  “Abby? Please, you’ve got to do something!”

  “Okay. Stupid question, but did you try magic?” she asked.

  “It didn’t work,” I said, too panicked to say “duh.”

  “Hmmm. Let me just try . . . ,” she said and I could see her shuffle around outside the stall. A few seconds later, the door sprung open and water rushed out like a broken dam, soaking Abby in the process. I stumbled out of the shower, reaching for my towel as I fell to the ground. My breath came in short spurts and I felt like I’d just run a marathon. Water was still hitting my face and I realized with surprise that I’d started crying.

  “Are you okay, Had?” Abby asked, concerned. She bent down and placed her hand on my shoulder, waiting for me to calm down.

  “Someone just tried to drown me,” I choked out. “So, no. I’m not okay.”

  Abby’s face didn’t change as I snapped at her. Instead, she stood back up and looked down at me confused as she tried to ring the water from her pajama pants. I took another few deeps breaths and tried to gather myself.

  “I’m sorry, Abby, I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” I said, looking up at her gratefully. Then it dawned on me. “How did you get me out, anyway?”

  Abby bit her lip and then glanced at the shower door and then back at me. It was as if she didn’t know how to respond and it felt like an eternity before she did.

  “It just opened,” she said softly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I pulled on it and it opened.”

  “That’s not possible,” I said, feeling the hysteria begin to creep into my voice. “I tried everything to get out. Nothing worked.”

  “Maybe it was locked from the inside?” Abby offered, but I could tell she didn’t believe it.

  Other girls began to wander into the shower area then and looked at us with curiosity. A few commented on the water on the floor, but none of them asked what happened. They’d probably just gossip about it later.

  “Somebody locked me in and blocked my powers,” I said, my teeth beginning to chatter as the chilly air hit my still-wet skin. When everyone continued to look at me blankly, I took one more look at the shower before rushing through the group of girls toward the exit. “And I’m going to find out who.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Call it intuition, a hunch, or an educated guess, but somehow I knew deep down in my bones that it was Brooklyn who was behind the stunt in the bathroom. She was one of the only people at Brighton who had a problem with me, and had all but told me to watch my back. Beyond that, outside of the other Cleri members, there were only a handful of girls who had the skills needed to pull off something like that.

  The only problem was: I had no way of proving it.

  As I stomped down the hallway, I contemplated going to Brooklyn’s room and confronting her. Right then and there. But with my only evidence gone with the steam, it was likely I’d just come off looking like a bully. Or crazy. Possibly both.

  I remembered the way Abby had stared down at me as I lay on the tile floor, clutching the soaked towel to my body. When I’d insisted that I’d been locked in the shower, she hadn’t believed me. And there was something else in her eyes, too. Pity. Maybe even a hint of worry.

  It made me want to scream.

  I thought about going to Asher and telling him what had happened. That his psycho ex had just tried to maim me in an effort to succeed in her evil plan to get back together with him. The idea was only entertained briefly before I came back down to reality and decided to take care of everything myself. I could handle one power-hungry, jealous witch. I’d done it before and I could do it again.

  But to do so, I needed to gather more information on Brooklyn. Knowledge is power and all that. True, Asher had told me a lot about their relationship, but I had a feeling there was more to the story. Like, in an effort to create less drama, maybe he’d left some details out. And to get them, I needed to talk to someone who was close to the situation but was a little less partial.

  Someone like Abby.

  True, she wasn’t my ideal choice, considering what had just happened in the bathroom. But she was the only other person who knew Brooklyn as well as Asher did. And I desperately needed inside information.

  I shoved open the door to our empty room and slammed it behind me. Still clutching the towel around my body, I stalked over to my dresser and pulled out some shorts and a tank top, and then got dressed as quickly as I could. I felt chilled all the way to the bone and slipped on an oversize hoodie to warm up, but it didn’t seem to help. Stepping into a pair of fluffy turquoise slippers, I tied my hair up on top of my head messily, and then started to move toward the door to go find Abby.

  Just as I was reaching the other side of the room, the door opened up revealing exactly the person I’d been hoping to find.

  “You okay?” she asked, crossing over to her bed. Sitting down carefully, Abby picked up a leather-bound notebook that I hadn’t noticed was lying there and pushed it between her pillows in one motion.

  I mirrored Abby and sat down on my own mattress.

  “I need you to tell me everything about Brooklyn. And I get that you guys were friends—are still friends maybe—and you probably don’t want to betray her confidence, but she’s out to get me. This thing tonight with the shower? It wasn’t an accident. It was her. But to prove it, I need more on her.”

  “And if it’s not her?” Abby asked, evenly.
r />   “Then getting to the truth will prove that and I’ll let everything go,” I said.

  “What do you want to know?” Abby asked.

  I closed my mouth abruptly as I processed what she’d said. I’d been sure it would take more convincing than that to get her to talk to me about Brooklyn and Asher. Either Abby wasn’t as good of friends with Brooklyn as I’d thought or she was sure that my learning the truth would exonerate her. I almost abandoned my line of questioning to ask Abby which it was, but I sort of had a one-track focus.

  “Well, okay, um . . . Asher told me a little about her already. That Brooklyn came into her powers, gave herself a makeover and tried to become popular . . . yada, yada, yada. The two of them obviously dated, but then she lied to him about a bunch of stuff and kissed someone else, so Asher broke up with her.”

  “All true,” Abby confirmed with a nod.

  “I need to know if she’s a match for me,” I said. Then, hesitating, I amended my question to be more specific. “Magically, I mean.”

  “Well, Brooklyn only gained the ability to cast a little over a year and a half ago. We had to teach her the most rudimentary spells. Ones the rest of us learned as children. So, from the beginning, she was behind all of us in skill,” Abby said. “But she was a quick study and was really into honing her craft. Since I haven’t been around her since . . . we moved, I can’t be sure how much she’s improved. However, from what I’ve seen so far, I’d say she’s been busy.”

  I nodded, thinking back to when Brooklyn had shown off her best magicking skills in front of the counselors. She wasn’t up to my level yet, but she’d been able to hold her own. In fact, she was better than average.

  I frowned as I thought about this.

  “Is there anything else I need to know about her?” I asked. “Anything that could give her an edge, magic-wise? Something I haven’t seen yet?”

  Abby bit her lip as she thought about how to answer. I was putting her in a difficult position, but I had to at least ask. I needed to understand what I was up against. She had to respect that.

  “I’m not asking for all her secrets, Abby,” I explained when she hesitated. “Just a level playing field. Apparently everyone is aware of what happened with the Parrishables. I think they’ve even figured out that I’m naturally talented in the art of persuasion. All I know is that Brooklyn used to date my boyfriend, was at one time pretty boring, and just tried to drown me in the shower. I must be missing something here, because none of that adds up.”

  She still seemed to be considering things, and I was feeling desperate, so I pulled out the only thing I had left. “I didn’t start all of this, Ab. Brooklyn did. And I’m not going to let her hurt any of us again.”

  This was the pièce de résistance. Even if Abby didn’t care about me, she cared about Asher. And she’d do whatever she could to see that he didn’t get his heart broken again. She started to talk.

  “Brooklyn has her own ‘unique’ talents, too. Ones that are confined to her lineage, like yours with persuasion and the ability to telecommunicate with the members of your family.”

  I felt the pang of sadness that still came anytime someone brought up my mom. It had been a little annoying back then, but when Mom had been alive she used to be able to read my mind. And if her life had been more exciting, I might’ve utilized this particular skill on her, too. Instead, I mostly focused on shutting her out. Communicating telepathically had been something Bridget Bishop and her daughter had been able to do, too. Our powers only seemed to extend to family, though. Trust me, I’d tried for years to read others’ minds to no avail. This particular gift would’ve come in handy in this situation, come to think of it.

  “Okay. What are these unique talents then?”

  From the look on Abby’s face, I was sort of afraid to ask.

  “Brooklyn has the power to . . . match people. Sort of like Cupid. She can spark an interest in any two people she chooses.”

  “She can perform love spells?” I asked, incredibly. “I didn’t think anyone had that kind of power. Just like the power to bring people back to life . . . love is off-limits.”

  “But infatuation, crushes, lust, instant attraction—apparently those are all gray areas. And that’s what she does. When she matches two people, it gives them the initial push they need to see if the sparks will turn into something stronger. Of course, the connection eventually wears off and the couple is left with their true feelings. So, if there’s no love there, the pairing won’t last. But if it is, then what started with a spark eventually becomes a burning fire.”

  I swallowed hard. “Did she use her powers on Asher?” I asked.

  Abby hesitated before answering, but it was enough for me to know what she was going to say. “Yes. It was one of the reasons they initially fought. Asher didn’t like being manipulated like that. He made her swear she’d never use it on him again.”

  “So, he may not have loved her,” I said almost to myself.

  “I didn’t say that,” Abby cut in. “The truth is, Asher was interested in her before they ever met. My guess is that the spell just hurried things along.”

  “Abby, this is really important,” I said, feeling sick. “Do you think she’d use her powers on him again? On others here at camp? Is she that evil?”

  She looked at me, a frown spreading across her face. I could tell she didn’t want to answer, but I found myself silently imploring her to anyway. Finally, she said what I’d been fearing most since we began our conversation.

  “The Brooklyn I knew before would’ve done anything to get what she wanted. And at the time, that included dating Asher,” she said. “And now she’s had a year to think about the fact that she doesn’t have him anymore. The question is, did she learn from the mistakes she made in the past or did the last year just give her time to think about how she could get away with it next time?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wanted to tell all the others about Brooklyn right away. About her attack on me and about her special powers. But Abby made it pretty clear that this might not go over as well as I hoped it would.

  “I get that you were totally freaked out back there, but Had—nobody locked you in that shower,” she said gently after I brought up filling the Cleri in. “I barely had to pull on it for it to open. And if you accuse Brooklyn when she wasn’t even in the vicinity, you’re just going to look jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous,” I said between clenched teeth, trying to sound convincing.

  “I’m not saying you are. But that’s what it will look like,” Abby said. “And I told you about Brooklyn in confidence. We may not be all that close anymore, but I don’t usually go around telling other people’s business.”

  As much as I didn’t want it to be true, she was right. On both accounts. I would need proof to show the others if I wanted their support in taking her down.

  So I kept my mouth shut. For now.

  The rest of the week went by in a blur. We filled our days with magic and casting, and our nights with research. But my mind just wasn’t in it. Instead, I spent every waking moment obsessing over what I’d learned about Brooklyn. Discovering that she could cast “lust” spells on top of the fact that she was gorgeous, manipulative, and interested in getting Asher back did nothing to ease my mind. In fact, it sort of drove me even crazier.

  I found myself studying Brooklyn during magic sessions. I craned to overhear her conversations in case she was talking about breaking Asher and me up. There wasn’t a time I felt I could let down my guard, which meant that I was constantly on edge. It was wreaking havoc on both my personal life and my body, since stress was the leading cause of binge eating among teens. And girls. And especially teen girls.

  It was also about to get worse.

  “Omigod, I would die for that purse!”

  Excited chatter broke through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present. Colette and I were lounging around in the sun during an unexpected break in our day; I was working on my tan a
nd she was working on her witch history assignment. It had been relatively quiet for the past ten minutes, which had allowed me a few minutes of peace. But as things grew rowdy nearby, I found my eyes opening and zeroing in on a group of girls headed our way from the main cabin.

  Then I did a double-take as my brain tried to process what it was seeing.

  “Did I fall asleep?” I asked out loud. Because there, coming toward us, were Sascha, Jasmine, Jinx, Abby . . . and Brooklyn and Eve. “Seriously. Please tell me this is a nightmare and that it’s not really happening. Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut again, hoping that what I was seeing would disappear by the time I opened them. Unfortunately, all that happened was that the group was suddenly closer to us. And louder. I could fully hear everything they were saying now.

  “One of my mom’s friends works at Dooney & Bourke and calls me whenever a new bag comes in,” Brooklyn said, gesturing to the hot dog-shaped purse. “I could probably get you one if you wanted.”

  Sascha was practically salivating at this. I used to think her enthusiasm for pop culture and popularity was cute—when it was me she was following around. But now that she was applying to be Brooklyn’s personal shadow, it just seemed unattractive. The others didn’t seem nearly as impressed, but when Brooklyn handed them her bag to try on for themselves, their smiles didn’t lie. They were enjoying themselves. Even Jasmine, our resident goth-girl-who-hated-everything-and-everyone-that-wasn’t-her, didn’t seem all that put off by Supermodel Barbie.

  “Nothing says fabulous like D&B.” Eve nodded. “If we all had matching ones, it could be like the official bag for twitches.”

  “Well, the fabulous twitches, anyway.”

  Brooklyn’s eyes met mine briefly as she said this, but it was so subtle that I was the only one who seemed to see it. I had to hand it to the girl: she was good. Making friends with my friends so it would piss me off? Smart plan. Too bad it wasn’t going to work.

  It wasn’t going to work, was it?

 

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