Each woman sat with her daughter or daughters—save for Mrs. Pruitt, because Kathleen had skipped coven. That was unlike Kathleen, who normally liked to use those occasions as opportunities for embarrassing Cecily. Then again, Kathleen liked to use every occasion to embarrass somebody or other. Cecily was grateful for the brief break.
When the rune pattern was complete, Mom put something in front of the small pile of ashes—a single brown shoe, one that belonged to Cecily’s father. Everyone else put something in as well: a husband’s T-shirt, a father’s sunglasses. Cecily set Theo’s Game Boy atop the rest. Another couple flicks of the switch drew lines of ash around the pile of items, containing them within the spell.
“Time to anoint,” her mother said to the circle as a whole. The other moms all nodded, and their daughters—who ranged in age from Cecily’s down to a four-year-old in pigtails—scooted closer to get a better look. Then her mother added, “Try it, Cecily.”
Cecily had been performing this step in the spell for a couple of months now, and sometimes for harder spells than this. But she’d never done it in front of anyone but her mother before—not even for the coven at home. She saw the mothers trade glances among themselves, surprised and not necessarily approving. Most witches were a couple years older than Cecily before they were capable of handling that kind of power.
No pressure, she thought.
She picked up the vial they’d cooked up in the autoclave late last night. The deep purple liquid within was viscous—maybe more than was ideal—but at least it would be easier to pour. Cecily pulled out the stopper and refused to wrinkle her nose at the smell. She tipped the vial forward and deftly poured a thin stream into the shape of the rune, following her mother’s outline precisely. The grooves in the ash caught the fluid, and the rune of liquid began, ever so slightly, to glow.
“Very good,” her mother said. Cecily felt the tension in the room ease. Her mother took the candle—a part Cecily wasn’t very good at yet because she always lost her concentration when the heated wax singed her fingers. Mom didn’t flinch once as she dipped the flame toward the fluid—which caught fire.
For a moment the flames leaped high—still brilliant purple, still in the shape of the rune. Then the ash caught fire too, and a smoky cloud appeared above them. There, flickering in three dimensions, were the people they’d sought with the spyglass spell: all the fathers and brothers, out watching a baseball game at a nearby sports bar. Cecily caught a glimpse of Theo stealing an onion ring from Dad’s plate, and she nearly giggled.
The next thing she saw, however, wiped the smile from her face.
There was Scott—somehow even more insanely gorgeous than he’d been the day before. His arm rested around Kathleen’s shoulders, and he stared at her adoringly as she filed her fingernails. Neither of them was paying any attention to the game.
Scott doesn’t even like sports, Cecily thought. The guy she’d gone with briefly in the spring had wanted to spend most weekend afternoons watching televised golf, which was pretty much in a nutshell why she wasn’t going out with him anymore. Not liking sports was virtually the only way in which Scott could’ve become more perfect, so naturally he’d gone and done it.
Finding a boyfriend who was perfect to the point of not liking sports was virtually the only way that Kathleen Pruitt could’ve become even more unbearable. As much as Cecily had always loathed Kathleen, she’d never envied her before.
No doubt Kathleen knew that Cecily was jealous, and was enjoying every second of it.
Maybe she doesn’t even like Scott that much, Cecily thought hopefully. Maybe she’s only with him to spite me.
But there wasn’t much chance of that. Although probably Kathleen would do anything to spite Cecily, any girl would like Scott.
Just when the sight of them together seemed to sear Cecily’s eyes, the image flickered out. The flames smothered, and where the ashes had been were only a few sprinkles of dust on the basement floor. A clean working area was the sign of a spell well cast.
“Very nice,” said one of the mothers, and Cecily knew the praise was for her.
The coven meeting more or less broke up at that point. This was more of an instructional session than anything else; the spyglass spell had been for demonstration purposes only, since all the women knew about the sports-bar excursion. Some of the mothers went over the finer points of the spell with the daughters as everybody got up and gathered together the items they’d taken to focus their magic, to put the things back where they belonged.
“You did fine work today,” her mother said, pulling gently at Cecily’s ponytail.
“I try to pay attention.” Cecily attempted to look innocent. “Instead of skipping coven. Like some people.”
“Can it.” Mom glanced to make sure Mrs. Pruitt hadn’t heard; they were good friends, which was one reason Cecily wasn’t allowed to show openly how much she loathed Kathleen.
As Cecily tucked Theo’s Game Boy back into his luggage, she wondered, Would she skip coven if it meant she could spend time with Scott? Without Kathleen? Cecily decided she wouldn’t do it often—but she’d certainly do it once.
But no. Scott wasn’t perfect. Nobody was perfect. Sure he was gorgeous—and sweet and built—but he had chosen to date Kathleen. So there was one huge flaw right there. No doubt his other faults would make themselves known in time.
The guys, plus Kathleen, all returned about an hour later, after the baseball game had ended. If anything, it was raining even harder than before, which meant that Ocean’s Heaven once again seemed crowded and loud. Cecily sneaked up to her room to text her friends back home for a while, but Theo wouldn’t leave her alone.
“You said you would play foosball with me!”
“I did play foosball with you,” Cecily said, pressing the keypad with her thumb so her friends would read THEO BEING BRAT. “We played three games yesterday. Remember?”
“But I want to play today.”
“Theo—”
“You don’t like playing anymore because you can’t always win now that I’m bigger.” Theo folded his arms across his chest. Apparently this was her only reward for pretending to lose: an even sulkier baby brother.
“Okay, okay. Let’s play.” Cecily’s first thought, as they headed downstairs, was to show Theo that she could in fact still beat him at foosball, absolutely cream him, so he wouldn’t bug her about playing any longer. Then she reminded herself that being nice to Theo was just about the only vacation self-improvement goal she’d been able to keep.
In the game room a group of people were watching a DVD on the wide-screen TV, some action movie that seemed to be mostly about things blowing up. Her father sat in the center munching on pretzels. With a cheery smile Ms. Giordano called to them, “You kids having fun?”
“I can beat Cecily at foosball now!” Theo proclaimed. Cecily gritted her teeth.
Then she heard, “Well, then, maybe I should help Cecily out.” She turned to see Scott put his hands on the side of the foosball table. “What do you say, Theo? Can I play on Cecily’s side? Give her a chance?”
“Well—” Theo clearly didn’t like the idea of relinquishing the upper hand.
“I’m not very good at foosball,” Scott confessed. “So it’s not like I’d be that much help.”
Theo smiled. “Okay, then.”
Cecily went to the foosball table, so she and Scott stood side to side. This was the closest they’d been since he’d helped carry their luggage. She glanced around for Kathleen, who was nowhere to be seen, and Cecily wasn’t about to ask where she was. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself in for,” she said. “Theo’s pretty fierce.”
Theo spun some of the foosball men around, obviously hoping to prove her point.
“I’m strong.” Scott kept his face completely straight. “I can take it.” The glint in his eyes told Cecily that he’d lose the game on purpose, just like she would have on her own—which would make Theo’s ego almost unbearable, but would also make him really happy.
Gorgeous, sweet, built, and nice to little kids. Okay, I have to figure out what’s wrong with this guy before it drives me insane.
“How did you meet Kathleen?” Cecily said as Theo dropped the ball into the table.
“At school,” Scott said, giving the ball a whack. “I’d seen her around all year, but we never got to know each other. Then after spring break, the first time I laid eyes on her—it was like I was seeing her for the first time. You know?”
“Mmm.” Cecily concentrated on the game for a second, because that seemed like the best way not to actually gag out loud.
Scott continued, “It’s sort of funny, though. We have this great relationship, even though we don’t enjoy the same things. I used to think that was impossible.”
“What kind of stuff do you like to do?” Cecily felt she could guess Kathleen’s interests: reading gossip magazines, bleaching her roots, tormenting the innocent.
“You would never guess my number-one hobby.”
“I’m not even going to try. Just tell me.”
“I like to cook.” Surprised, Cecily glanced at Scott instead of the foosball table, which gave Theo a chance to score. As Theo cheered himself, Scott laughed. “You don’t think guys should cook? You don’t look old-fashioned.”
“I’m not,” she said. “It’s just—you know—I love to cook.”
Scott nodded. “You get it, then. I was thinking about maybe trying to become a chef someday.”
At home on Cecily’s desk, where most of her friends would’ve kept college catalogs of prospective universities, she had brochures from every top cooking school in the nation and a couple in Paris. “Oh,” she said weakly. “Me too. That’s—”
“A huge coincidence, huh?” Scott gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I’m crazy about Kathleen, but I don’t think she can even make toast.”