Cecily’s absolute, ultimate dream for her future was one she’d never seriously expected to come to pass, because dreams were dreams and reality was reality and she felt people were better off understanding the difference. But it was still fun to dream, so she’d imagined falling in love with a gorgeous, sweet, built guy who loved cooking absolutely as much as she did. Then they would open their own restaurant together, and it would be a huge success, and Cecily and the future Mr. Cecily would be incredibly happy cooking side by side.
And Scott was the very first guy she’d ever met who’d made her realize that dream might not actually be impossible.
“It’s great that you know what you want,” Scott said. “Too many people don’t.”
“Exactly! They keep saying that at our age, you don’t have to make up your mind. But shouldn’t you want to make up your mind?”
“So you have some direction. It’s all so much clearer that way.”
“Absolutely.”
“Hey,” Theo said loudly. “You’re not even paying attention!”
Cecily blushed. Scott laughed and rumpled Theo’s hair. “Sorry, buddy. We were just trying to get you off your guard, so maybe we’d stand a chance.” Then he glanced back at Cecily, and something about the affection in his blue eyes made her bones seem to liquefy. She leaned against the table, telling herself that kissing another girl’s boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room wasn’t a good idea. Even though her body seemed to be swaying toward him, beyond her control—
“What’s going on in here?” Kathleen wandered in, holding her hands out in front of her, fingers splayed. Her nails gleamed wetly of red polish.
Theo said, “Scott’s helping Cecily, but I can still beat them both!”
Kathleen sighed. “I guess there’s no helping Cecily, is there?”
“You were doing your nails?” Cecily said. “Again?”
“Yes.” Apparently Kathleen didn’t even register that as an insult. “This color is much better, I think. I want to do my toes too. Scott, lend me a hand, okay?”
“Okay.” Scott winked at Theo. “You and I are going to have a rematch later. Cecily—good talking to you.”
“You too.”
Already Scott had turned away—willing to drop everything to give Kathleen a pedicure. He had to be absolutely crazy about her to do something like that.
How can he be so into her? Cecily thought in despair. How can any guy so right for me be in love with the peroxide piranha? This just can’t be for real.
Wait—THIS CAN’T BE FOR REAL.
Cecily’s eyes went wide. Adrenaline made her heart thump crazily, and nothing around her seemed entirely genuine. Although she remained at the foosball table occasionally spinning her men, she couldn’t pay any attention to what was going on; for once Theo beat her fair and square.
As soon as the game ended, Cecily hurried upstairs to her room. She needed a couple of seconds of privacy to think. Because if what she suspected was true—
It isn’t. It couldn’t be. Kathleen Pruitt’s awful, but not even she could be that awful. Could she?
Being a bitch was one thing. Actually misusing the Craft to force someone to fall in love with her—that was something else altogether. That was serious. That was bad. Maybe it wasn’t as awful as murder, but Cecily had been brought up to believe that subverting someone’s will was more or less in the same general category.
That would explain why Kathleen had skipped the afternoon coven meeting too—the enchantment on Scott would’ve been a powerful one, so much so that traces of it might have lingered and affected the coven’s work. Kathleen’s cover would have been blown, and all the other witches would’ve known what a horrible thing she’d done.
The thought of Kathleen publicly shamed gave Cecily a little thrill of satisfaction, and almost instantly she felt ashamed.
If you really thought she’d done it, you wouldn’t be happy, Cecily told herself. You’d be horrified, and worried about Scott. But you don’t really think Kathleen’s that wicked. You just enjoy thinking that she could be, because it’s easier than thinking that Scott might actually be in love with her for real. Which he obviously is. So get over it.
But the idea wouldn’t quite go away.
Finally, Cecily decided that she’d prove to herself how ridiculous her theory was. Quickly she pulled her Craft supplies from beneath the bed and grabbed a small plastic spray bottle from her luggage. On hot days at the beach she filled the bottle with water so she could cool down while remaining in the sun; obviously, she wouldn’t be needing it for that anytime soon.
A simple solution would be best. Something she didn’t have to cook up. Thinking fast, Cecily realized that a couple of the elixirs from this morning might do the trick if she poured them together in the right proportions. It was difficult without a measuring cup, but she managed to get it close.
First she tested the solution, tiptoeing into Theo’s room. Cecily determinedly didn’t look at Scott’s things on the bottom bunk; instead, she took the Game Boy she’d used for the spyglass spell. After glancing down the hall to make sure that nobody was watching, she squirted the bottle over the Game Boy.
The mist of liquid turned briefly brilliant pink—proving the Game Boy had been the subject of a spell or enchantment in the recent past.
Cecily nodded, satisfied. If nothing else, at least she’d learned how to work up a spell-detection elixir on short notice.
Are you actually going to spray this on Scott? she asked herself. What are you going to do when nothing happens? Remember, he’ll also think you’re a complete weirdo who goes around stalking guys with squirt bottles of pink crap.
“Hey, everybody!” Mr. Silverberg called. “Who wants to go out for pizza?”
“Thank god!” shouted another of the dads, and everyone laughed. Cecily wasn’t the only one who had cabin fever, apparently.
And if they were all headed outside that gave Cecily her chance. Nobody would notice a few drops of water in the middle of a driving rainstorm.
She tucked the spray bottle in the pocket of her jean jacket as everybody got ready to go. Theo, always restless, ran out into the rain before anybody else, and Mom had to chase after him with an umbrella. Kathleen hurried out next, her own umbrella in hand, whining about what the humidity was doing to her hair. Scott was about to follow her, but Cecily grabbed his arm at the door. “Oh, Scott—” she said casually. “Did you happen to see Theo’s Game Boy? We should really take it along tonight so he won’t get bored.”
“Yeah, I think I saw that in our room.” Scott smiled at her. “You’re a good sister, you know?”
As Scott jogged inside to search their room, Cecily took her own sweet time slipping into her sandals. After she had fastened the last buckle, the only people left in the house were she and Scott.
“Come on, you two!” Dad shouted through the cracked-open window of their rental car.
Scott emerged, Game Boy in hand. They both dashed out into the rain, and Cecily made sure to be a few steps behind him so that nobody would be able to see what she was about to do. Quickly she took the spray bottle, reminded herself that this was slightly nuts, and squeezed the trigger.
The mist turned pink, sparkling for one moment before it vanished.
Cecily froze. For a moment she simply stood there, rain pouring down on her; in her shock, she couldn’t feel anything.
Kathleen had done it. She actually had done it. She had broken one of the Craft’s strongest laws.
Scott doesn’t really love her.
“Cecily!” Dad yelled. “What are you doing?”
Haltingly Cecily managed to make her way to the car and get inside. By the time she shut the door behind her, she was sopping wet. “Ugh. Honestly,” Kathleen huffed. She sat in the center of the backseat curled next to Scott, who was smiling at her sort of vacantly. “Stop dripping on me, Cecily.”
Cecily said nothing. She couldn’t even look at Kathleen for fear of revealing that she knew the truth.
It was funny, sort of: she’d always thought Kathleen Pruitt was a horrible person. And now it turned out she hadn’t known the half of it. Kathleen wasn’t just vain, shallow, and cruel—she was really and truly evil.
Cecily stole a sideways glance. Kathleen sat with her head against Scott’s shoulder, and she smiled smugly when she saw Cecily watching.
Somehow Cecily managed to smile back, but she was thinking, Smile while you can. Because you won’t get away with it.
Part Three
SELF-IMPROVEMENT GOALS: NOW TOTALLY REVISED DUE TO STATE OF EMERGENCY
At this time of crisis I will:
talk to Mom about how best to handle freeing Scott from the enchantment, because breaking a magical tie strong enough to make a great guy like him fall for Kathleen is probably out of my league
resist the urge to say “I told you so” to Mom when the evil of Kathleen Pruitt is finally demonstrated to be objective, verifiable fact
enjoy my moment of triumph over The Loathsome One, but not so much that I don’t pay attention to the enchantment-breaking, because that is going to be high-level magic of the first degree
“Cecily, honestly.” Mom folded her arms. “We’re out having a good time, and you’re making another of your lists on a napkin?”
“We need to talk,” Cecily said, quickly tucking the napkin in her skirt pocket.
“No, we need to enjoy ourselves.” Mom put her hands on Cecily’s shoulders, pushing her to turn and look at the small stage in the corner of Mario’s Karaoke Pizzeria. Several of the fathers from the group, with Theo standing in front of Dad, were all bellowing, “We Are the Champions.”
This would normally have been enough to make Cecily cringe with embarrassment, but larger concerns were at stake. “Mom, it’s about Kathleen. She—I—well, we have to do something, because—”
“Do what, Cecily? Break it up every time you two start to squabble?”