What the Spell Part 1 (13 page)

Abby turned around and looked. “Shayla and Tucker? They’ve been friends since third grade,” she said, going back to locker diving. “My brother helped hook Tucker up with this guy who was selling his van earlier this year. Needed wheels to cart around his band’s equipment. Asher says he’s cool. He plays a great set at Water Under the Bridge.”

I wanted to ask her how she’d managed to get into a bar at the age of fourteen but was so drawn to the couple that I was having trouble keeping up my end of the conversation.

“Are they dating?” I asked curiously, studying their body language. They were clearly flirting, but neither of them gave off any obvious signs that they were a couple. I felt hypnotized by the flow of their movements and couldn’t snap myself out of it. “It seems like there’s something there.”

“Nah, they’re both single. But they’ve been into each other for years. From what I can tell, both of them are too scared to make the first move,” Abby said. “Too bad, too. They’d make a really great couple. They’re
exactly
alike.”

“They just need a little bit of a push,” I said absently.

As I continued to watch them dance around each other, I barely noticed that my body had begun to hum and my hands started to rise from my sides. Before I knew what was happening, my pointer fingers were trained on each of them. I was startled to see my fingers begin to move toward each other without my consciously doing so. The fact that I didn’t have control over a part of my body was frightening, but at the same time, something felt right in the motion, like there was a connection I could feel but not see. My fingers drew an imaginary line between Tucker and Shayla until my fingertips touched.
When they did, I felt a surge of power connect in the middle like a little shock to my system. Startled by this, I yelped and took a step back, hitting the lockers behind me.

“You okay?” Abby asked, giving me a funny look.

But I was too busy staring at Shayla and Tucker to respond. They’d gone from joking around to standing stock-still and staring at each other. The way they were looking at each other was different from before. The laughter was gone and their eyes were locked. I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Then someone walked by Tucker, bumping into him lightly with his bag. And just like that, the moment was broken. Tucker and Shayla seemed to snap out of whatever daze they were in and resumed the conversation they’d been having. I was too far away to hear what they were saying to each other, but I could see Shayla whisper something to him and then touch his arm softly. He smiled warmly and then took ahold of her hand and held it in his. Shayla looked down at their hands and then back up at him. And instantly you could read it all over their faces.

They were in love.

“No way,” I said, incredulous over what I’d just witnessed.

“What?” Abby asked, turning around and following my gaze to Shayla and Tucker. “Whoa. Well, it’s about time.”

Abby wasn’t as surprised as I was to see them holding hands, but I still couldn’t believe it. It was too much of a coincidence. “That was so weird.”

“Yeah, sort of crazy that we were just talking about them, huh? Maybe you’re good luck for couples,” she said jokingly. “Like a modern-day Cupid.”

Abby laughed to herself, but I couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.

“Mom, Dad, can I talk to you guys a sec?” I asked later that night.

They both looked up at me as I entered the living room. My mom was watching the BBC, her eyes glued to whatever drama was unfolding on the television in front of her. My dad had the paper open in his lap, his glasses hanging off the end of his nose. They each stopped what they were doing after hearing the tone of my voice.

“What’s wrong, dear?” my mom asked, her mind clearly still on her show.

“Um, I was just wondering if I could ask you guys a few questions?”

“Sure,” my dad said. “What’s up, Buttercup?”

I cringed as he used the nickname he’d given me as a little girl but kept myself from reminding him that I’d since grown up. “Well, I was thinking . . . it was really cool hearing all about our family history the other day, and I wondered if you could tell me a little bit more about our powers?”

My parents glanced at each other and shared a slightly panic-filled look. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, for starters, what coven are we from?” I asked, sitting down on the love seat and folding my legs underneath me. “You mentioned the Cleri the other day, and I’m assuming that we’re not related to them, so what
is
our lineage? Where are we in the world of witchcraft?”

My dad cleared his throat. “Well, you’re correct, we
aren’t
descendants of the Cleri. Our lineage is actually with Wilha, a coven that was based out of New Hampshire at the time of the trials. Wilha was always a passive group; our focus was never on big-time spells or making a name for ourselves in the witching world. We left that up to covens like the Cleri,” he said.
“And after seeing what happened to them during that time, you can easily see why we remained that way.”

“Our priorities weren’t the same as most other covens’,” Mom cut in. “Most of us only wanted to raise families, leave behind the danger that spell casting often brought. While other groups were using witchcraft for everything, our coven decided to go back to the basics and try to live low-magic lifestyles.

“Then, after the incident with Evelyn, your grandmother moved out here to try to put a little distance between the coven and her. She refused to use magic except for when it was absolutely necessary.

“The truth is, our line’s always laid low.”

“So we never did anything big? Anything important?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment that I didn’t come from a long line of warrior princesses or something like that. It was just one more way that I was destined to be ordinary from the start. Even the thing that set me apart from the majority of the rest of the world was slightly vanilla.

“Just because we didn’t do anything to land ourselves in the history books doesn’t mean that what we’ve done hasn’t been important,” Mom said, sounding a bit defensive.

I wasn’t sure I agreed with her, but I also wasn’t going to argue, either.

“Are there any specific powers our line seems to have that I should know about? You know, like things that we specialize in or anything.”

“Hmmm, not really . . .”

“Because this crazy thing happened at school and I’m just trying to figure it out,” I said.

“You weren’t caught doing magic, were you?” my dad asked, worried.

“It was nothing like that,” I answered quickly. “No, see, this thing happened when I was watching these two people at school. My hands started to move by themselves and they sort of drew a line between this guy and girl and . . . well, I swear there was a spark. And not like it sounds. Like, an actual spark of magic . . . between them. Like, because of me.”

“What happened after you did that, Brooklyn?” my mom asked.

“Well, they started holding hands,” I said, shrugging. “I know it sounds crazy, but it was sort of like I . . . linked them or something. Made them fall for each other. Is that even possible?”

The room was quiet as I waited for my parents to say something. I could hear the ticking of the clock in the corner of the room and counted each second as it went by. I was already up to twenty-four when my mom spoke again.

“It
is
possible, Brooklyn,” she finally said, fingers clenched together in her lap. “There’s a bit of matchmaking talent in our family.”

“What do you mean, matchmaking?” I asked. Then, borrowing a phrase from Abby, I added, “Are we like Cupid?”

“That’s certainly an interesting way to put it,” Dad said. “Though love’s a little bit more complicated than that.”

“Love? Is that what I did? Made Shayla and Tucker fall in
love
with each other?” I asked, stunned.

“No, not love, Brooklyn. Nobody has
that
kind of power. Well, that we know of,” Mom said. “But lust, interest, a crush, if you will—now that’s a different story.”

“Are you serious? How could you not tell me about this?”

“It honestly slipped our minds,” she said, absently fiddling with her hair. “My gosh, it’s been years since I’ve matched anyone.”

“Me too,” my dad said. “I never much liked getting involved in anyone else’s love life.”

I shook my head. What they were saying was crazy. Wasn’t it?

“So I can help people find their perfect matches?”

“Sort of. All we have is the power to create a link between two people that will give them the chance to see if there is love there to grow. The lust eventually wears off and at that point it’s up to the couple to decide if it’s a relationship worth pursuing.”

“Oh my gosh . . . is that why so many people start dating someone and then it fizzles? Do all witches have this power?” I asked, wondering if all flings were really just products of a witch’s imagination or boredom.

“To my knowledge, it’s a gift only our particular line has. And some people are more gifted at it than others. In fact, I’ve never seen a connection happen without a witch trying to match a couple before. Though it’s not entirely impossible. You can certainly tell when two people might be a good fit. You get a tingling from their connection, that tension in the air between them,” Mom said.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said, still trying to digest what they were telling me. “I have the power to match two people that I think would be a good couple but who maybe are just having a little trouble making the first move?”

“Correct,” my mom answered. “And apparently even when you don’t realize it. But this is not a gift to be taken lightly, Brooklyn. When you’re dealing with matters of the heart, things can get very complicated. And in the end, whether they fall in love isn’t up to you. That’s for the universe and the real Cupid to decide.”

“There’s a
real
Cupid?” I asked, my mouth dropping.

“Just be careful, sweetie,” Dad said, going back to reading
his paper and ignoring my question. “You’re dealing with people’s emotions here. In some cases, you may end up doing more damage than good.”

“Got it, Dad,” I said, still a little dazed. I got up to give them both hugs and then prepared to leave. I needed some alone time to think about this new bit of information.

As I was heading up the stairs, I heard my mom say, “Well, that went better than I’d expected.”

I had to agree. I’d definitely gotten exactly what I’d been looking for.

For the next week, I tested out my newfound matching skills, first pairing up two kids in my debate class who were always arguing and trying to one-up each other to win their cases. I figured that if there was a fire between them in class, imagine what they’d be like as a couple. And they’d been hot and heavy ever since.

Then I’d had a feeling about my World Civ teacher and the volleyball coach and decided they could use a little help connecting, too. Older people always seemed to drag their feet when it came to dating and I figured I’d just help speed up the process. Though they hadn’t been as outwardly affectionate as the other students I’d matched, I’d seen them meeting up in the cafeteria for coffee on several occasions.

Almost as soon as I’d learned of this new side of myself, the wheels in my head started to spin. I was slightly ashamed to admit it at first, but there was only one potential couple I wanted to test my magic out on—and it wasn’t for altruistic reasons. Asher and I had been growing closer and closer over the three weeks since we’d found out about each other’s magical abilities and there were times when I thought maybe there was a spark between us. I wanted so badly to match the two
of us but couldn’t help feeling guilty about it. What if Asher found out and got mad at me for doing it without his permission? Would he be upset or happy that I’d taken the initiative? And even worse, what if it didn’t work? What if once the spell wore off, there was nothing there and we had to go back to being just friends? I already knew that I was head over heels for him, and it would mean I’d be left pining for what we’d had. Only it wouldn’t have been real. And what would I do then?