“Almost midnight.” Mom says, buttoning the clasp on my witch cloak, and straightening my witch hat. “Are you ready?” I nod, staring at the ground. My cloak keeps me nice and warm, but I’m still shivering. The feeling of ghosts swarming around me is still burned into my brain. Mom checks her watch, then knocks on the door of the apartment in town. A squat, middle-aged woman with white hair opens the door. She is dressed in a cloak, just like Mom and I. 

“Come in.” She says, opening the door wider. Mom and I step into the dark front room, lit only by a candle. A voice comes from the edge of the room, and about a dozen witches step out of the shadows. I shiver as Mom takes my cloak and hat. I wear the long black gown she gave me, with a golden rope for a belt. 

“Lara Austin.” The leader of the witches says, her face hidden by the hood of her cloak. I nod. “Hold out your hands.” I lift my hands from my sides, and hold them out. The witch takes my hands, and turns them so the palms face up. A murmur goes through the crowd. 

“What are they gasping about?” I ask. The head witch gestures for the candle to be brought closer. As the flickering light draws closer, I notice a mark on my palm that wasn’t there this morning. 

“You’ve been marked as a target by the ghosts.” She says quietly, then turns to Mom. “Jillian, did you bring the amulet?” 

“I did.” 

“Quickly put it on her.” Mom nods, pulling the amulet out of her pocket. “Wear it always. It will keep you protected from ghosts.” 

“I was attacked by ghosts last night.” I say quietly. 

“Then it’s even more important that you protect yourself.” The witch says, as Mom clasps the necklace. The witch takes the spellbook from Mom, and puts it into my hands. “Do you swear to only use your power for good?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear to never break the guidelines outlined in this book?”

“Yes.”

“Do you promise to never cross the lines of what is possible?” 

“Yes.” The room starts to shake, and the candle blows out. My dress whips around me in the dark. “What’s happening?” I ask, over the wind.

“Light the candle.” The witch tells me. “Light the candle and you will have your power.” I nod, and search in the dark for the warm lump of wax. 

“Where’s the match?” I ask. A few witches snicker, and I flush in embarrassment. “Oh. I’m supposed to do it without the match.” I turn back to the candle, holding onto it with my left hand. 

“Try taking in the warmth of the room, and use it on the wick.” I nod. My right hand starts to heat up, like I’m holding a cup of cocoa. Or cider. Like the cider you were drinking with Jack last night. I push away the sad thought, and collect more warmth in my right hand. I slowly lift my now-boiling-hot hand up, and touch the wick. In an instant, a little flame appears, lighting up the room. The witches clap as I set the candle down. “Good job, Lara. It’s like breathing. Take in some power from around you, then let it out.” 

*****

“So, turns out witchcraft is kind of easy.” I tell Jack, sitting by his bedside. “I just wish there was a spell in that big old book that would bring you back.” Jack doesn’t answer, his breathing shallow. I reach for his hand, and rub it, trying to bring a reaction. He doesn’t do anything. His heart rate remains constant. His breathing stays the same. “Why can’t you just wake up?” I shout, standing up. “I’ve tried everything!” 

“Miss, you need to stay calm, our you’ll have to leave the hospital.” The doctor says, coming into the room. “You’re disturbing the patients.” I nod and leave the room in tears. I bump into someone on my way out, and apologize quickly. 

“What are you doing here?” Cal asks, rubbing his arm. 

“What are you doing here?” I question, sighing. 

“Visiting my grandma.” He says. 

“Visiting my friend.” I say, hands on my hips. Cal looks past me to the window into Jack’s hospital room, and sighs. 

“Well, I’m sorry about that.” He says quietly, then walks away. I roll my eyes, and walk down the stairs to the hospital lobby, pulling on my ratty old secondhand coat. 

“We have our birthday party tonight, you know.” Tessa tells me, as I doodle in my notebook. I groan and put my head down on my math homework. 

“I don’t want to go.” 

“It’s your own birthday, and you don’t want to go?”

“I don’t feel up to it.”

“Why can’t you be cheerful for once?” Tessa asks, hands on her hips. I sigh and stand up. “Um, you’re not going to the birthday party dressed like it’s a funeral.” She says, pointing to my clothes. “Come on. Let’s see if one of Everly’s dresses works.” She grabs my hand, and leads me over to our closet, pulling out the big paper bag, and laying dresses out. “Oh, these are all so old-fashioned.” 

“Old-fashioned is fine.” I say, and reach for the plainest of the dresses in the pile. Tessa slaps my hand. 

“You’re not going to that party dressed like a grandma!” She says. “We’ll have to borrow a dress from Kathy or Maryann.” She grabs my hand, and pulls me down the stairs to the front door. 

“I could just wear my blue one. It’s a bit dirty, but no one will notice!” I yell, as she drags me up to a white house on a hill. 

“No!” Tessa yells, then knocks on the door. “Hi, Kathy. Would you mind letting Lara borrow a dress? Something in style?” Kathy nods quietly, and lets us in, walking us up the dark wood stairs to a bedroom. Kathy opens her closet, and lays several dresses down on the bed. Tessa spots one, and gasps. “Kathy, I love this one! It’s perfect!” She picks up the dress, and holds it to her chest so I can’t see. “Thank you so much. We’ll give it back after the party.” Kathy nods, and waves goodbye.

“What on earth is this?” I ask, turning around in front of the mirror. It’s a strapless dress, very tight around the bodice, and with a knee-length skirt and crinoline under it. It’s black, with lots of glitter that is already all over my arms. 

“It’s what is cool!” Tessa says. I turn to glare at her. 

“Give me the grandma dress. I’m not wearing this.” Tessa shoves the paper bag in the closet, and blocks me from grabbing it. “I look like…”

“You look beautiful.” She tells me, grabbing my hands. “And guess who’s coming tonight to see how cute you look!” I sigh.

“Some boy?”

“Not just some boy. You know that boy whose house we went to for that party? The party where you left early?” Oh, please no. “Cal Wilson. He’s super cute.” Yeah, sure. Cute. “And I’ve heard some rumors at school, and they say he has eyes for you. His girlfriend isn’t too happy about it, I hear.” I put my face in my hands, sighing. “Lara! Don’t touch your face! You’ll ruin your makeup.” 

“I don’t want a boyfriend.” I complain. Tessa sighs, and sits me down in front of the mirror, pulling out her hairbrush. She combs my hair out, and puts black shiny clips in it, matching the dress with their sparkle. 

“Girls, the party guests are here!”