What the Spell Part 1 Read Free

me to do the same. Sometimes she took the older sister thing a little too far and I couldn’t help but get annoyed. But in the end, I knew she did it because she cared. And the thing we argued about most often? My school situation. She thought she knew better because she’d lived the life I wanted.
    But I wanted the chance to be popular on my own terms.
    “It matters to me,” I said quietly. “You of all people should understand.”
    Ms. Zia remained silent as my statement hung in the air. Both of us—one a has-been and the other a wannabe—were haunted by our teenage selves. It was sort of tragically poetic when you thought about it.
    I stole a glance at her and once again marveled at how beautiful she was. She was older than me, of course, maybe in her mid- to late-twenties, but she still looked young enough to bea college student, with skin like porcelain and thick brows like you saw on runway models these days. Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe her, yet I wondered if she even knew it.
    Though Beauty and the Beast was exaggerating a bit, I knew that my looks paled in comparison to hers. My hair hung just past my shoulders and was a blah brown color that neither shone in the light nor did anything for my skin. My cheekbones were prominent, but not quite in the right way, and my face was bumpy to the touch thanks to a mild case of keratosis pilaris, a fun little skin condition that ensured I’d never have smooth, model-like skin. I was skinny, but tomboy skinny, and longed for some of the curves that my classmates had. Bottom line: it wasn’t like I was ugly, but I wasn’t really anyone’s idea of pretty, either.
    “Well, I hope you get everything you want,” Ms. Zia said, sounding like she meant it. Suddenly, she reached down underneath her desk. “And to help those wishes come true, and to make up for what should have been a much better day, I’ve got a little something for you.”
    After some shuffling, she popped back up, this time holding a single cupcake with a candle on top.
    “Ms. Z.—you didn’t have to do that!” I squealed, grateful that no one else was around to hear how excited I was over getting baked goods.
    “Happy birthday, Brooklyn,” she said with a big smile. I blew out the flame and watched as the smoke swirled up into the air, making designs as it lifted and then disappeared. Ms. Zia took out a plastic knife and cut the cupcake in half, letting me choose my piece first. I reached out and grabbed the chunk closest to me, shoving half of it in my mouth at once. It was chocolate with a peanut butter filling and buttercream frosting. I nearly fainted with delight as I licked the leftovers from my fingers.
    Ms. Zia delicately pulled a piece off her own section and popped it into her mouth. How did she manage to make everything look effortless? I made a note to try to be more like her when I was eating.
    “So, any plans for the big day?” she asked, changing the subject. “You having a party or just taking a spin now that you’re officially a licensed driver?”
    “Nah, we’re not really doing anything big,” I said, waving off the idea.
    My parents actually had offered to throw me a big party in honor of the occasion, but then I would’ve had to invite people. And when nobody showed, my parents would’ve found out that I didn’t have any friends, and that was a conversation I really didn’t want to have. So I’d said that I just wanted to spend the night with them. They didn’t question me about it, since they knew they couldn’t give me my birthday present when people were around anyway.
    “Do you think there’s a set of keys in your future?” Ms. Zia asked, suddenly sounding like a giddy teenager. “Man, when my parents gave me my first car, it was like love at first sight.”
    I laughed as she got a dreamy look in her eyes. “They might let me take the old Ford around the block once or twice,” I said.
    “I’m telling you, Brooklyn, you’re going to enjoy