What the Spell Part 1 Read Free Page A

your freedom,” she said. “It’s going to change your life.”
    I nodded, because it was true. My life was about to change—but not for the reasons Ms. Z. was thinking.
    The truth was, I came from a family of witches, and up until now, I hadn’t been allowed to use my powers. But my parents had promised to unbind my gifts the day I turned sixteen. I knew through witching chat rooms that most magically inclined kids learned how to cast around the same time theylearned how to walk. My parents, however, were beyond strict about magic. Their reasoning behind binding my powers was that they thought I should be mature enough to handle the responsibility it took to do magic safely. I think that, to them, magic equals freedom and my parents just weren’t ready to let go. They probably still weren’t ready, but they’d promised me that tonight was the night I would come into my heritage. After so many years of wishing I could use magic, I was itching to take my powers out for a test run.
    And I already knew what my first spell was going to be.
    “I think you’re right, Ms. Z.,” I said. “I have a feeling things are about to change around here.”

 
    “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy biiiirthday, dear Brook-lyn.” My parents paused for dramatic effect. “Happy birthday to you!”
    They’d insisted on singing, even though I’d pointed out that I was sixteen now and entirely too old for such childish traditions. When they were finished, they both laughed at their inability to sing on key and looked at me expectantly as they waited for what came next. For the second time that day, I blew out my birthday candles, wishing for the same thing I always did: a different life.
    “Brilliant, just brilliant,” my mom said, clapping, when I’d blown them out. Mom watched a lot of British television and I think she wished she lived there. She thought the accent was so proper, and every once in a while she’d speak like the characters in her favorite shows. It used to bug me and Dad, but after a while we just sort of got used to it.
    “I bet I know what you wished for,” my dad said, wagginghis finger at me like I was a child misbehaving. He did that all the time. It was like he was in denial about the fact that I was no longer a toddler. It probably stemmed from the fact that he’d always wanted another kid, but Mom had said she was done after it took her thirty-six hours of nonstop pain to have me. She’d said if Dad wanted another child, he’d have to push it out himself.
    “Let’s have some cake,” Mom said, already slicing into the vanilla cake with vanilla frosting. No matter how many times I requested something different, like raspberry filling or double fudge, it was always vanilla. My parents said they didn’t like riffraff in their cake.
    And that pretty much summed up my family. Vanilla, hold the riffraff.
    I waited as patiently as I could as my mom served us, my leg bouncing up and down anxiously below the table. After she handed me my piece, I practically inhaled it.
    “Can we do it now?” I asked as I swallowed the last bit of cake.
    “Patience, Brooklyn,” my dad said as he chewed slowly. “Your mother and I haven’t even finished our slices yet.”
    I held in an aggravated sigh and tried to remind myself that I’d waited sixteen years for what was about to happen, so a few more minutes wouldn’t kill me. But it turned out to be the most excruciatingly long ten minutes of my life. And just when I thought I might explode, my parents pushed their plates away and sat back, finally full and happy.
    “Here, let me get those,” I said, jumping up and clearing the table.
    “Well, we should unbind your powers more often.” Mom chuckled, watching me go. “Maybe then I’d finally get you to do your chores.”
    “Sure. Yeah,” I said, ignoring her tone. “Can we do it now ?”
    My parents looked at one another.
    “Please?” I wanted to add, “You promised.” But I didn’t