Perfect hair, cute clothes, healthy tans—life’s a breeze when you’re a witch! Even special witchcraft classes Rachel agrees to attend with Miri turn out to be fun. The sisters meet other teen witches just like them—who knew? Everyone’s preparing for a magical party called a Samsorta—a debutante ball for witches. And it wouldn’t be a ball without warlocks. Cute ones. Like Adam, who wants to slow dance with Rachel, and ski with her in the Rockies—on a school night! Of course, Rachel is madly in love with her boyfriend, Raf. So why can’t she bring herself to tell Adam—funny, charming Adam—that Raf exists?
Rachel knows Raf likes her. Maybe even, gulp, loves her. But Raf doesn’t know her secret. Unlike Adam, Raf doesn’t know who she really is. And she can never tell him. Or can she?
I pirouette before the mirror. Yes, the red shirt could work. Red makes my hair look super-glossy and glamorous and goes great with my favorite jeans.
If I do say so myself.
The shirt has a scooped neckline and adorable bubble sleeves. It's my back-to-school top for the big, BIG day tomorrow--the very first day of sophomore year! My BFF, Tammy, and I went shopping last week for the occasion. I know I could have just zapped something up, but the first rule of witchcraft is that everything comes from something. I didn't want to accidentally shoplift a new shirt from Bloomingdale's.
I like the red. It works with my complexion. But I don't know if it truly shows off my fabulous tan. Hmm. I touch the material grazing my collarbone and chant:
"Like new becomes old,
Like day becomes night,
Pretty back-to-school top,
Please become white!"
I've found that adding "please" to my spells really helps. The Powers That Be seem to appreciate it when I'm polite.
A chill spreads through the room, sending goose bumps down my back, and then--zap!--the spell takes effect. The red of my top quickly drains from the material, which turns fuchsia, dark pink, pale pink, and finally as white as Liquid Paper.
Now we're talking! Yes. It should be white. White shows off my awesome summer tan.
My awesome fake summer tan. Obviously. It's not like I have a pool in downtown Manhattan to lounge by, and anyway it's been way too muggy and humid in this city to stay outside for more than twenty seconds, so how could I get naturally sun-kissed? Unfortunately, my camp tan is long gone. But is my fake tan a spray-on? Nope. Is it from one of those tanning booths that could pass for a medieval torture chamber? Again, nope.
How did I get it, then? Why, I call it the Perfect Golden Tan That Makes Me Look Like I Live in California spell. (Patent pending.)
I made it up last week and it worked immediately. True, at first I looked like I had a rash, or perhaps a severe case of the measles, but by the following afternoon, the color had settled into a golden glow. A golden glow that makes me look like a native San Franciscan. Or is it Francistite? Francissian?
Anyway, I am very in control of my powers these days. Ever since Miri taught me megel exercises (you control the flow of your raw will by lifting and lowering inanimate objects such as books and pillows. Not glasses. Don't try glasses. Trust me on this), my magic muscles have gotten much stronger.
I finally got my very own copy of A2 (otherwise known as The Authorized and Absolute Reference Handbook to Astonishing Spells, Astounding Potions, and History of Witchcraft Since the Beginning of Time), but since I'm so good at making up my own spells, it's not like I need it. If you know how to cook, do you need a recipe? I think not.
Yes, my top has to be white. Everyone knows white is the best color to wear when tanned. Tomorrow, when I glide into JFK High School, they will say, "Who is that perfectly bronzed girl? Could that be Rachel Weinstein?" And "Did you hear? She's going out with the wonderful and gorgeous A-lister Raf Kosravi! Isn't she amazing?"
Yes, it's going to be a great year. The best year ever. I'm calling it The Sophomore Spectacular! My very own Broadway show. And tomorrow is opening day.
Nothing can go wrong, because:
I am healthily tan, I have a boyfriend, and I have a groovalicious new haircut with lots of fabo layers. And I am a witch.
Yup, I'm a witch. Obviously. How else would I be able to change the color of my shirt over and...
