Witch (10 page)

I stared and stared, but nothing happened. I had to up the stakes. Then I remembered the amethyst in my backpack that Brenda had given me. I felt a bit guilty as I removed the lustrous purple stone from its black velvet pouch. Brenda had made a point of telling me not to use it for frivolous means. In fact, I was only supposed to use it alone at home for a week, until I saw Brenda again for my next lesson.

I held the stone in my left hand and concentrated on the back of Matt's head again.

Matt, turn around and look at me
, I commanded silently.

The amethyst in my hand started to feel really hot, but still Matt didn't move.

Maybe the magic (if that's what it really was) that had changed the feather had come from Bryce and not me. I was kind of disappointed, but then again perhaps it was better if I didn't mess with this stuff too much on my own anyway. A vision of Bryce filled my head instead, his eyes so clear and green it was like I was looking at him in real life.

Then I snapped out of it and realised I wasn't looking into Bryce's eyes – I was looking into Matt's.

Matt's eyes were a deep blue, and I felt myself being sucked into them. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, until he made a sound like he was clearing his throat . . . and spat in my face!

I slowly reached up to my cheek, wiping the spit away, my eyes still locked with his. I started to feel the black, boiling fury deep in the pit of my stomach and I knew I had to control it before something really bad happened, because right now I wanted to hurt Matt Rock.

The bus came to a stop and I grabbed my bag and made for the door.

‘Freak,' Matt called after me.

I watched the bus pull away. I knew who the freak was, and it wasn't me. What a loser. Clearly looks only went so far. I wiped my hand on the grass to get rid of the spit. Matt Rock was a creep who deserved to be punished.

I started to plot my revenge.

As soon as I got home I called Dean.

‘Dean, what are you doing?'

‘Just messing with the computer,' he said, sounding preoccupied. I could hear the sounds of
World of Warcraft
in the background. That was another thing I'd learned about Dean: he was a total video-game nerd.

‘Good. After you kill your next demon, do me a favour and google infatuation spells. I need something that will make a person worship the ground I walk on.' I giggled a little but was deadly serious.

‘Are you sure? Brenda told us not to get spells from the internet until you know how to cast them properly.'

‘She's changed her mind,' I said. I felt bad lying to Dean, but I really wanted to get back at Matt and this was definitely the best way to do it.

‘Why do you need an infatuation spell anyway?' Dean asked.

‘Because Matt Rock spat on me,' I answered.

‘No way! Why?' Dean said, his voice full of horror.

‘He's just an arse and I'm going to get him back,' I said angrily.

‘Got it. But why do you want to do a love spell on him then?'

‘Because he should know how it feels to be embarrassed in front of everyone. Trust me. I know what I'm doing,' I said decisively.

There was a pause.

‘Um . . . okay . . . I'll see what I can do,' he said at last.

The next day at school Dean slipped me a piece of paper.

‘If this backfires don't blame me,' he said.

I read what he'd printed out.

A SPELL TO POSSESS ANOTHER'S HEART

Procure thus:

A lock of hair from the head of your love –
their thoughts be only of you
A handful of soil from the print of their foot –
they shall follow only you
Place these treasures in a bag with blood
drawn from your palm
And you shall hold their heart in your hand
Forever

‘Yikes. I have to draw blood?' I'd had enough of people's body fluids.

‘I spent two hours researching this, Vania, and from what I can tell that spell is the most powerful.'

‘Sorry, Dean. I really appreciate you going to all this trouble for me. I'm sure this spell is perfect, and I totally trust you.' I fixed an innocent smile on my face. ‘Which is why I'm asking you to get the soil from his footprint. I'll get the hair.'

‘Vania, he's a senior. I can't follow him around – he'll beat me up!'

‘I don't think he'd go that far. And he spat on me, remember? Please help me?'

‘All right, all right,' Dean said.

A rush of goosebumps came over me.

‘Awesome! You rock, Dean. Let's not tell the others. Brenda told me it's fine to do stuff like this but that talking about spells is like planting a seed and then digging it up to see how it's growing. We have to keep this on the down-low for now,' I said. I felt a brief pang of guilt for lying to a friend but ruthlessly squashed it. This would teach Matt to be a nicer person, so it was for the greater good, wasn't it?

The following afternoon I was waiting for Dean at the cliffs above the beach after school. There was going to be a full moon later, and
The Sixth Sense and Us
said this was when spell casting worked best.

Dean hurried towards me, a plastic bag clutched to his chest.

‘What's up, Dean?' I called out. I could see him sweating profusely from twenty feet away.

‘I just had to run for my life,' he spluttered. ‘I hope sand's okay – I couldn't get dirt. I followed him to the beach; they're surfing. I had to run through a group of his friends to make sure I got the right footprint. They called me gay and chased me back to the car park. One of them tripped me over, but I got away.' He held out a grazed elbow.

I suddenly felt terrible. What was I doing? I didn't even really know how to do this spell, and I'd put my friend at risk of being made into mincemeat by a bunch of morons. But this ball was rolling now, and there was no way to push it back up the hill.

‘Ouch, sorry,' I said. ‘At least you got away, though. And if it makes you feel better, I had a horror experience getting Matt's hair, too.'

‘What did you do?' Dean sat down next to me on the rocks, wiping his forehead with an arm of the jumper he'd tied around his waist.

‘I grabbed his hair gel from his gym bag. He was on the field playing football and I snuck into the locker room. His coach caught me and nearly ripped my arm out of its socket. He said I was trying to steal stuff. I told him I was looking for my brother and he eventually let me go.'

‘You don't have a brother.'

‘I know! I only got three hairs out of the gel, but it's better than nothing.' I dug my hand into my pocket and took out the tissue in which I'd wrapped the precious hairs.

‘What do we do now?' Dean looked over his shoulder nervously, no doubt expecting a pack of surfing hyenas to come running up the path at any second.

‘Well, I checked the moon chart and it's supposed to rise at exactly 5.55 p.m. So I guess when it does I'll cut my hand and put everything we've collected in the bag.'

I pulled out a steak knife and a drawstring silk pouch that had once contained a bottle of Britney Spears Curious perfume – a birthday gift from my mother that I'd quickly disposed of. I hadn't had the heart to tell her it wasn't my style; that I'd have preferred a perfume called Smart, but no one made one. I had a feeling that what I was doing now wasn't that smart anyway.

‘Are you going to disinfect the knife?' Dean asked. He looked queasy.

That hadn't occurred to me. ‘Let's get a fire going,' I said, walking towards a pile of dried-out branches under the scrubby bushes hugging the crest of the cliff. I knew I could disinfect the metal in that.

Half an hour later Dean and I had a cosy circle of flames crackling away. It was mellow and peaceful and we sat in silence, gazing at the grey waves that curled and foamed, breaking gently on the sand below. Eventually the sun set in glorious swirls of pink and orange before sizzling away to a glowing red band stretched taut across the horizon.

When the moon began to rise from behind a craggy ridge in the far distance, I carefully poured the sand Dean had collected from the plastic bag onto a flat stone. I unfolded the tissue revealing the hairs.

‘Gross,' said Dean.

‘Uh huh.' I nodded and grabbed the knife. ‘Here goes.'

‘How are you going to draw blood?' Dean asked.

‘Quickly,' I said, and he looked even more uncomfortable.‘Don't worry, Dean, I have the desert sage you gave me in my pocket. It will protect me, right?'

‘Not from septicaemia,' he said dryly.

I smiled and held the blade of the knife over the flames. I felt the handle start to warm as I watched the flames flicker. They were mesmerising, and a heavy, calm sensation came over me.

‘It's time,' Dean whispered.

I looked up and the moon had revealed herself: an enormous luminescent pearl floating up over the mountains.

‘Dean, can you please hold the bag open for me?'

He grabbed the bag and stretched the neck wide.

I scooped up a handful of the sand from the stone's surface and let the grains slowly trickle in. The hairs were harder to get in there because they were sticky. In the end Dean helped me scrape them off the tissue with a stick.

All that was left to put in was my blood.

Focus.

I looked at my right palm, and as quickly as I could I drew the knife across the edge of it.

It didn't hurt – I felt like I was in another world as the blood oozed up.

I held my hand over the pouch and watched the blood drip in as a tingling sensation started to pulse from my feet, moving up my legs and through my body.

I looked to the moon, which was now really bright, and took a deep breath. ‘Matt Rock is in love with me,' I said solemnly.

I wiped my hand on my black jeans – the bloodstain wouldn't show. Dean handed me the bag and I pulled the drawstring shut tight.

We sat in silence until I heard Dean sniggering.

‘What?' I said.

Dean just laughed harder and collapsed to the ground, holding his sides. ‘Vania! This is nuts!' he said between fits of laughter.

I burst out laughing, too. Was it nuts? Tomorrow would tell.

Eight

I was woken by sunlight streaming through my bedroom curtains. I dragged myself out of bed, wondering if any light would be shed on the success of my spell from last night.

I pulled on a pair of jeans and then procrastinated about which T-shirt to wear.

‘Vania! You'll miss your bus,' my mother said, sticking her head around my door.

‘It's cool, Mum, I'm ready now.'

I'd chosen a tight, bright-blue T-shirt with sparkling magenta lips stencilled on it. Not my usual style, but if I was going to cast manipulative love spells I figured I might as well dress the part.

I was excited as I approached the bus stop. I couldn't wait to see if my spell had worked. But when I got on the bus I was disappointed to see that Matt wasn't there. What had I been expecting anyway – that he'd be sitting there waiting for me with a bunch of roses?