Page 42 of Practically Magic

“I was stalling.”

“No, I mean, why is a strange college kid in love with you?”

Right. That is a little weird. I can’t even remember where he went to school, but there are no colleges in Mystic Hollow. He must be home for the weekend or something. “Just proof that we need to get Colton.”

“I don’t know, Kat,” Laney says, shaking her head. “I don’t think you’re invisible at all.”

A clatter on the counter makes us turn. Zach has set down another can of whipped cream. “Heard you two,” he says, like it explains anything. “Although there are twenty servings per can, so I really hope you were joking.”

Oh no. Not him, too.

“Actually, we should be going.”

“We?” Laney asks.

“Yes,” I say grimly. “We.”

I drag Laney home, but somehow Harry isn’t back from her coffee date with Jack, which either means it went really badly or really—blech—well. We both spend the afternoon poring over the family spell book, but there’s nothing about a love curse turning into a crush enchantment or how the town wards could turn into a creepy creature magnet or why Harry’s spells to fix the house have just been breaking it more.

“It’s all backward,” I mutter to myself.

“Maybe Harry has the yips. Maybe all her spells are falling apart.”

“Maybe,” I say, but I’m not convinced.

“Why don’t you try a spell,” Laney suggests.

I snort. “Why, you think I can do better than Harriet Hadley?”

“Just try.”

I sigh and snatch up a pad of paper. “Fine. I’m guessing you want something to eat?”

“I’d kill for a hot chocolate, actually. Someone pulled me away from my latte before I could finish it.”

“Fine.” I scribble down her cosmic order, then shred the paper. It’s not a particularly complicated spell, so I don’t need to get fancy.

Still, I’m pleasantly surprised when a cup manifests on the counter.

“Wow!” Laney enthuses. “You cast a spell, Kat!”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” I gripe.

She takes a big sip, but the next thing I know I’m being sprayed in the face.

“Ack!”

“Not hot chocolate?”

“No,” she says, wiping off her tongue. “It’s cold. And . . . salty. Totally the opposite of what I wanted.”

I stare at her. “Say that again.”

“No offense. I mean, you’re still learning how to be a witch and I’m sure—”

“No, it’s the opposite.” My heart jumps into my throat. I cast a spell to get a sweet, hot drink and instead got a cold, salty one. Harry cast a spell to make me invisible to boys, but now I’m all they can see. “Oh no.” I press a hand to my stomach, where nausea turns it over and over. Because generations of Hadley witches cast hundreds of spells to drive away all the evil. And now Mystic Hollow has become a beacon.

“Like I said,” Eleanor says, floating over just as Laney takes another sip, and that’s a second spit take in my face.