Spell Check (2 page)

“Meet you at three,” she said, breathless.

“Won’t I see you at lunch?”

“Duh. Of course.” Looking dazed, Parvani dashed off to Honors Geometry without a backward glance.

I’d never qualify for an advanced math class. Before Parvani had transferred to town two years ago and taught me some math tricks, I couldn’t even memorize the multiplication table. Who knew when you multiplied any number by nine, the answer would always add up to nine? Eight multiplied by nine equals seventy-two. Seven and two equal nine.

I bet Jordan knew. Maybe he would have told me if the Smash Heads, his football teammates and the vilest bullies in the school, hadn’t teased him until he quit helping me. The loser.

I headed to a class I did excel in—Spanish. Afterward, I shivered the whole way to Mr. Ross’s classroom. Parvani and I had taken video production from him over the summer, so now he let us hide out in his room during lunch and watch Bewitched reruns on Nickelodeon.

“Hola, Mr. Ross.”

He glanced up from the quiz he’d been grading and frowned. “Evie, don’t you have a raincoat?”

I adore Mr. Ross, but sometimes he sounds way too much like my mother. “My sweatshirt is fine.”

“Cal Bears?” he asked, reading the logo.

“Yeah. My dad went to the University of California at Berkeley.” Before—you know.

“I see.” He sighed, his stocky body seeming to cave in on itself. “Well, close the door. I’m trying to keep the heat from escaping.”

“Sorry.” I pivoted and bumped into Parvani. Water ran off her expensive umbrella and onto my striped toe socks. Zhù Wong, one of Parvani’s fellow math geeks, appeared beside her and blinked at me from behind his rimless John Lennon glasses.

“Evie, Ms. Ravenwood assigned tons of math for the weekend,” Parvani said in a rush.

There went the sleepover.

“I’m going to the library and see how much I can finish. Want to come?”

Zhù’s eyes widened in a silent plea. He should just tell Parvani he likes her. It’s so obvious. Well, not to Parvani. She was too preoccupied with Jordan.

“Pass.” I raised my chin. “Math makes me break out in hives.”

Zhù’s shoulders relaxed. He’d grown four inches over the summer and his weight hadn’t caught up with his height, giving his long face a chiseled look. He might look hot if he ever smiled.

“Cross the field together after school?” I asked Parvani.

“Sure.” She radiated relief. I should have been offended, but we both knew she had a better chance of preserving her A average and getting to sleep over if I didn’t distract her. “Bye, Mr. Ross.”

He waved like a parade queen. “See you, Parvani.”

Zhù followed Parvani, turning toward me at the last moment with his hands together in a prayer position. With his back to Parvani he mouthed, “Thanks,” and gave me a little bow.

Okay. Maybe he doesn’t have to smile to look cute.

I closed the door behind them before I returned to my desk. Bewitched already played on the television. I scowled at the actor playing Darrin, the witch’s mortal husband. His no-witchcraft-in-my-house attitude irked me.

I slumped onto the molded plastic chair and pulled my copy of Kiss from the middle compartment of my backpack. The magazine should have had a slick, possibly toxic, smell. Instead, a faint spicy scent clung to it. A tingle spider-walked down my spine as I recalled the strange crone in the bookstore.

The wall clock ticked. Three hours and fifteen minutes until the last bell. Three hours and forty-five minutes until I could unload the spell book on Parvani and be done with the creepy thing.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur. I tuned out in Math, kind of hid during Yearbook, and spent Biology trying to ignore Jordan, who sat in front of me. A hex on teachers who make students sit in alphabetical order.

When school ended, I met up with Parvani and Zhù at the edge of the field. Zhù was saying, “It was so worth it.”

“What?” I asked as we headed across the soggy grass.

Parvani shook her head. “He used British spelling on the vocabulary test in English. On purpose!”

Zhù shrugged. “Hey, solidarity. My way of protesting her marking you down when you did it last week.”

“But I slipped up. You did it on purpose and it cost you half a grade.”

“So what? I made my point.”

“I think it was a sweet thing to do,” I said. “Insane, but sweet.”

Zhù beamed. Wow. His teeth are so white and even.

Ahead and to the right, the field dipped a bit. Rainwater had formed a glistening miniature lake, where a flock of gulls waded, searching for worms. Watching the birds, I paid little heed to the whip of nylon windbreakers and the masculine murmur behind me. Had my internal Smash Heads Radar been on like it should have been, scarlet warning lights would have flashed.

Tommy Deitch and Evan MacDonald pushed past us. Tommy shoved Evan, knocking him into me. Our shoulders collided hard, like an SUV sideswiping a Mini Cooper.

“Hey!” I halted, pain shooting down my arm.

“Tommy! Evan!” Jordan yelled from what sounded like several yards behind us.

They ignored the edge in Jordan’s voice and ran for the tiny lake. The birds took flight, their snowy wings thrumming the air. Evan, his greasy red hair flying, jumped into the puddle. Icy rainwater splashed my jeans.

I loathe being cold. I especially hate being cold and wet. Ignoring the squelch of running feet behind me, I concentrated on Evan’s pale, mocking face.

“Grow up, Evan.” Then I flung a forbidden noun at him, one my mother would never, ever approve of, just as Jordan trotted up alongside me. Tommy laughed. Evan’s expression caved as if I had hurt his feelings, which kind of shocked me. Parvani gasped. I’d like to think it was from the testosterone fouling the air, or Jordan’s belated appearance, but since she was glaring at me, I guess not.

Jordan, clutching a football, raised his arm. “Go long!”

Tommy and Evan took off toward the road, where parents picked up the freshmen and sophomores who didn’t take the bus. Maybe if Jordan threw the ball hard enough, they’d both keep going—into oncoming traffic.

Jordan hustled after them, turning once to wink at me. I think my jaw dropped. I know my stomach fluttered. Jordan caught up with the Smash Heads long before the gate, and grabbed each one by the shoulder. “Be cool,” I heard him say as he herded them toward the cyclone fence.

“Sophisticated language, Evie,” Zhù said.

“Shut up.”

“Evie!” Parvani’s voice rose.

I worked my fingers across the bruise forming on my bicep and gritted my teeth against the cold seeping through my jeans. We reached the cyclone gate.

“See you Monday, Parvani.” Zhù angled his body away from me and locked his gaze on the path.

Parvani patted Zhù’s shoulder. “Bye.” She drew out the word. Sympathy tinged her voice.

Regret fireworked through my insides. “Zhù—”

He’d already slid through the gate like a wounded shadow and disappeared into the throng of kids milling about the sidewalk.

Parvani swatted my arm. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at Zhù. I’m mad at the stupid Smash Heads, not him.”

I leaped across the muddy path, squeezed through the half-open gate, and stormed up to Mom’s battered Volvo. It wasn’t too hard to spot in the line of BMWs and SUVs. All the other parents had left their cars running to keep the heat blasting. Not my mom. Not Miss Save-the-Environment. I opened the car door and hurled my backpack onto the floor mat. My breath formed a vapor cloud as I scooted in. Mom slid sideways in the driver’s seat and lowered her romance novel. “Bad day?”

“I’m drenched and freezing.”

“Oh. Bummer.”

“Hello, Ms. O’Reilly.” Parvani slipped into the back seat beside me. A small stream dribbled off her umbrella and onto my sneakers. The cold water seeped through the canvas, through my socks to my skin, and I swear it pooled around my bones.

“Hello, Parvani.” Mom faced front again and rotated the key in the ignition. Welcome heat blasted from the vents, and Chicago blared from the stereo. “Wishing you were here…”

Mom tensed and flicked off the radio. I knew the song reminded her of Dad. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t burst into tears. She sniffed as she eased into traffic behind a monstrous blue SUV. “How about hot cider and popcorn in front of the fire when we get home?” Her voice sounded a little strangled.

Parvani threw me a worried look. “Brilliant.”

“Yeah, good idea, Mom.”

The windshield wipers whooshed across the glass. Mom’s suggestion did sound good, especially if I could change into dry socks and sweats first. I relaxed against the gray leather seat.

The rearview mirror reflected Mom’s green cat eyes. “You girls have any special plans for tonight?”

Parvani clutched my wrist.

“Nah.” I tried to sound innocent and nonchalant despite the sudden spike in my pulse rate. “Just the same old stuff.” Witchcraft, casting spells, voodoo…

“Uh huh.” Her eyes narrowed in the mirror.

An uneasy feeling festered in my stomach. Maybe I should have skimmed the spell book before I’d bought it. What if something goes wrong? What if we screw up and accidentally summon a demon, or burn down the house?

Or worse, what if the spell actually works?

Chapter Three

Baby, my retriever mutt, picked up her filthy tennis ball and wagged her tail when she saw us.

“How are you, Baby?” Parvani, who isn’t allowed to have pets and thus has no idea where Baby’s mouth may have been, sank to her knees and let Baby lick her face.

“No French kisses,” I admonished Baby. Then to Parvani, “Be right back.”

I grabbed a pair of flannel pants and a dry sweatshirt, and ducked into the hall bathroom. While I changed, the rose-colored toilet made an irritating running noise. Dad had always promised he’d fix it “next week.” I blinked back the sudden rush of tears and expelled a long breath. “Think about something else,” I told myself.

My gaze scuttled to the gray broken floor tile near the sink. The night before Dad’s funeral, Nana had dropped her hair dryer on it. She had flown up from Palm Springs to lend us moral support. The weird thing was Mom had seemed angry with her, as if somehow Dad’s death had been Nana’s fault. Nana may be a little airy-fairy sometimes, but she’s hardly the type to fly to a war-torn country and plant roadside bombs. Besides, she’d always liked Dad. Still, Nana had acted a little guilty, as if she had done something.

Maybe Teen Wytche has a clarity spell.

I plunged a burgundy terry cloth towel between my toes, stabbing at memories and guilt. Afterward, I pitched the towel in the hamper and shuffled back to my bedroom, where the homey smell of popcorn and cinnamon apple cider greeted me.

“Your mom brought us a snack,” Parvani called out from the rag rug in front of my desk. Baby’s head nestled against her thigh, suspiciously close to the snowman popcorn bowl perched on her lap. “I love your house.”

“You’re crazy.”

“My house is like a posh, soulless hotel.” Parvani swept her hair up into a low bun and shoved a pencil through it. “A wing for each of us so no one has to interact.”

“You can always slum with us.” I grabbed an overflowing handful of popcorn. Baby snapped to attention and hunted down the rogue kernels.

“Thank you.” Parvani glanced around. “Where’s the spell book?”

“It’s here somewhere.” Since the gypsy lady had freaked me out, I had left the grimoire in the bag and hidden it under last year’s math binder. I fished out the plastic bag and hefted it.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s heavier than I remember.” I pulled out the book and flipped it over in my hand. The plastic bag floated like a jellyfish to the floor. “Whoa.”

Parvani sat up straighter. “What?”

“I could have sworn it was a paperback.”

“It looks like purple leather to me.”

“Plum,” I corrected, running my fingers over the raised silver lettering. “I’m sure it was a paperback.”

“Now you’re the crazy one.” Parvani wiped her hands on a paper napkin. “Let me see.”

“Take it,” I said. “It gives me the creeps.”

Parvani stood up and handed me the popcorn bowl. She cradled the book in her arms, her dark eyes sparkling behind her designer eyeglasses. She picked her way across the debris littering my floor. “Cool title. Teen Wytche.” The air whooshed out of my down comforter as Parvani belly-flopped on my bed and started flipping through the pages. “Hmmm. There are a lot of steps we have to take before we can cast a spell.”

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff? I just agreed to get the book.”

Parvani went all injured-puppy on me and pursed her lips. “You have to help with the spell.”

No, I don’t.

“Come on. Please?” Parvani furrowed her perfectly waxed and shaped brows.

What I should have said was, “Look, I’ve had a crush on Jordan since we were three and I’d rather you didn’t go after him.” Instead, I thought about how Parvani had saved my butt in math about a million times, and how she’d stood by me even after I’d dyed my hair this weird color.

I sighed. “Can’t we just skip to the magic words and wave a wand?” Then bury the book in a cemetery or something?

“Thank you!” Her gleeful expression morphed into a frown. “But I don’t think so. We have to prepare ourselves and your room.” She trailed her hand down the page. “Do you know anything about casting a magic circle?”

“I used to draw circles on the driveway with chalk.” With Jordan.

Parvani glared over her black frames.

I faked nonchalance. “Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.”

“Hmm.” Parvani wrinkled her nose and kept reading.

I sank into the beanbag chair. This could take a while. There’s a reason Parvani was in Honors Geometry and I wasn’t. She never skips a step. She also reads much more slowly than I do, so I knew better than to try and read over her shoulder. Instead, I rooted through my desk for a highlighter. I know Parvani. She loves to highlight.

“Thanks.” Parvani took the yellow marker and pushed up into a sitting position. She immediately popped the top off and highlighted a sentence. “We have a problem.”