Underneath their desks, in ninth period history, Cora and Eva were texting.
Has your Beau asked you out yet?
He isn't my Beau and no he hasn't.
I wonder what's taking him so long.
Their teacher, Ms. Lovette, eyed Cora as she stalked up and down the rows. "Don't forget this project will count towards thirty percent of your grade, Ms. Emerson."
"Yes, Ms. Lovette." Cora stuffed her phone into her pocket. Once her teacher had passed, she scooted her chair closer to her desk and said to Eva, "Do you think it's because I'm still in high school?"
Eva shifted in her seat and whispered. "Maybe, but he's only a freshman so I don't get why he'd care."
"Maybe he thinks I'm not mature enough." Cora settled in her seat as Ms. Lovette passed again, but when she was at the front of the room, she leaned forward. "It's the only reason why he might not want to go out with me."
"That and the fact that you're super shy around him," said Eva, pointedly.
She had to admit her words stung. She'd been trying her best to win Beau over. "Hey, some guys like shy girls. Besides, he's kind of shy too. I think its super sweet."
"At least you have something in common. But if you really want him, you'll have to make more of an effort. Maybe he hasn't caught on yet."
She thought she'd been more than obvious about her attraction to him, but Eva had a point. It wasn't like he could read her mind. He probably hadn't even realized she liked him, as much as she needed to ruin his life of course.
She poked Eva's back with the tip of her pen. "What if he doesn't like me?"
Eva snorted. "I don't see why he wouldn't. You're super cute, Cora. You need to have more confidence."
A girl sitting across from them named Nola cleared her throat. For a while Cora stared at the handout they'd been given. It listed questions they could answer for their project.
"You can work in pairs, but you don't have to," Ms. Lovette was saying.
Eva spun around to her. "We're working together on this for sure."
"Ms. George," Ms. Lovette snapped, "you can choose your partner after class." Most of the students had done the same as Eva.
Eva turned so she was facing forward again. "Sorry, Ms. Lovette."
Ms. Lovette hopped off her desk where she'd been sitting and went to the blackboard, scribbling down information they'd need. Cora poked Eva's back with her pen again. "Do you think I should ask him out?"
Hadn't he said he wanted to hang out the night of their almost date? Why were boys so confusing?
"No, try flirting with him. That always works," Eva said.
"I've triâ"
Nola shot her a dirty look. She clicked her pen and pretended to write what Ms. Lovette had written on the blackboard. When neither Nola nor Ms. Lovette were watching, she scribbled down a note in the corner of her notebook, tore it out, and passed it to Eva.
Eva snickered. The note read: I have been flirting. I think. Maybe he's immune to my prowess.
"I doubt that," she said.
"Seriously you guys," Nola said. "Some people actually want to get a good grade, so why don't you shutâ"
The rest of the word was lost, sealed up in Nola's mouth, because Cora had imagined her with her mouth shut and snapped her fingers. Nola, making frantic noises, clawed at her face. Cora, surprised at what she'd done, snapped her fingers again but nothing happened. She snapped them again and again and again. Still zilch.
Nola tried all she could to get her mouth open, making noises that sounded like gurgling. Eva looked at Cora. Cora sank in her seat, feigning innocence.
"Ms. Lovette, I think something's wrong with Nola," said one of their classmates.
Ms. Lovette, the poor woman, had no idea what to do when Nola pointed at her lips.
"She can't talk," said a student.
"There's something wrong with her mouth," said another.
"Everyone, settle down." Ms. Lovette approached Nola, as someone would a stray, feral cat. "Why don't you tell us what's wrong," she said, incredulous of Nola's condition.
Nola pointed at her mouth, which was intact. Problem was she couldn't open it. Ms. Lovette's eyes widened with astonishment. Cora tried to imagine Nola talking again to her best efforts, but her mind flooded with other things. Images of Beau. Why he refused to call her. Eventually, a now crying Nola, got up and ran from the room.
Ms. Lovette was dismayed. "What happened to her?" she asked, her gaze shifting about the room at her students.
Cora had sunk so far under her desk she could almost see the old pieces of bubblegum stuck to it. Maybe hanging out with Tilda had an effect on her because she'd never done such a spell before. She couldn't deny, though, that she'd felt a slight thrill.
"Poor Nola," Eva said. The last bell had rung, and they were outside the school surrounded by other students who'd hung around to talk to friends too. "I wonder what happened to her. How scary." Shivering, Eva wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. The wind blew and her straightened hair got in her face. She brushed it away.
Cora didn't have anything to say that wouldn't sound unapologetic. Nola was known to be a bit of a know-it-all. She thought she'd had it coming.
Hartleigh Richmond and Sofie Baker went by. Eva waved at them. Cora waved too. "Do you want to head to the library?" Eva asked. "We can get a head start."
Cora wasn't sure what she meant, but then she remembered the project for history. It wasn't due until after winter break in January. "I think I'm going to head home," she said. "It's freezing out." She blew on her hands and rubbed them together as if to demonstrate. What she really wanted was to go home and call Beau. He hadn't called, so she'd have to take matters into her own hands. Her eighteenth birthday would be here any day now.
"Okay," said Eva, crestfallen. It was obvious she'd been let down.
Cora rubbed her arm to atone for it. "I'll see you tomorrow." They'd usually walk together down 5th street and grab hot chocolates from Crumbs and Crumble before they said goodbye. She didn't want to hang out today. Her relationship with Beau needed to be kicked up a notch. She at least wanted a real second date soon.
She walked all the way home, ran up the front steps, and had the key in the lock when she heard the yelling. "I'm home," she said, not expecting a response. She didn't bother to take off her coat and boots, striding into the living room where her mother and Willow were. Willow stood on one side of the coffee table and Stella on the other.
"What's going on?" she asked.
Her mother held up a finger.
"It's not fair," Willow said. "If Cora gets to do it I should too."
Their mother's voice was come and even. "I am your mother. I know what's best for you. You're too young."
"How old were you when you started dating?" Willow coaxed.
"I certainly wasn't twelve," said Stella.
Willow flinched, possibly expecting to be hit with a spell but nothing happened. "He likes me, Mom," she said. "And I like him."
Cora, watching from the doorway, knew Willow was pushing it too far. Her mother knew better than to let her temper flare, but it wouldn't last long.
"What do you know about anything?" Stella marched to the couch, picked up a throw pillow, began to fluff it, and threw it down. "I don't want you seeing that boy."
Willow flourished her hand at Cora. "Tell her she's being unfair."
"Momâ" Cora began. While she did agree that Willow wasn't old enough to date there was nothing wrong with them hanging out as friends.
"You, stay out of this." Stella pointed.
Cora conceded, backing away, but she didn't leave. Willow's stare was defiant, but her voice went quiet. "Please let me see him, Mom."
"No," Stella said with so much force that the windows creaked. She picked up the pillow again, as if the throw it at her daughter, but she didn't. She wouldn't. Stella didn't believe in hitting her children no matter how insolent they were. "You'll understand one day," she said.
Willow, angrier than ever, plodded around the coffee table. "Thanks a lot." She pushed past Cora, as if she'd been the one who forbid her dating.
Stella sighed. She sat, pillow on her lap, and closed her eyes. "She'll come around, Mom." Cora tried to empathize.
"No one told me it would be this difficult raising two teenage girls," she said. "I don't even remember talking to my mother that way."
Cora didn't think Willow had been that difficult, but she went over to her mother and kissed her cheek. "Do you want me to talk to her?"
"No, leave her alone."
"Do you want me to pour you a glass of wine?"
"The big glass." Stella rubbed her forehead. "I have such a headache."
Cora didn't like to enable her mother's drinking, but certain occasions did call for an alcoholic beverage. She considered pouring one for herself but didn't in case her mother hadn't yet calmed. Stella Emerson would shatter the windows if she found out.
In her room, she hit the power button on her laptop. While she waited for it to startup, she went through her messages, repeating Beau's number in her mind until she'd memorized it. She'd call him later.
Last night, she'd had a new idea for a blog post about changing seasons and new beginnings. She'd written it all down in her notepad. All she needed was to type it up and post it. Outfit photos would have to wait until her mother was in a better mood.
Cora logged into her blog and started a new post, her fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before she started to type. It took her a while to get into the groove, but once she'd finished, she reread it, and published with one click of her finger.
After which, she grabbed her cell phone and flopped onto her bed. Not hesitating a moment longer, she dialed Beau's number, hoping he would pick up. He picked up on the second ring.
"Cora?" he said, as if he wasn't entirely sure it was her.
She tried to make her voice sound deep and sultry as she said, "Hey, is this a bad time?" In the background, she heard the TV and a door closing and opening.
"No, I'm cooking. What's up?"
So, he's cute and a chef.
"Are you busy on Friday evening?"
"This weekend," he repeated, pots clanging in the background. "I think so. It's just that..."
"Just what?"
"Umm, nothing. What do you have in mind?"
She noted the intrigue in his voice. "Have you been bowling?"
Before Beau could answer, she heard the sound of a younger voice asking when dinner would be ready. "Hold on, Cor. I mean Cora," said Beau.
She bit her nails while she waited. It wasn't long before he said, "That sounds great actually."
"Great," she said. "It's a date. I would pick you up this time, but I don't have a car and my mom doesn't trust me to drive hers, but that's probably because I don't have a license."
He laughed and her heart felt a thousand times lighter, like it might grow wings and float away from her. "I'll pick you up," he said. "Around seven?"
"Sounds perfect. Was that Noah in the background?"
"Yeah. He's hanging out here for a while. Listen, can we talk later?"
"Yes," she agreed, though the lightness of her heart dulled a bit. She wanted to jump forward to their twentieth date when it wouldn't be so awkward. "Tell your brother hello for me."
"I will. Bye, Cora," he said, then the line went dead.
She rolled onto her back, phone clutched to her chest, staring at the ceiling. There were two months left before her birthday and if she didn't hurry up and cause some real harm, there'd be no wish on a candle that would stop her magic from dwindling. She'd have to muster all her courage if she wanted this to workâher magic already on the fritz.
Like Nola, Beau too had it coming.