He was right. My grandmother would be disappointed in me if I used my powers for something so trivial as a parking spot, but my friendship with Skyler wasn’t trivial and she rarely asked me for anything.
“Please, Tansy,” she said. She was my best friend, and it wasn’t like she was asking me to turn her ex into a toad or anything.
There was magic in the world if you knew where to look. Finding a parking spot in L.A. required luck and, sometimes, a little magic. My two friends were the only ones at school who knew I was a witch, and neither of them had ever needed me to prove it. But I’d needed it, so I’d shown them what I could do.
It hadn’t been a big deal the first time I’d done magic in front of them, but for some reason, it felt like it was tonight. That if I used my magic right now, it would change the course of the night.
But I decided to do it anyway. “Go around the block again,” I said. “Slowly.” Skyler squealed, knowing she would be getting her way.
“Thank you, thank you,” she said. The fervent note in her voice gave me pause, but I closed my eyes and concentrated on the spell.
We were back to the party location. At first, I thought the spell hadn’t worked, that we could turn around, head home, and eat popcorn and watch a horror movie on Netflix instead of going to this party.
Two houses down, a Tesla pulled out of a space, and Skyler crowed triumphantly before nabbing it.
What I hadn’t told my friends, because I didn’t want them to worry, was that magic always had a price, and I’d have to pay it eventually.
Skyler turned off the convertible, but she didn’t get out immediately. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Spill it.” Her excited smile reminded me of the Skyler she used to be, loud and happy and sharing every secret with me. Until Connor.
“My new guy’s band is playing here tonight!” She clapped her hands and bounced in her seat. “Isn’t that the best?”
I smiled at her. “It is.” I loved music, all kinds of music, but especially live performances. There was something special about seeing a band live for the first time. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so terrible after all.
I nearly twisted an ankle on our way to the house, but Vaughn caught me by the elbow to steady me. Sky had no trouble in her impossibly high heels and a dress that masqueraded as a slightly long T-shirt. I was wearing a pink dress Skyler’s stepmom had discarded and, in honor of the momentous occasion, a freshly washed scowl.
I’d finally pieced together what was different about Sky tonight. She wasn’t wearing her charm necklace, the one that matched mine. The ones that Granny Mariotti added charms to on every special occasion for both of us.
“Where’s your necklace?” I instinctively touched mine. It was heavy with memories of our friendship, like a laminated corner of a ticket from our first concert, a tiny silver witch’s broom she’d given me for my sixteenth birthday, and a miniature of a photo of Skyler and me that Granny had taken when we were seven. We were covered in stepmother number one’s expensive makeup, arms entwined, grinning at the camera.
Those necklaces were the story of us and were imbued with protective magic. It had been the first spell I’d ever cast.
“The clasp broke,” she said. She tugged on the diamond stud in her left ear. She only did that when she was lying, which made my stomach hurt.
I stopped walking—which made her stop, too—and narrowed my eyes at her. “The clasp broke and you didn’t say anything?”
“Yes,” she replied flatly.
“Skyler—” I said, but her phone buzzed with a text.
“C’mon, hurry or we’ll miss it,” she said. Even though I was taller than she was, she walked so fast that I couldn’t keep up. She was used to walking in heels; I was not.
From the outside, the house looked like your average multimillion-dollar home. It was a modern structure of concrete and glass, but it looked like an expensive prison to me.
There was the sound of someone’s loud, slightly off-key singing, accompanied by jangled instruments that just managed to stay in time together.
Skyler beamed. “That’s The Drainers.”
Vaughn winced but then wiped his expression clean when she glared at him.
She said the name of the band the way Granny Mariotti talked about The Grateful Dead. Or Bowie.
The music improved, though, the closer we got. The jarring sounds were slowly replaced by music that wrapped around me like an embrace, pulling me in. The song was full of longing and promise, the singer whispering that he knew all my secrets but they didn’t matter. He would love me anyway. Forever.
Now I understood what Skyler was talking about. I only wished I’d discovered the band first. I walked faster, suddenly eager to get closer to the music.
Everyone seemed to be poolside, so we walked through a breathtaking living room and kitchen to the back of the house.
The music was louder here, and a crowd had gathered around a small stage. A tall blond guy wearing leather pants with a leather vest but no shirt sang in a husky, compelling voice that oozed lust and longing.
My jaw dropped. Three other guys, nearly the most attractive I’d ever seen—and I lived in Southern California, the home of models and movie stars—played instruments while the blond sang. Another guy, this one looking like a young Jason Momoa, with long dark hair and electric-green eyes, wore shorts and a black-and-white-checked flannel shirt over his tee as he strummed a guitar. A dark-haired guy was on keyboards, in a sharp suit with cheekbones a model would envy, and a tatted-up, muscular ginger played the drums as sweat poured down his bare chest.
Sky didn’t take her eyes from the stage—from the lead singer. A horde of girls pushed and shoved one another to get to the band members, particularly the guy in leather pants and no shirt. A part of me wanted to join the mayhem, but I managed to hang back.
What was happening to me? I felt a little dizzy and had to fight the urge to jump onstage and beg one of them to kiss me.
The lead singer held a ball of flame in his hands while the audience shouted for more, until suddenly the music ended in a loud crescendo. But something must have gone wrong with the special effects because the fire sailed over the audience’s heads and landed in the branches of a tree. And as quickly as the feeling of wanting to jump onstage had overtaken me, it vanished.
Everyone else was still entranced with the band, not paying attention to the fire hazard or to me, so I whispered a little spell, and the fire went out.
Most of the girls in the audience wore the same debutante white. “Is this some kind of cult?” I asked.
“It’s summer,” Sky replied. Summer meant people in Southern California wore lighter colors, but I’d never seen so many white dresses in one place.