A single perfect glob of gloss shot into the air and landed neatly in the waiting tube on my desk.
I grinned. “See? Nailed it.”
“Or doomed yourself. Time will tell.”
Then another two pops sounded in quick succession, landing on my mirror. I froze, eyeing the cauldron and waiting for the whole potion to blow up, but after a few moments nothing happened, and my breathing returned to normal.
Sliding the cap on, I held it up to the lamplight. The sparkles inside danced like tiny, trapped stars and in the vanity mirror’s corner, the glass shimmered once, faint as breath on cold glass. I didn’t notice. But something else did.
I grinned at the tube. That was it. It was going to work. I’d finally get Nate, with his dark hair, warm brown eyes, to see me as more than that girl who sits two rows over in English. I’d known Nate since we were thirteen, and now we were aged eighteen, ready for the real world, and we were still finding new ways to be awkward around each other.
I wasn’t supposed to have a crush on Nate.
We’d been friends too long for it to make sense, the kind of friends who’d spent years trading bad puns over text at two a.m. and rescuing each other from awkward parties. He was the person I called when my car made a weird noise, or when I needed someone to eat half a pizza with no questions asked because my other best friend, Bianca was always on a diet. He was also the boy who’d been sketching his way into my daydreams since middle school.
But somewhere along the way, his stupid, lopsided grin stopped looking like just my best friend’s smile and started feeling like trouble and the good kind.
I tucked the gloss into my skirt pocket, ignoring Raven’s low mutter about Council violations and romantic catastrophes. The Magical Council didn’t need to know about it. They were the secretive bigwigs who ran the supernatural community, kept magic hidden from mortals, and punished witches for rule-breaking. My mom worked for them and she’d kill me if she found out.
I checked my reflection in the mirror; vintage cream-and-brown skirt, combat boots, crow necklace, hair in a high ponytail so the glitter in my chocolate brown hair caught the light. Cute and capable and not doomed. Not doomed at all.
For a split second, the mirror glimmered. The air felt colder. Something dark shifted just behind my reflection, taller, human shaped. Then, it was gone. The temperature dropped so fast my breath puffed white for half a second. My image warped, as if the glass had softened under heat, making my face ripple at the edges. A cold prickling crawled over the back of my neck, and my heart thudded so hard I felt it in my fingertips. Every instinct screamed not to blink and that if I did, whatever I’d just seen might still be there when my eyes opened.
By the time Bianca’s ancient hatchback pulled into the driveway, my nerves were buzzing.
“Let’s go get your man!” she yelled, leaning across the passenger seat, her pink-and-blue hair wild in the wind. Bianca was human and the one person I’d ever told about me being a witch, not that my mother knew she knew. We had been friends for fourteen years and I didn’t want to keep secrets from her.
“Or detention,” Raven muttered from behind me.
I ignored him and climbed in. Tonight, Nate was going to notice me. One swipe of gloss, one kiss, and my life would change.
The school was bustling for the annual Romeo and Juliet production. I didn’t care about the play. I cared about the boy manning the ticket booth.
Nate. Sketchbook at his elbow, dimples flashing as he chatted with some parents.
“The show is about to start. Please take your seats and enjoy this evening’s performance of Romeo and Juliet,” a voice announced over the school’s speakers.
I watched as the corridor emptied, and Nate began locking up the cash box. “Hey, Nate,” I said, stepping up to the table. My hands shook and my heart pounded the same as they always did when he was near.
His gaze flicked to mine. “Jess, hi.” His face broke into a warm smile, his eyes darting away from mine and landing on the table.
My eyes drifted to his open sketchbook. My breath caught. Staring back at me from the page was a girl with long hair, a crow pendant, and a star-shaped beauty mark under her left eye.
“Wait… is that me?”
His cheeks went crimson. He slammed the book shut, sending a stack of tickets tumbling to the floor. Then, he folded it toward him like it was something fragile. He met my eyes, held my gaze, and for a second, the hallway noises fell away.
Nate knelt to pick up the fallen tickets. “I’ll—uh—be right with you.” He called from under the table.
Before I could lose my nerve, I crouched under the tablecloth to help. His fingers brushed mine, warm and clumsy.
“Jess,” he murmured, almost apologetic, like he was about to say something he wasn’t sure how to finish.
My chest tightened.
Now or never.
I whispered the spell’s trigger, “Peach kisses,” and leaned in.
