Page 40 of Practically Magic

“I don’t want to argue. It’s all in the past. We were in middle school. I will forgive you on one condition.” He smiles magnanimously: “You be my date to Colton’s party tomorrow night.”

“Where the heck is this coming from?” I say. “You’ve had four years. Four years to apologize to me. To even look at me.”

“I . . . I don’t know,” he says. “It feels like I’ve been looking for you forever, Katherine Hadley. And before, I was blind. But now that I can see you . . .” He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. “I never want to look away again.”

And then he’s leaning in. For a kiss? Is Ryan Elliott really trying to kiss me in the middle of this Haunted House of Hamburgers?

I rip my arm away and run, screaming, “Gotta go!”

On my way out, I barely catch Chris muttering, “Not another one.”

16

Mystic Hollow Community Page

New post from Mayor Croft: I am pleased to tell you power has been restored to our town. Wi-Fi issues are ongoing, but our teams are working on those as well. Halloween is saved! And now you can all post about it!

New comment from Fran Carleigh: Still no power at my house.

New comment from Anonymous: I’m not sending my kids anywhere when that flying bat with red eyes has been spotted again. What are you doing about Mothman, Mayor?

New comment from Rick Faulen: Mothman is a myth!

New comment from Rick Faulen: Okay, never mind, I saw him too.

I race all the way to Spirited Books, even though it means sprinting through the green, past the statue of Harold Croft, past what I really hope is a group of enthusiastic tourists in early Halloween costumes and not actually an entire pack of werewolves.

By the time I crash through the door, I’m breathing hard.

“Oh no,” Laney says from the ladder she’s perched on to restock the upper shelves. “What did Colton do this time?”

“Wasn’t Colton,” I gasp out.

She sighs, then steps down. “C’mon. Mom, I’ll be back in twenty.”

“Where going?” I wheeze.

She grips my shoulder and walks me over to Witches Brew. I’ve never seen it this busy—I can’t tell who are students, tourists, or just plain cryptids. “We’ll have our usual,” Laney says, snapping at Zach.

Zach, who looks far too tired for someone who works as a purveyor of caffeine, slides two gourds over to us. “Don’t snap at me.”

“The customer is always right,” Laney retorts.

“You two don’t even pay,” Zach whines as he steps away, only to return with the whipped cream canister, looping it over my cup.

I shake my head and he raises a brow, adding another spritz. Again, I shake my head. “More.”

“Hadley—”

When he stops, I lean forward and press the nozzle by pushing his thumb down with my own—and then unhinge my jaw and shove my head underneath the sweet waterfall.

“That’s the good stuff,” I say, eyes closed in bliss.

Zach thunks the whipped cream down next to me.

“No, it’s okay, I’ve had enough.”

“That’s yours now.”