Accidentally Evil by Lara Chapman

of that book.”
    â€œOkaaaay,” I say, removing her hand slowly.
    â€œPromise me you won’t. Really, really bad things can happen.”
    â€œHow do you know? Did Linette tell you that?”
    â€œPromise me.” Her voice is more serious, and I realize she isn’t kidding.
    I hold up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
    Ivy lets out a huge sigh, like she just saved my life. Which only makes me more curious about what happens when a page is torn out of the Book of Shadows. Curiosity can be dangerous at Dowling.
    â€œShould I turn off the lights?” I ask.
    Ivy lights the candle with her fingertips like we learned in the Crafter meeting, then nods.
    I flip the switch, and the yellow candle lights our room. The last bit of sun peeks through the blinds. It gets dark earlier and earlier this time of year. “We have an hour to study before dinner,” Ivy says.
    We use Ivy’s notes because they’re actually legible, and we follow each step to the letter. After the paper has turned to ash and we turn on the lights, I ask Ivy, “Do you think the spell actually makes you focus more? Or do you think you focus more because you cast a spell? And you trick your brain into thinking the spell makes you smart. Like the placebo effect. Remember that? We learned about that in science last year.”
    Ivy looks at me like I’ve gone a little crazy. “Huh?”
    I shake my head. “Never mind.” Is the spell making me too analytical? Because I’ve got plenty of that in me. I definitely don’t need any more.
    After thirty minutes of studying, I have to admit I feel more focused, but it’s time to take a break.
    I yawn, stretch my arms over my head. I look at Ivy sitting across from me on the floor. There’s a light blue mist behind her that doesn’t make any sense. I shut my eyes tight, rub them. I knew I was tired, but now I’m hallucinating. That can’t be good.
    When I open my eyes, the blue mist is still there. I point behind her. “Do you see that?”
    She looks behind her and shakes her head. “What am I looking for?”
    â€œYou don’t see anything?”
    She turns back around. “Hmmm. Nope.”
    My throat tightens, and Ivy reaches over the candle and touches my arm. My fear fizzles through her, and she pulls her hand back. “Why are you so afraid?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I want to say. Instead I tell her, “I’m just tired. Guess I’m seeing things.”
    She looks at me hard. “I’m not buying it.”
    I shrug it off. “I’m fine. I didn’t sleep well last night. That’s all.”
    She leans back against the bed. “You know you can tell me what’s bothering you.”
    â€œIt’s nothing!” There’s just a blue mist surrounding you that only I can see. What’s wrong with that? I feel slightly—okay, a lot—hysterical.
    â€œOkay,” she says, “You keep forgetting I’m an empath. You can’t hide your feelings from me. I’ll get the story out of you. You know it’s just a matter of time.”
    â€œYeah, yeah.” I finally force a swallow, and it feels like I’ve shoved a tennis ball down my throat. She’s right, of course. She’ll figure it out. But for now the blue mist is my secret. I want to make sure I’m not going crazy first.
    I put my notebook back on my lap and begin working on another fraction problem, but I can’t focus and Ivy’s in the mood to talk.
    â€œDid you ever ask Cody about the rumor Jo and Dru heard?”
    I put my notebook down. “You mean the completely ridiculous rumor that he’s some kind of royalty at Riley? Uh, no. Because, you know, I’d sound like an idiot.”
    Ivy shakes her head. “There’s something to this, Hal. I’m telling you. I feel it.”
    â€œQuit playing the empath card,” I tell her.