I almost don't do it. I almost roll my eyes and push the clock into the back of the closet. But when your boyfriend ditches you right before the Halloween party and you're already dressed as Glinda the Good Witch from The Wizard of Oz, well, sometimes you do things you wouldn't normally do. 

So, following crazy Aunt Tara's instructions, I stand in front of the clock she'd sent me as a Halloween gift and start the countdown. The card said at the stroke of midnight I would be transported to Halloween in another year. I'm not convinced this will actually happen. Aunt Tara goes around telling everyone she's a witch, but her spells aren't exactly at the Harry Potter level. Once I'd tried her love potion, and every living thing (boy, girl, mouse, cockroach) at school avoided me for a week. 

But, hey, this time, I have nothing to lose.

Midnight. Silence. And then what feels like a giant vacuum sucks me into some kind of wind tunnel. I can't even scream. Can't even breathe. Before I can panic too much, I land. But where? And when?

This isn't Halloween. It is... New Year's Eve. And I'm in Times Square with the year 2030 flashing in the air as the giant Pumpkin (weird—it used to be a ball) drops. But wait a minute. As soon as the pumpkin hits bottom, everyone cheers "Happy Halloween!"

"What's this all about? I'm not from around here." I shout above the noise to my nearest neighbor.

"It's how we celebrate Halloween in Manhattan ever since some crazy witch destroyed the ball and messed up our New Year's Eve celebration."

"Uh-huh." Aunt Tara for sure.

And then, all of a sudden, I see me. Well, a version of me in ten years. I'm with friends I don't recognize. I get closer and overhear them. "Run, run!" they say to older me. "He told us if he doesn't find you here, he'll take off. Back to London and who knows if you'll ever see him again! Lucy, it's now or never."

I realize I'm holding a broom, and I can feel the broomstick wobble. Really? I look at it strangely, then hop on and test it. I levitate just above the crowd. Then I stretch out a hand to older me, who accepts without realizing she's holding hands with herself. And we're off!

"Who are you?" she/me asks. But I'm too busy driving a broom to answer. And then we're above him. I lower her/me to the ground, and she/I rushes into our dream guy's arms. I'm just about to ask a cauldron load of questions when that vacuum thing sucks me up.

I land in my room with a thump. I try to remember what my future dream guy looks like, but I can't. That's OK. I know he exists. I rush to my desk and start a thank you note to Aunt Tara.