I ended up spending the rest of my Sunday at home. Willow said she felt like death, and Ash sent her a message claiming he couldn't get out of a family obligation. After the excitement of the last two days, alone time sounded heavenly, but when it was time to go to sleep that night, I couldn't shake a strong sense of unease.

By the time I reached school, the feeling was stronger still, and it was all I could do to keep from banging my head against the steering wheel before climbing out of the car. This was not how I was supposed to feel when I came to school. This was my safe haven.

"Someone is in a foul mood," Flannery said, her sable eyes following me to my desk. She'd done her hair over Sunday, and it hung down her back in long, black waves. When she moved, I spied a pink peekaboo piece.

"Don't let Sister Maria see your hair," I said, opting to ignore her comment.

"It's hot, though. Right?"

Thinking of my own adventures with pink hair over the weekend, I forced a smile to my lips. "You can definitely pull it off.

"You should let me put one in yours."

A hand flew to the thick braid tossed over my shoulder, and I curled my fingers around it in a protective shield. "Definitely not."

Flipping open her Algebra book, she started doodling in the edges. Just the sight of her defacing a book made me wince internally- it didn't matter that I sometimes dreamed of putting mine in a bonfire. But when I saw what she was writing, the inward wince manifested physically.

"I'll be sure to let Ash know you'd like him to take your name."

Her pen lifted, and she studied her work. "Ash Connors does have a good ring to it, but I think he'd prefer Wych."

The warning bell rang, and the room began to fill up. I used it as a distraction, turning away from her to pull my book out of the bag. "If you think he's so into me, why are you still crushing on him?"

"Because that boy is straight fire. A girl can dream. Oh, btdubs, I just saw your message about Allyson this morning. Figured I'd just wait til I saw you to talk about it."

"You just saw it?" I said, not bothering to hide my disbelief. Flannery's phone stayed glued to her hands between classes and sometimes during.

"Girl," she started, lowering her voice to a whisper when Sister Julia entered the room, "mom took my phone after I missed curfew on Saturday."

"Alright, all side conversations should cease immediately. You are here to learn about math not about your weekends."

Sister Julia's booming voice silenced the classroom, and I did my best to focus on the lesson. I couldn't afford to fail another test, but I struggled with math on a good day. Studying my classmates revealed I wasn't the only one struggling today. Glazed eyes stared at the dry erase board, not comprehending the equations scrawled across the surface.

The familiar musty smell and creaking sound of desks eased some of the tension from my body, and when the dismissal bell rang, I'd forced the sense foreboding to the back of my mind. Flannery, always faster than me, waited for me outside the classroom, her bright white tennis shoes tapping an impatient rhythm on the dingy linoleum.

"Sorry," I muttered, straightening the straps of my backpack over my shoulders as we headed to our next class. She arched a brow but said nothing. This was normal. I exhaled. This was routine. Comfortable.

The high pitched squeals and giggles of teen girls bounced off the metal lockers, the din almost deafening. Flannery waved at a few friends, but she didn't leave my side to talk to anyone. We shared the next class- Honors English, but afterwards, I wouldn't see her again until we met up in the parking lot.

"So, how's your friend?" She waited until we reached the stairwell to ask. It was quieter here, making it easier to speak softly.

"Felt like crap the next day, but I think she's alright. Did you find out what Allyson put in the drink?"

"She was tweaking so hard she couldn't even understand what I was asking. Just kept giggling. I don't even know why she was there. She's too old to be hanging out with a bunch of high school kids."

"Charlie was there," I pointed out.

"Yeah, he was," she said with a lascivious grin.

"Good lord," I muttered, wiping at the sweat on my forehead as we reached the third floor. It was always stuffy in the stairwells, and it smelled like cheap perfume and gym socks. I told myself that's why the fresh air felt so good when we stepped into another loud hallway.

"She's twenty-one. Charlie's nineteen. He still has friends in high school, and he's keeping an eye on his little sister. Anyways, he said he'd talk to her."

"Charlie? He knows her well enough to do that?"

We were in our classroom, and Flannery shrugged as she dropped her bag to the floor. A fine sheen of perspiration covered her cheeks, and she fluttered her blouse to cool herself off. Overhead, I could hear the whine of the air conditioning, but for all its laboring, the room felt like a furnace.

"Yeah, I guess. He said he did."

"I thought Charlie only hung out with intellectual types."

We were both flapping our shirts now, and we defied dress code by removing our cardigans. Others in the classroom followed suit.

"He does or did. Besides, Allyson used to be way smart, but she dropped out of school this year."

"Alright ladies," Sister Laura stepped in the room, her round cheeks red as apples as she looked us over. Even though she was always kind, she was a stickler for the rules, but not a single word passed her lips about the discarded clothing.

"Why is it so hot in here?" Mary Beth Williams wailed, lifting her curly hair off her neck with one hand and fanning herself with the other.

"It would seem the unit has frozen up, and because this is the top floor, we're going to take the brunt of the heat."

"Sister Laura," Flannery leaned over her desk, fingers gripping the edge from the top and her knees pressing against the bottom, "how we supposed to learn anything when it's this hot?"

Everyone nodded in agreement. I glared at the sun beaming through the windows, wishing my favorite wish- to one day live where Fall was an actual season and not a second summer.

"I've an idea. Gather your things and follow me. We'll write our creative essays on the quad. It'll be perfect since you're supposed to be working on showing and not telling."

A chorus of yeses filled the room, and we bolted from the oven disguised as a classroom. Others must've had the same idea. By the time we reached the quad, it was nearly filled with students and teachers, most lifting their faces into the September breeze, their eyes closed in sheer delight.

Flannery and I found a spot near the edge of the quad, the part backing up to a wooded area. Tree branches stretched over us, blocking the brunt of the sun. Wind teased the leaves, sending shadows capering across the ground and filling my ears with their whispers.

"Oh that's good," I said out loud, uncapping my pen and jotting the words in my notebook.

A little more of my inner turmoil slipped away. Writing soothed me, but I didn't devote nearly as much time to it as I should. I had-once. My mother had oohed and awed over it, claiming her daughter was a writing genius. Two seconds later, Harmony levitated one of Mama's high heels and nothing more was said about my story. I never showed her anything again.

"We're not gonna get poison ivy are we?"

Wrinkling my nose, I looked at Flannery. "What?"

"Your arm?" She pointed, and we both looked down.

"Oh, yeah. No, we're good here," I said, praying she didn't ask to see my arm. I didn't think poison ivy vanished in a couple of days.

My brain struggled to return to the task. Was it only three days ago my biggest concern was my mother finding out about a trip to see an impoten nurse? Now, my double life was catching up with me, and someone was putting magical roofies into drinks at parties. 

"Damn girl. That locket is gorgeous. When did you get that?"

Flannery reached for it, and I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary as she examined it. To an impoten it should feel like cool metal, its only warmth derived from where it rested between my breasts. Which caused an odd thought to trigger in my brain.

"Did Ash give this to you?"

The question jolted me, and the burgeoning revelation went away. "No! Why on earth would he give me something like this?"

"Pfft, I told you. He likes you, or at least, thinks you're hot."

"It's an early birthday present from my grandmother."

"Rose. Your birthday is three months away."

"And? My grandmother gets antsy." Not a total lie. Not really.

"Hmm, whatever. You could tell me if it was from Ash. I wouldn't be mad."

"Flannery, I promise. It's not from him."

"But, really-" She whipped her head to the left and stared into the woods. "Did you hear that?"

"No-" A twig snapped. "I-it's probably just a squirrel."

"That's one big ass squirrel," she said, dropping her notepad to the ground and walking toward the noises.

Noises. Plural. Because now it sounded like an army of squirrels crashing through the forest. An army of squirrels that just happened to sound like Harmony and Jemina cursing under their breath. What the heck were they doing in St. Augustine?

"We really, really shouldn't go in there. What if there is poison ivy in there?" I had a charm to protect me. Flannery didn't, and neither one of those girls would hesitate to use their magic on an impoten. Especially if they were up to no good.

Flannery waved her hand at me. "I want to see what's going on."

"This is stupid," I snapped. Another voice sounded. Whiskey and velvet smooth- it rushed over me like midnight rain. 

Ash.

"Come on."

"Lead the way."