"Who's responsible for Ruby and Emily after school?" Cassie asked, stepping up beside me. "I mean, if it were me, I'd force their butts back on that bus."

"Uncle David drove them home, then went to the center to get my mom. A truck filled with suitcases." I responded and gripped the enchanted plastic bag that was holding my cafeteria-food-stained clothes.

Cassie turned to face me. "Before we get this show on the road, I have another question: where did you get this denim jacket?"

"Oh, Graham gave it to me, well, more like let me borrow," I told her, trucking some loose hair behind my ear.

Her lips formed a smirk and she hit me on the shoulder with her hand. "Andi Elle Wilson, you bitch. Graham Wes likes likes your witch ass. See, I told you." Cassie stuck her tongue out at me.

"Come on; we should get going. West Hartford is four hours away, and there are tons of chores to complete," I said, ignoring what Cassie said about Graham.

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "So, how are we supposed to accomplish all this? Riding the public transport bus won't be an option, in this case, Andi."

"I got our transportation covered, Cass, don't worry." I winked then whistled with my fingers, and within thirty seconds, my flying broom zipped through the air towards us.

"Fuck, Andi, you're full of surprises today. First with Graham, now this. What's next, you'll start wearing a black pointed hat? Remember what your mom told you always embrace the powers inside." Cassie said, her eyes never leaving the broom that was floating in mid-air.

"Okay, first nothing happened between Graham except for me borrowing his furry denim jacket, and second witches don't wear pointy black hats, only witches in movies like Harry Potter wear them," I explained, grabbing the broom and got on after putting the enchanted plastic bag into my backpack.

Cassie got on behind me. Her arms were squeezing my waist. "How fast does this broom go?"

"Depends. Normally brooms can fly as fast as one hundred and fifty miles per hour." I told her. "You're not airsick, already, are you?"

Cassie chirps, "No. I'm fine," but I could tell she was lying.

The broom wobbled up and down for a second, which caused Cassie's arms to squeeze my waist tighter, practically crushing the life out of me.

"Hang on tight," I told her, then patted her knee for comfort. "We are outta here!"

The broom suddenly jerked forward, and Cassie let out a little scream as we began flying through leftover snow and ice-covered Danbury, Connecticut.

• • • •

"What happened with Danica? Did you tell her about your feelings for her?" I asked Cassie. I had to shout my question due to the massive gusts of wind blowing.

But instead of answering, she responded, "Don't go too fast, Andi." in a high-pitched voice like she'd inhaled some helium.

The broom began rocketing back and forth, and Cassie let out an ear-piercing scream. "Cassie, if we fall off this broom, we are dead," I warned, and she instantly went radio-silent.

"Now relax and remain calm because the more you fuss and freak out, the more the broom will wobble. Okay?" I felt her head nod against my back.

Lifting the nose of my broom, we began to sail upward, higher into the cloudy sky. The wind blew some hair into my mouth, but honestly, I didn't care. I was flying, and it felt like freedom.

"Are we near West Hartford yet?" Cassie asked from behind me.

"Only one way to find out," I said and tilted the broom down some, making it go downwards instead of upwards. "Hold on tight!" I shouted to Cassie as we plugged down to the ground, our screams mixed with excitement and fear like we were riding the biggest roller coaster.

Suddenly Cassie started yelling, "Andi, watch out!"

Soon the broomstick and our bodies hit the ground hard.

• • • •

Cassie glared at me with her arms crossed over her chest. "Next time, I'll ride the metro public transit instead of fly. Plus, both elbows hurt. See?" She pointed to each elbow, covered with barely any scratches.

Holding into the broomstick with one hand and brushing the gross slushy-snow off my jeans with the other, I said. "Stop being dramatic. We didn't die, Cass."

"But we crash-landed," she argued. "Isn't the broomstick enchanted?"

"Yes, the broom is enchanted, but flying still requires me to manually and magically steer. I couldn't concentrate because you kept screaming like some madwoman." I told her.

Ignoring me, she looked up and pointed towards something. Following her finger with my eyes, I saw she was pointing towards the back of some metal sign. Heading towards the sign, I didn't know what to expect. We could've been in West Hartford or in an entirely different city in Connecticut.

"Well, surprise, surprise. We're in West Hartford, after all." Cassie said. I could see the look of pure relief on her face. "You did it, Andi."

Glancing up, I saw the front of the metal sigh was blue with pictures of the Connecticut state flower, a mountain-laurel, and in enormous, bold letters were the words: "Welcome to West Hartford, Connecticut."

"You never said what happened with Danica. Did you confess your undying love to her?" I asked Cassie, glancing up from Google Maps on my phone. The directions said Kimberly Boutique was only two blocks away from someplace called Délicieux Bonbons–a French café and pâtisserie.

Nodding her head, Cassie said, "I did, but she shot me down, saying she only wanted to be friends." she shrugged, but I could hear the pain in her voice.

"Her loss," I told Cassie. "Danica doesn't deserve you."

Suddenly laughter escaped from Cassie's lips. "Can you imagine the look on my dad's face if he found out my date to the spring formal wasn't a dude? He'd have the biggest conniption ever," she explained, wiping tears from her eyes.

I nodded my head in agreement. Cassie's father, James Tomas, was, unfortunately, homophobic and believed that being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer, or asexual went against God and the Holy Bible, which made Cassie being bi difficult. The only people who knew about her sexuality outside of school were her mother, eleven-year-old little brother, Landon, and me.

"I mean, dad already wants Landon to join the Navy or the Marine Corps when he turns eighteen, like fuck, the kid is only eleven and in fifth grade," Cassie told me, sighing and kicked some random pebble on the sidewalk with the sole of her sneaker.

"Can't your mom talk to your dad about this? Maybe she can reason with–"

Cassie interrupted me with a snort. "Andi Bear, I love you, but sometimes you're too optimistic. James is an asshole homophobe who told me; men fight in wars, and women bleed and clean for their husbands. Men are allowed to have options, but women need to be obedient. Societies no longer in 1950s America, like get your head outta your caucasian ass. It's 2015, fucker."

Shaking her head, Cassie wiped the tears from her eyes again, but this time the tears weren't from laughter. They were from anger and sadness.

"So, Kimberly Boutique is only two blocks away? We should get going," she told me, grabbing my hand, then whispered. "Hey, don't worry, I'll be okay," she assured me, a smile tugging at her lips.

• • • •

Within the next hour, Cassie and I were on the front steps of Celia's lavish mansion. Clutching the two dresses hidden away from Ruby and Emily in black garment bags in each hand, I hit the door with my foot since Cassie was holding the drinks and the assortment of appetizers.

"How long does it take for someone to answer the damn door?" Cassie grumbled with chattering teeth. "God, it's cold. Hypothermia will be my cause of death, along with the other one thousand, five hundred Americans this year. Fuck the person who created freezing weather."

I turned to her. "Weather occurs due to air pressure, temperature, and moisture differences, Cassie. People don't cause weather; they re–"

"They report about the weather, I know, Andi." Cassie interrupted, meeting my eyes. "I was there when that Weather Forecaster came to our science class in seventh grade. Remember, Erickson Brown, kept kicking my chair."

I opened my mouth to respond but closed it when something soft touched me. Looking down, I noticed Augustus rubbing himself against my left leg, purring softly.

"Think he can open these stupid wooden doors with its ridiculous lion knocker?" Cassie raised an eyebrow in question, and her eyes landed on Augustus, whose only reply was a meow.

"Well, I believe that answers your question, Cass. Come on." Heading down the steps, I walked around the corner, which led to the now-dead rose garden along with Celia's twelve-hundred-dollar sparkling angel, slightly pornographic fountain, and the back entrance into the mansion through the kitchen.

The servents that Celia still had on hand used the back entrance when they needed an escape or cigarette break. I didn't blame them; working for Celia was legit hell on God's green earth.

"There better be fancy tuna at this gathering."

I stopped walking, which caused Cassie to bump into me. "Andi. Come on, keep moving, chica," she said.

My eyebrows knitted together as my eyes landed on Augustus again. I expected him to meow, but instead, he blinked his dark-green cat eyes. "What? I love tuna fish." He stated.

His voice sounded like the black cat Salem from Sabrina The Teenage Witch. The 1996 American sitcom I watched on mornings when I was little with my mother before moving in with Celia and uncle David.

"You can talk!" Cassie and I exclaimed in unison.

"H-how is this possible?" I asked, still in shock.

"I was once a warlock and also a friend of your mother's, but I got in trouble with the witches council and was forced to remain trapped inside this cat-body until I regain good standing with them. Plus, I promised your mother I would watch over you whenever she couldn't." Augustus explained and started cleaning his ears with his paw.

"Well, shit, can you do magic?" Cassie asked; her eyes grew wide. "Do you have supernatural powers too, like Andi?"

Augustus tilted his head to the side. "No, little girl," he eyed Cassie. "Not while in this catsuit. All my magical abilities are suppressed until I transform back into my-handsome-warlock-self."

With the sway of his tail, Augustus walked off towards the kitchen's back door. "Come on, Andi and her best-mortal-friend," he called out. "We need to hustle, ladies, darse prisa." Hurry up.

"So, he speaks Español too. Interesting." I said aloud and glanced at Cassie.

"He's one cocky-ass cat if you ask me." Cassie rolled her eyes and began following Augustus.

"Warlock. Not cat."

"Whatever!" We both shouted back in unison, not wanting to argue.

• • • •

"Are the Norwegian ducks ready yet? What about the special sauce? Come on, people. We have guests arriving in three hours... hustle your asses!" Chef Jean-George Pépin barked orders at his crew, who were bustling around the kitchen at warp speed.

Following Augustus through the chaotic kitchen to the hallway leading into the dining room, Cassie sat the drinks and appetizers down neatly on the dark-wooden table covered with white, silk tablecloth. While I continued clutching the two garment bags.

"So, where do these need to go–" I was about to ask but was interrupted by Celia gliding into the dining room looking flawless but with twenty-pounds of makeup caked on her face, making her resemble a circus clown. It was frightening.

"Ruby and Emily are in their rooms. Just go on up and hand them their dresses, dear." Celia instructed me.

I saluted and said, "Yes, ma'am."

Cassie giggled, making Celia turn to her and demand, "You. Why aren't you in uniform?"

"Excuse you? What uniform?" Cassie glared at Celia, looking her up and down. "I don't work for you. I'm only here to help my best friend out."

"Oh, of course, dear. My sincerest apologies." Celia forced herself to smile, but I could see her cheeks turn red with anger.

"Andrea, I'm trusted you still have the paper with the assigned chores?" she asked me, and I nodded my head. "Good. Get started." Then with the turn of her heel, she headed off in the direction she came.

"What an absolute nasty-ass Puta," Cassie remarked once Aunt Celia's out of earshot.

"You can pick your nose. You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family." I grabbed Cassie's hand. "Now, c'mon, there's a butt-load of shit to be accomplished."