A RETELLING OF PRACTICAL MAGIC.
A 300-year-old family curse. A teenage witch with a broken heart. And a lone wolf determined to solve a missing person's case.
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For three hundred years, a witch family has endured a curse: any man an Owens girl d...
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My sister's text appears before I can even turn the corner. I see her standing by her locker, arms crossed, brows raised, and lips pursed as if she's been sucking a lemon.
Since we could talk, Ginny and I have had this psychic connection to each other. When she's feeling especially sad, scared, or excited, I receive glimpses of her energy—and vice versa. Our aunts have it with each other too. It's how they knew my mom died of a broken heart. They caught glimpses of her anguish right before she chose to end her grief forever.
"It's nothing, Gin. Just leave it alone." I stop at my locker and deposit my chem book.
Her bright gaze studies me. "Seriously, Silver. Whose ass do I need to fry?"
Grunting while trying to rearrange my text books, I say, "I am more than capable of frying my own asses, thank you. I am your elder."
Ginger places a hand on my shoulder. "We both know that you continue to be a stubborn shrew who refuses to use her magic. While I, on the other hand, don't mind zapping April and Bryant to the Netherlands. It's them, isn't it? They're the ones making you feel this way."
"I said leave it alone, Ginny," I growl.
She takes a step back, her brows peaking. "Sheesh, alright. I was only half-kidding." She bites down her lip. "Well, sort of."
"Can we just go home now? I have to close the shop tonight. Aunty Fran asked and I can never say no to her."
My sister throws up her hands. "Fine."
I'm thankful she leaves it at that and quietly follows behind.
As we head toward our bikes outside, I can't help notice that April and her mindless minions keep eyeing me with smug expressions. Some of them even titter right into their palms. Probably because my cheeks are still agitated from the alkaline metals. And because I scowl at them, which does nothing but prove to them that their little prank got to me.
"Just say the word," Ginger mutters under her breath. "And zap she goes."
I sigh and pick up my pace, wanting nothing more than to get out of this goddamn school—strike that—this goddamn town.
