Descendants [H.S. & C.S.]

Chapter 11

Harry whisked together the ingredients for the love spell in the kitchen of the school.

His three friends hung out sound him.

"You want a treat, Dude?" Justin said. He pulled a snack out of the fridge and walked it over to the rust-colored pooch, who sat in a bowl on the stove top.

"Okay," Harry said to himself as he referenced the spell book.

Calum scampered over, carrying a bowl of walnuts. Harry incanted, stirring the contents of the large metal bowl. "Crush his heart with an iron glove by making him a slave to love," he said. Then he turned to Calum. "Um, all right. It says that we still need one tear." Harry pouted and said. "I never cry."

"Let's just chop up some onions," said Justin, holding up an onion.

"No!" said Harry. "It says we need one tear of human sadness, so we have to follow it exactly."

"A tear's a tear," said Michael.

"That's not true, Michael," said Calum. "They both have antibodies and enzymes, but an emotional tear has more protein-based hormones than a reflex tear."

Harry grinned. "Listen to you," she said.

Calum beamed.

"Yeah, I knew that." said Michael.

"Did not," said Justin, tapping his arm.

"Yeah, I did," said Michael.

The kitchen door opened. Camila appeared in bright pink floral pajamas.

"There you are, Harry!" said Camila, walking toward him.

Harry hid the spell book under a kitchen towel.

"I was looking for you! You know, all the girls want you to do their hair!" She looked from Harry to Calum to Justin to Michael. Then she looked at the bowl in front of Harry. "Midnight snack, huh? Whatcha guys making?"

"Nothing special," said Harry. "Just cookies."

Camila swiped a taste of dough from the bowl.

"No! Wait!" Harry and his friends shouted in unison.

Camila licked her finger with gusto.

Everyone stared at her.

Camila looked from person to person. "What? I'm not going to double dip."

"Feel anything?" asked Calum.

"Yeah, like it's missing something?" said Harry, studying her.

Michael tossed his hair and gave Camila his most dashing smile, planting himself in front of her. "Hey, there."

Camila gave him a blank stare. "Could use some chips," she said, heading over to the refrigerator and opening the door.

Michael looked stung.

"And those are . . . ?" asked Harry.

"Chocolate chips. Just the most important food group." Camila set a bowl of chocolate down on a table. She noticed their blank stares and said, "Wait. Didn't your moms ever make you guys chocolate chip cookies? Like when you're feeling sad, and they're fresh from the oven with a big old glass of milk and she makes you laugh and puts everything into perspective and . . ." Her voice trailed off.

Harry and his friends stared at Camila as if she were speaking another language.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?" Camila asked them.