The Book of Spells (Private 0.50)

“As I was saying,” Noelle said as we stepped out into the hallway, “I think we should talk about throwing you the most kick-ass seventeenth birthday party in the history of birthdays. You’re a Lange now. I’d say you’re well overdue.”

Instantly, my shoulder muscles coiled.

“I’m not a Lange.”

I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice, but it didn’t entirely

work. The thing was, I barely even knew Noelle’s dad, and I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. But I was certain that I didn’t feel like part of their family. I was a Brennan, and I always would be.

Noelle rolled her eyes again as she started to close the door behind us. “Whatever.”

“Actually, Noelle, I wanted to talk to you about that. . . . Can we keep this whole sisters thing between us for now? If that’s okay with you,” I added quickly.

She froze with her hand on the doorknob. “Why?”

“I just . . . I don’t want to deal with all the questions and explanations and everything until I’m a little more used to it,” I said.

“Wow. I’d think you’d be kinda psyched to be my sister,” Noelle said. Only she would have a big enough ego to say something like that without a hint or irony or self-deprecation.

“It’s not that,” I told her. “It’s just . . . it’s kind of humiliating, you know? I’m going to have to tell everyone that my mom cheated on my dad with your dad.” I looked at my water-stained leather boots, mottled after days of tromping around campus in the snow and sleet. “There’s no getting around that.”

Noelle’s expression utterly changed. It was pretty clear she’d never thought of the whole thing from my perspective before. “Yeah. Okay. I get it.” She closed the door with a bang. “But you still deserve a party.”

She had me there. After faking her kidnapping, scaring me to death, and making me jump through multiple hoops to find her over the past couple of weeks, I’d say I deserved whatever good things she wanted to throw my way. A party might be just what the psychoanalyst ordered after everything I’d recently been through.

Her eyes flicked over me as if she was noticing my outfit for the first time, and did not approve. “Where’s your coat?” she asked.

I glanced down at my jeans. “Oh. I guess I forgot it.”

She shook her head, walked back inside, and came out two seconds later with a wool camel-colored trench. “See? You should definitely be psyched to have me as a big sister. I’m already taking care of you.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile, slipping my arms into the sleeves. She’d always taken care of me, and we both knew it. Until that last little escapade of hers, anyway.

She closed the door, took in a big breath, and blew it out. “Okay. Let’s start with location and date. I’m thinking the city, on your actual birthday. Unless you’ve got some better plans back in Bumblefart, Pennsylvania.”

I tried not to bristle at her insult of my hometown. I’d gotten used to it over the past couple of years, but somehow, now that she was of the opinion that I’d never belonged there, what with the Lange blood in my veins, it felt more personal. I might not have loved my hometown of Croton, Pennsylvania, but it was my home. And I did love my family, including my father, who would always be my dad, no matter what.

“No,” I said. “No plans. I think a party in New York would be perfect.”

“Good. I’m so on it.”

As we walked down the hallway toward the stairwell, I felt the weight of the book knocking against my hip over and over again, and I itched to steal back to my room and open it up—check out those notes Elizabeth Williams had written in the margins, see if I recognized any of the other handwriting. Maybe I’d have a chance to do it later, when Noelle wasn’t around. Because even though I didn’t believe in spells, I was sure she would tell me I was ridiculous for caring about these girls who had lived almost a hundred years ago.

But I did. And I was dying to know more about them.

“So you bailed from school for two weeks so you could go to some spa in Sedona?” Portia Ahronian said, lifting her fur-lined hood over her head as we walked toward the chapel after breakfast. She tucked her thick black hair inside the hood, untangling some strands that had gotten caught up in one of her many gold necklaces. “What about all your homework? And your tests?”

“Hathaway had them e-mailed to me,” Noelle lied casually, lifting a shoulder. “Perks of your dad helping the headmaster land his job.”

“And why, exactly, did you have to scare the bejesus out of us the night you left?” Astrid Chou asked, popping some contraband cereal from her hand into her mouth. She dusted the sugar from her hands, then slipped on her colorful knit gloves, which she had attached to the sleeves of her purple coat with kiddie-style glove savers, an accessory only quirky Astrid could get away with on an upscale campus like Easton. “I honestly think Amberly almost had a coronary, and as the only one among us who knows CPR, I was not about to go there.”

“Hey!” Amberly protested, her pert pink lips twisted into a pout. “You wouldn’t save my life?”

Astrid shook her black bangs off her face. “Maybe. But only if you promised me that red Chloé bag of yours.”

My friends laughed and I could tell none of them were really still angry with Noelle for the prank she’s pulled on the night of her “disappearance.” Everyone was just glad to have her back, safe and sound. Of course I hadn’t had a chance to tell her that I’d told Ivy Slade she was actually at home with her mom, but that was a flub that could easily be glossed over if Ivy started asking questions.

“Sorry about that, guys,” Noelle said, returning to the subject as our feet crunched over the salted stone walk. “I was just messing with Reed. I owed her one, and you guys just got stuck in the middle. But I promise. No more drama for the rest of the semester.”