And I tried to. I really did. But as the week progressed, she kept finding me. In the hallways, out at lunch, even in the girl’s toilets! She also kept coming by the Wicca shop, claiming she was just ‘looking around’. I couldn’t take it anymore. I cornered and confronted her.

“What’s your deal with me? You’re always around wherever I look. I can’t blink without seeing you.”

“I … I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m a little low on friends right now. I thought you and I were, kind of, getting along well. After all, I know your brother.”

“Yeah, about that. He says he’s never met anyone with that name. So you better start telling me the truth, or else …”

My threat was empty but she didn’t have to know that.

“My name is Jessica,” she offered lamely.

“Duh, I know that already,” I said and slapped my forehead.

“It’s Jessica Sampson,” she whispered. “I’m a witch, too. Oh, and by the way, the correct amount isn’t four candles for the séance. It’s any number divisible by three.”

Sampson, like Westmore, is an old witch surname that is passed down. My uncle (the one who’s married to Aunt Debra) is a Sampson. I wondered if she was related to him. She kind of looked like him, too. I inhaled and tried to pick up her magical aura. Witches can do that, to tell how strong another witch is. She had none. I assumed she had a protection spell on her, so other witches couldn’t sense her powers. But why?

“So why all the secrets?” I asked. “Time for the truth.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jessica said. “I was just waiting for the right time to tell. You can’t just go up to someone and say, ‘Hey, I’m a witch. Would you like to hang out and practise magic some time?’ Anyway, I’m in a bit of a pickle. My family’s on the run from something. Can’t really get into details right now.”

***

Tell us: Did you expect this plot twist?