I daydreamed about Brendan. I longed to know what it felt like to have one person eclipse everything bad in your lifeâbe a place of pure joy.
âWhy canât I get you out of my head?â I whispered to myself. âI wish I just knew what your deal was.â
I leaned against a lamppost, trying to steady my breath and my thoughts. The light above me flickered, catching my attention. I looked straight up into the light. It burned very brightly for a momentâas if it were on a dimmer switch that was suddenly put on full blast. I heard a crackling noise, and nervously stepped away from the lamppostâjust as the light inside burst, shards of glass clinking against the frosted glass caseâ¦.
âSpellbound by Cara Lynn Shultz is my kind of enchanted read. Magic ingredients for teen read perfection: a spunky Buffy-licious witch, a good dose of mayhem, and Brendan! Whenâs the next one?â
âNancy Holder, New York Times bestselling author of Crusade and the Wicked series
âWith its magic ingredients of witty banter, a BFF-worthy heroine, Hot Boys and a super-spooky mystery, Spellbound held me in its thrall from beginning to end!â
âRachel Hawkins, author of the Hex Hall series
âSpellbound by Cara Shultz is a rapturous story that adeptly marries the classic fairy tale with the modern experience of the Facebook world. Shultzâs debut novel has the potential to do for witches what Stephenie Meyer did for vampires with her Twilight Saga series.â
âTrent Vanegas, Pink Is the New Blog
Itâs always embarrassing to have someone take you to school. Your dad, your mom, anyone with her hair in rollers.
But for my first day as a junior at my new schoolâa ridiculously expensive private school on New Yorkâs Upper East SideâI was being walked to school by my baby cousin. A freshman.
It really wasnât that terrible. Even though we grew up apart, Ashley and I were email buddies. She was a sweetheart, there was no doubt of that, but if my knowledge of the inner workings of my familiar old New Jersey public school, Keansburg High, meant anything, I knew that juniors did not hang out with the lower classes. It was like hanging out with a bunch of vegetarians and wearing a bacon necklace.
Talk about unwelcome.
But it was important to my aunt Christine that I got to school early and she was afraid Iâd get lost. My great-aunt had taken me in over the summer, and Iâd learned quickly that when she got an idea into her head, you were better off just going along with it. I didnât want to argue with herâI owed her everything. My life, really. Sheâd been asking me to live with her ever since my mom died a year and a half ago, leaving me with Henry, my stepfather whose blood-alcohol content hovered somewhere between âwastedâ and âhow is he even alive?â But after he nearly killed me last June with his particular style of driving (i.e., blasted), I stopped resisting Christineâs offer.
Going from my auntâs place at Park and Sixty-eighth Street to the school at Park and Eighty-sixth Street is fairly basic: walk eighteen blocks left. But since she had been pretty cool about everythingâstepping in, giving me a place to stay and leaving me with a âYouâll talk to me if you need toâ instead of hovering over meâI didnât press it.
Ashley was a bundle of excitement as soon as she stepped inside the door of Christineâs three-bedroom co-op, her pink cheeks flushed, red curls pushed back by a black-ribbon headband. Sheâs several inches shorter than meâI wouldnât put her past five feet. And thatâs giving a generous allowance to her curls.
âHi Emma! Yay, first day! Are you excited? Do you like your uniform?â I smiled back. Her joy was infectious. You couldnât help but like Ashleyâthe girl never said a mean thing in all of her fourteen years. Then a black thought crept its way in: What if no one did like Ashley, and that was why she was so happy to have an ally? What kind of evil place was Vincent Academy, where someone could dislike a sweet little munchkin like Ashley? Calm down, Emma, youâre going to give yourself a panic attack.
My smile got weaker, and I smoothed out my long-sleeved white Oxford shirt and black, blue and green Scotch plaid skirt that mirrored her outfit.
âYou tell me, how do I look?â I asked her.
âYou look fine,â she chirped. âBut why the long sleeves? Itâs soooo hot out. Itâs going to be like, seventy billion degrees today! Donât you have any short sleeââ
Ashley looked at the ground and blushed, her red cheeks now matching her flame-colored hair.
âSorry, I forgot about the scar.â