What could go wrong?

The scent hits me when I cross the threshold— peppermint tea and faint traces of lemon polish, with an undercurrent of cinnamon. It's the smell of Kaylee's parents' house, unchanged in all the years I've known her. Stepping through the front door feels like stepping back into being a pimply teen.

The carpet is the same brown shag it's always been, worn smooth in a few high-traffic spots. Kaylee's mother was an earth tone fangirl long before all those beige, white and grey minimalist moms flooded tiktok with their interior design clips.

Family photos line the staircase and as I climb up, I can watch the years pass in the snapshots. Gap-toothed smiles to graduation robes to wedding pictures of Kaylee's two older brothers.

Kaylee is leading the way to her room, a spring in her step.

I pause, feeling rude for bypassing the living-room and the kitchen, but if Kaylee's mom Sheila were here, she'd already have offered me a snack or a glass of lemonade. "Where are your mom and dad? Don't tell me you made them go out for this."

"Nope, they had plans. Some dinner thing with their friends. Why'd you think I picked this night?" she says, already on top of the stairs. She glances back, her tone teasing. "Relax, they're not going to catch us using the dark arts. That'd be a grounding for sure."

I roll my eyes, but I feel a distinct pang of wistfulness at the idea of having parental figures in my life.

The hallway upstairs is painted in soft green with scuffs where furniture's been bumped over the years. When we reach Kaylee's room, she pushes the door open and steps inside, flicking on the light. The same pink fairy lights that used to hang over her bed are strung around the window now, casting a warm glow over the space. The rest of the room has been updated since our teenage years—sleek bookshelves in place of posters, a grown-up desk setup—but the bedspread is the same turquoise one she's had forever.

"It's so weird being here again," I say, stepping inside and placing my bag onto the floor. There's a plastic container of pig's blood inside I don't want to slosh everywhere. "We played with Barbies in here."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Kaylee says, sitting down on the bed. "I feel like I'm regressing every time I stay here, mentally if not physically. You should hear the fights I have with my parents, it's pretty bleak."

I laugh nervously, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her and bending down to pick up my bag of ingredients. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

"Eh, it's not that serious. They're just overbearing. Here's to hoping Frankie or Josh finally reproduce to give them some grandkids to fuss over. Besides, don't we have a spell to cast?" Kaylee raises an eyebrow. "I'm honestly curious to see what's going to happen."

I steel myself and nod. "Yep, that's the plan."

"Good." Kaylee watches me expectantly as I pull the notebook out of my bag and flip it open to the page I've marked. 

"Okay, so we're doing Your Wish is My Command again. That's the name of the spell."

"Pretty on the nose," Kaylee comments.

"But something different this time, something really specific. We'll ask for something that could never happen by coincidence." And when it doesn't happen I can lay all of my doubts and fears to rest. This whole magic chapter of my life will be closed for good and filed away. It'll just be me and Derek figuring out our future.

I recite the instructions for Kaylee. The spell still seems just as ridiculous as before—lavender, a candle, and pig's blood— and my best friend scrunches up her face as she listens.

"So, what should we wish for?" I ask. I feel like I have an idea. Now that Kaylee has confessed her recent troubles I'm pretty sure I know what she wants. It's obvious. Another chance in Hollywood, a big break. Why shouldn't we use my stupid situation to maybe get some small boost of luck for her?

But before I can suggest this, Kaylee grins, the mischievous glint in her eye making her look like the teenager I used to stay up all night whispering with. "Okay, I've got an unlikely scenario for us. We're going to wish for a big bag filled with cash. We're both going to picture it just the same. Let's say a red Adidas brand sports bag with a million dollars in small bills. No wait, a million and one dollars."

I laugh despite myself. "Geez, Kay, don't you think that's a little too specific?"

"Hey, you said you wanted something that couldn't happen by coincidence," she says, shrugging. "Don't hate on my creative mind."

I shake my head, but her humor settles my nerves a little. "I mean, a million dollar is not that creative. It's kind of a cliché actually."

"I said a million and one dollar, so I'm clearly a creative genius!"

"Um, so that'll mean if we come across a million dollar in a blue Nike bag, we'll know it wasn't us?"

"Yep, definite proof that your spell does not work."

I shake my head, but I can't help smiling despite everything.

Kaylee sobers a little. "Either way, it's not going to happen, Skye. Dreck is just having an early midlife crisis, you didn't put a curse on him or anything."

"How long are you going to keep calling him that?"

Arms folded behind her head, Kaylee leans back on the bed. "I guess until you actually marry him, then I'll semi-retire it."

"Semi-retire?"

"You guys'll have fights and Dreck will always be at fault, at least from my perspective he will, because you're my best friend. So whenever he pisses you off, I get to call him Dreck. That's what friends are for. That and letting you do nasty pig's blood magic in their home."

I can't be anything but grateful to her, so I quickly bend over my bag, lower my head and make a show of digging around in it so she doesn't see I'm tearing up a little.

Kaylee sits back up and claps her hands together. "Okay, let's see if this thing is the real deal. Let's make some magic happen!"

*

As she lights the candle, I watch the flickering flame and feel that strange mix of anticipation and unease settle over me again. A nervous tingle creeps up my spine. Kaylee and I sit opposite one another on the floor, cross-legged, the ingredients between us. Everything spread out on an old beige tablecloth from Sheila's endless supply.

"Should we hold hands or something?" Kaylee asks me. "This kinda feels like a handholding moment."

"No, we'll have to dip our fingers into the pig's blood during the spell, so..." I trail off as Kaylee wrinkles her nose in disgust.

"Ew. Wow, okay. So let's do this."

We do it.

I go through the ritual with Kaylee, both of us imagining that big bag of money as we blow out the candle and say the magic words. It feels ridiculous, which is exactly what I was hoping for. This is fun, it's a game, it's not some horror movie scenario where we conjure up dark powers we can't control. I'm not a witch. I haven't put Derek under a spell. I was just being stupid.

Everything's going to be alright.