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Chapter 2 by TheCanadian TheCanadian

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Nothing seems to happen, but Denise’s mom calls to say she’ll be home.

After you read the words, nothing happened.

"Was that it?" Denise asked.

“Apparently,” I shrug. “Something was supposed to happen to the clothing."

"Well, another dud,” Denise said. “We’ll have to stay in school for another week at least. No making gold from the air or taking over the world today.” You both laugh, but then Denise cell rings. She holds up a finger to her lips, telling you to be quiet.

“Mom! Hi.” Denise rolls her eyes. “Nope! Nothing.” She bites her lip, and for a second you wonder if she’s performing for you. “Yeah, we can do that--I just thought you were going to be gone all day.” Her eyes pop open. “Five minutes!?”

Denise silently mouthed ‘OUT’ to me.

“No, that’s no problem! I’ll be ready for you. See you soon!” She hung up and grabbed me. “I’m grounded, Adam. I wasn’t going to say anything because I thought she was gone for the day, but if she catches you in here I’m doomed!”

“S-sorry!” I said, stumbling as she pulled me.

“No,” she stopped suddenly, looking at me and smiling. “It’s not you at all.” That smile was weird. It was like it wasn’t the same Denise I knew. “Listen, Adam--we’re, like...friends, right?”

“Yeah!” I say enthusiastically, like she’s crazy for suggesting otherwise.

“I’m grounded for a month, Adam. Friends only--here only. Unless I just wanna go out to dinner or something. It’s like house arrest.”

“Sorry about that. What did you do?”

“No time now--but I owe you a story. Anyway, the point is this.” Denise got serious now. “I’m going to make the argument that you’re just another friend, you’re going to have your mom talk to my mom, and we’re going to find a way to get me to a rave tomorrow night under the pretenses of going to your house.”

“Yeah--what?” I laughed. “You’re crazy. How are we going to pull this off?”

“Because, Adam--as far as our parents know, we’re just close friends. Right?” That smile again, and this time she leaned in as we were at the threshold of her door.

“As far as...our parents know?” I ask, stupefied.

“We’ve got some stuff to talk about,” She laughed. “But get the fuck out of here before I’m not even allowed to see friends.”

I nodded, and she playfully hip-checked me as I went out the door. I snickered and looked back at her, waving. This was big. This was huge. It all seemed kind of ambiguous before, but that was flirting. Real flirting.

A part of me wished that I had what she wanted--a spellbook. A real magical artifact. She called herself a skeptic, but that was because she wanted--demanded--a high standard of proof. She was interested in searching for magic as far back as I could remember, always talking about mystics and cultures that followed esoteric ideas.

I figured that if I ever found her something that was actually magical...it would have to put me a couple of steps ahead.

I didn't know it at the time, but the spell did do something to the clothes. They were very much alive, but they were sitting still, waiting for the right catalyst...

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