You’re just going to get into the house and hope the magic worked.

You realize things might go easier if Tracey lets you in. You’re not sure that the spell will work properly if her mom doesn’t let you in and never sees you. You stop a couple of houses down on the street to pull out your phone and call Tracey’s number. It goes straight to voicemail. Her mom must have taken her phone to keep her from contacting you.

You leave your bike in some bushes and walk to Tracey’s house. It’s still well before six a.m., and you hope her mom isn’t awake yet, you walk around the house trying to see if you can identify which window is her bedroom. Unfortunately, that isn’t as easy as it sounds. All the upstairs windows look the same from the outside. You can’t just toss pebbles at all of them, hoping you’ll wake Tracey before her mom.

As you’re walking around the house, you remember the bathroom Tracey passed her mom’s hair to you from. Maybe she didn’t latch the window after. You could try to climb in. If Tracey’s mom catches you and the spell didn’t work, she’s certain to have you arrested for trespassing, and breaking and entering. If the spell did work, and she doesn’t open the door and see you, and preferably touch you, she might go as crazy as Tracey will.

You don’t see any better option than taking the risk and trying to get in the house. You creep up to the bathroom window and try pushing it open. It slides up. You struggle to pull yourself up and through the window. Damn, maybe Abbie’s right — you could stand to work out and get a little more muscle. You manage to clamber head-first through the small window and end up on the bathroom floor, panting from the effort. You wait there a moment or two, getting your breathing back as close to normal as you can.

Then you get to your feet and walk out of the bathroom, trying to move quietly. You hope Tracey’s mom is a sound sleeper, and she doesn’t have a gun. You move towards the front of the house, looking for the stairs. You’d like to find Tracey first and have her wake her mom. You think that would be less of a shock and safer for everyone. Unfortunately, as you turn the corner into the living room, you see a tall blonde woman in satin pajamas.

The woman must be Tracey’s mother. She startles when she sees you. There’s a look of fear and confusion on her face. “I’m calling 911.” She shouts, as she raises the cellphone in her hand.

“No! Wait! Don’t do that, Mrs. Barnes.” You blurt out, managing to remember Tracey’s last name.

She pauses, her finger inches from tapping the screen of her phone. She glares at you with an intense expression in her eyes. Her chest heaves as she takes in a deep breath. “It’s Ms. Erikson.” She says icily. “Barnes was my ex-husband’s name. I don’t use it.” Her eyes narrow. “I assume you’re Dave H.” Now that you know she isn’t armed, and she isn’t immediately calling the cops, you relax just enough to notice her looks. She resembles an older version of Tracey, with a beautiful face and a body that she’s kept fit. You realize that you’re kind of a shallow dick as you think it, but you’re relieved that she looks so good, in case you did successfully enchant her.

You nod. “Yes. Dave Harris. I’m… Tracey’s boyfriend. I can explain everything.”