Page 8 of Witchy Woman

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Ever so charming. Now put a smile on, we have a customer.”

Chapter 3

First Lesson

Seven comes too quickly. I’m almost crawling out of my skin.

I want to learn magic, of course I do. But that first step is always the hardest and there’s something life-altering about this. I know I won’t be the same person—for better or worse—once I fully embrace my witchiness. I’m on the precipice of something important and I’m terrified I’ll fall.

It makes me itchy. Irritated. Like I’ll snap if someone looks at me wrong.

Grandma has spent the last hour outside preparing everything and I swear I can hear her talking to the ground. Which, logically, isn’t that far outside the realm of possibility, since she’s an Earth witch.

But still.

“Ready?” Hazel asks, as she comes up beside me.

She’s so different now that she’s found Noah and isn’t living under the constant cloud of our mother. Confident, happy, unburdened. It’s hard not to take on the responsibility of knowing that she would’ve always been this way if not for me and Mom. Or maybe that’s the regular-sex glow.

“Is Noah coming over tonight?” I ask instead of answering. He stays over at least a few times a week now that they made up a month ago. It’s absolutely super adorable.

It’s also strange.

We haven’t had a man in the house since Dad. Emotion sticks in my throat like a thick wad of peanut butter whenever I think about it.

She nods. “Mhmm. He’ll be over after our lesson. Is it okay that he comes over so often?”

I side-eye her. “You’re expecting me to tell you not to see your soulmate regularly? To ban him from the house for no reason?”

Her hands fly up to grasp mine. “Of course not. But your comfort means a lot to me.”

“Luckily I’m fine.” I pull away. “Let’s do this thing.”

I turn from her guilt-ridden gaze and open the back doors. Dad fenced in the backyard when Hazel and I were kids to stop us from running off to God knows where. Now it’s all lit up. Twinkle lights drape across the posts and create a small area with Grandma at the center.

There’s a purple picnic blanket and three pillows where she stands. The flower garden twists and flourishes more than I’ve ever seen—especially in the winter—and the trees cast a bigger shadow.

It’s freezing, but Grandma has lit a fire in the fire pit with what smells like a variety of herbs, creating a hazy, smoky glow.

It’s beautiful.

“Wow, Grandma!” Hazel says, going down the back porch steps. “This is everything.”

“If you pull out a muumuu for me to wear, I’m leaving.” I step down as well, walking toward the pillows. Even with the blanket underneath them, the cold ground will seep through.

Thank God I wore my fleece-lined leggings.

A roll of Grandma’s eyes is her only reply as she arranges us on the pillows as she likes. With me closest to the fire.

The warmth against my back is comforting, homey. It’s my element. I knew when Hazel explained them for the first time. I just didn’t want to admit it to her for some reason. Maybe because we’re in such a weird place, maybe because I’m a secretive bitch. Either way, I haven’t told either of them—and I have a feeling that’s not going to cut it anymore.

Every witch has one element they connect to, that helps us harness our magic. Hazel told me she knew hers was air because something happened that was out of her control. I think it was a breeze or something.

“Today, we will connect with ourselves and our element. Return to the basics, so we can build from a solid foundation,” Grandma says, her voice carrying across our space. “I am an Earth witch, Hazel is an Air witch. Laura, do you know your element?”

Fucking called it.