Spell Book & Scandal

Chapter Eighteen

A soundless scream burns in my throat, but I can't force any sound past my—Christina's—lips. I scrub the steam off the mirror, I pinch myself, and I run cold water across my wrists, but the face in the mirror doesn't change. Opening the towel, I glance down at a totally unfamiliar body, and I yank the towel around me again like it can protect me from whatever has just happened.

Soon, everyone will wake up. Will they discover two versions of Christina, or, a horrible thought dawns on me, did Christina and I somehow switch places?

I lean against the wall, the towel bar pressing into my back. What in the world happened? Before I can collect my thoughts, someone pounds on the door.

"Shelby, get out of there. I need to get ready." The words are my sister's, but the voice is mine, like listening to myself on old home movies, and I cringe. Do I really sound that whiny? Suddenly, I'm terrified about what Mom or Dad will say if they find out, and I open the door and pull Christina into the bathroom in one swift motion.

She glares at me. "I don't have time for this. I heard the water turn off ten minutes ago; why are you still in here?"

I gulp, waiting for her eyes to catch up with reality. Christina glares at me, but suddenly her brow puckers, and she leans forward. "Shelby?" she asks uncertainly.

Wordless, I point to our reflections in the mirror. Christina turns her face to the glass and gasps.

"What did you do?"

"What did I do?" I ask incredulously. "How could this be my fault?"

She narrows her eyes, and her—my—nostrils flare. I didn't know they did that. I shake my head, trying to focus on what she's saying. "You've always been jealous," she says, gesturing at the body I'm now wearing. "However you did this, whoever you paid to do this trick, reverse it. Now."

"Look," I say, suddenly angry, "I'm not out to get you, contrary to whatever you may think. I didn't pay somebody to do this, and I'm just as pissed as you. You think I want to walk around like a prissy know it all witch all day?"

"Better than being stuck as a worthless scribe who can't even write a spell to get rid of her own acne!" She gestures angrily to her face.

I narrow my eyes. "At least I'd never stoop so low as using a spell for bigger boobs. You did, didn't you? These are totally bigger than you were last summer," I say, slapping my chest under the towel.

She flushes, but she doesn't deny my accusation. "This isn't funny."

"For once, I agree with you. You're the caster; can't you change us back?"

She rolls her eyes, and I notice how vapid I look when my face does that. I make a mental note never to roll my eyes again if I can help it. "I need a spell, stupid. Magic doesn't come out of thin air."

I bite my lip. She's right. "I could try to write something," I offer, thinking of the luck I've had with spells so far this school year, but she shakes her head emphatically.

"What, and blow us up in the process? No way."

"Look, what else are we supposed to do? I can't go to school like this!"

She nods. "You'd have to get dressed first."

For a moment, we just glare at each other, but then one corner of her mouth quirks up in a smirk, and I start to giggle. Soon, we're both laughing at the absurdity, and for a moment, my heart constricts with a forgotten feeling of warmth. So this is what it's like to have a sister who's also a friend, I think to myself. Feeling awkward, I stop laughing and lower my eyes, and Christina gets quiet.