Bree waved her hand. "Well, if that stuff was happening to me, I might be a little weirded out, too. But I have to tell you—listening to you talk about it, it seems like you might be kind of overreacting," she said gently. "I mean, you might have heard your mom mention the hymn numbers. We already talked about that. Then the phone call—Ms. Fiorello calls your mom all the time, right? God, she's called every time I've been at your house! I can't explain seeing the animals— except maybe your subconscious picked up the scent of all the vet stuff somehow. And the other things—maybe it's just a bunch of weird coincidences all at the same time, so it adds up and freaks you out But I don't think you're going crazy." She grinned. "At least not yet."

I felt a little reassured.

"It's just that it's all at once," I explained, "and this whole Wicca thing. Have you been reading about it?"

"Uh-huh. So far I like it. It's all about women," Bree said, and laughed. "No wonder Cal is into it."

I smiled wryly. "Too bad for Justin Bartlett."

"Oh, Justin's dating someone from Seven Oaks," Bree said dismissively. "He can't hog Cal, too. Hey, remember all those Books of Shadows we saw at Practical Magick?"

"Uh-huh," I said.

"They're for witches," Bree said cheerfully. "Witches write down things in their Books of Shadows. Like a diary. They keep notes of spells and stuff they try. Isn't that cool?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Do you think local witches go there to buy them?"

"Sure," said Bree.

I drank the coffee, hoping it wouldn't keep me up. "Do you think Cal keeps a Book of Shadows?" I asked. "With notes about our circles?" I was leading up to telling Bree about my feelings for Cal, but I was self-conscious. This was bigger and harder to explain than any shallow crush I'd ever had. And even though Bree had named it so casually in Practical Magick, she didn't know how much I liked Cal, how deep my feelings were.

"Ooh, I bet he does," Bree said with interest. "I'd love to see it. I can't wait for our next circle—I already know what I'm going to wear."

I laughed. "And how does Chris feel about this?"

Bree looked solemn for a moment. "It doesn't really matter. I'm going to break up with him."

"Really? That's too bad. You guys had so much fun over the summer." I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach and shifted back in the beanbag chair.

"Yeah, but number one, he's started being a jerk, bossing me around. I mean, screw that."

I nodded in agreement. "Number two?"

"He hates all this Wicca stuff, and I think it's cool. If he isn't going to be supportive of my interests, then who needs him?"

"Too true," I said, looking forward to having her around to hang out with more often, at least until she found his replacement.

"And number three…" she said, twining her short hair around one finger.

"What?" I smiled and drained the last of my coffee.

"I'm totally and completely crazy about Cal Blaire," Bree announced.

For several long moments I sat there, encased by the beanbag. My face was frozen, and so was the breath in my lungs. So much for being the Amazing Kreskin. Why hadn't I seen this coming?

Slowly, slowly, I released my breath. Slowly I drew it in again. "Cal?" I asked, trying to sound calm. "Is that why you want to break up with Chris?"

"No, I told you—Chris is being as ass. I'd break up with him anyway," Bree said, her dark eyes shining in her beautiful face.

Inside my brain, nerve impulses were misfiring frantically, but a new thought managed to formulate. "Is that why you like Wicca?" I asked. "Because of Cal?"

"No, not really," Bree said thoughtfully, looking up at the paisly fabric on her bed's canopy. "I think i'd like Wicca even without Cal. But I'm just—falling for him in a big way. I want to be with him. And if we have this huge thing in common…"

She shrugged. "Maybe it'll help us get together."

I opened my mouth, fearing that a thousand mean, angry, jealous, awful words were about to fly out. I shut it with a snap. So many pained thoughts were swirling in my head that I didn't know where to start. Was I hurt? Angry? Spiteful? This was Bree. My best firiend for parcatically my whole life. We had both hated boys in fourth grade. We had both gotten our periods in sixth grade. We'd both had crushes to eternal secrecy in ninth.

And now Bree was telling me she was crazy about the only guy I'd ever felt serious about. The only guy I'd ever wanted, even if I knew I couldn't have him.

I should have predicted it. My own feelings had blinded me. Cal is unmistakably gorgeous, and Bree falls in love easily. Obviously Bree would be attracted to him. Obviously Chris would be no competition for a guy like Cal.

Bree was so perfect. So was Cal. They would be awesome together. I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Hmmm," I murmured, my mind racing hysterically. I tried to take a sip from my empty mug. Cal and Bree. Cal and Bree.

"You don't approve?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"Approve, disapprove, what does it matter?" I said, trying to hold my face in some normal position. "It just seems like he's gone out with a couple of different people already. And I think Raven's trying to get her claws into him, too. I don't want you to get hurt," I heard myself babbling.

Bree smiled at me. "Don't worry about me. I think I can handle him. In fact, I want to handle him," she joked."AII over'

The forced smile froze on my face. "Well, good luck."

"Thanks," Bree said. "I'll let you know what happens."

"Uh-huh. Um, thanks for listening to me," I said, getting to my feet. "I better get home. See you tomorrow."

I walked out of Bree's room, her house, stiffly and carefully, as if I were trying not to jostle a wound.

I started Das Boot's engine, then realized that chilly tears were sliding down my cheeks. Bree and Cal! Oh God. I would never, ever be with him, and she would. It was a physical pain inside my chest and I cried all the way home.

Am I losing my mind? I'm changing, changing inside. My mind is expanded. I'm seeing in color now instead of black and white. My universe is moving outward at the speed of light. I'm scared.

The next day I woke early after thrashing unhappily all night. I'd had horribly vivid, realistic dreams, mostly featuring Cal—and Bree. I had kicked off my covers and was freezing now, so I grabbed them and burrowed under again, scared to go hack to sleep.

Lying in bed, I watched my windows as they gradually grew lighter. I almost never saw this time of morning, and my parents were right: There was something magical about it. By six-thirty my parents were up. It was comforting to hear them moving in the kitchen, making coffee, shaking cereal into bowls. At seven Mary K. was in the shower.

I lay on my side and thought about things. Common sense told me Bree had much more of a chance with Cal than I did. I had no chance. I wasn't in Cal's league, and Bree was. Did I want Bree to be happy? Could I sort of live vicariously through Bree if she went out with Cal?

I groaned. How sick is that? I asked myself.

Was I ok with Bree and Cal going out? No. I would rather eat rats. But if I wasn't okay with it and they did get together (and there was no reason to assume they wouldn't), then it would mean losing Bree's friendship. And probably looking pretty stupid.

By the time my alarm went off for school, I had decided to perform the supreme sacrifice and never let Bree know how I felt about Cal, no matter what happened.