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Wallace, to wet himself and run out of the classroom in mortification. But as she watched him escape through the door, clutching his bag to his front, she saw tears in his eyes, and it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all.

Another sleepover was arranged for that Saturday night, this time in Jenny’s house. But no junk food or DVDs were brought along, and Una hadn’t been invited. One by one, the four girls climbed silently up the ladder to Jenny’s attic bedroom, settling in a circle on the floor, where Grace placed the open notebook.
    Tua omnis voluntas et ordinem. Your wish is my command.
    They all stared at the words scrawled below Grace’s neat blue handwriting. Her orderly script listed all the spells they had tried since beginning their adventure in witchcraft.
    â€œOf all the pages it could have written on,” said Jenny, “it wrote on that one.”
    â€œIt can’t have been an accident,” said Adie. “The pages were fluttering back and forth, all of them. It landed on that one because it was looking for that one.”
    â€œNow it’s making that list of spells happen,” Rachel said, pulling Jenny’s bedspread around her shoulders.
    â€œWhy did we think that spell on Andrew would be funny?” Grace said quietly.
    â€œI know,” replied Jenny. “Did you see his face? That was awful. He’ll never live that down.”
    â€œIt was so mean,” Adie agreed.
    â€œSo how long is this going to go on for?” asked Rachel. “I mean, are all the spells going to happen? And what then? Will Una go back to normal?”
    Shielding Una from Tracy was exhausting, and the girls were glad for the break from her odd conversation and unblinking stares. Besides, they figured she was perfectly safe at home for the weekend. Unless, of course, her family had her certified for saying please and thank you all the time.
    â€œI don’t know,” replied Grace. “If it’s done the most recent spell first, maybe it’s working backward—the love spell, and then the pee spell—what’s next?”
    She twisted the notebook around to read it instead of waiting for an answer.
    â€œSnow. It’s the snow spell next.”
    â€œWell, that’s not so bad,” said Rachel. “What then?”
    Grace froze, staring at the page, and her chin began to tremble.
    â€œWhat is it? What’s the next spell?” asked Adie.
    â€œIt’s not the next spell I’m worried about,” Grace whispered after a long pause. “It’s what’s at the top of the list—the very first spell we tried.”
    She picked up the notebook and held it out for someone to take.
    â€œThe first spell,” she said, her hand shaking. “Our first spell.”
    Nobody took the notebook. They didn’t need to read it. They all remembered what the first spell was.
    â€œBut we didn’t mean that,” cried Jenny. “Una was angry. She didn’t mean it. We didn’t mean it! ”
    â€œDoes it count?” Rachel asked, beginning to panic. “I mean, we’d only started. We didn’t really know how to cast spells then. It was just a…it was just a trial. We didn’t mean for it to work!”
    â€œWe followed the instructions in the book,” Grace said. “It was done just like all the others.”
    She laid the notebook back on the floor, and all eyes went reluctantly to the top of the page.
    Spell number one: Make Tracy Murphy get hit by a bus.
    ***
    Later that night, Grace turned over in her sleeping bag and let her mind drift back to how it all started.
    It had been just over two months before, when Jenny had arrived at Rachel’s house with a black eye. Witchcraft was a brand-new idea to the girls, and they were having a meeting to cast their first spell. Jenny had brought the enormous leather-bound spell book, as promised, but all Grace could see was the shiny welt on