Her shoulders relaxed, and she started following me toward the edge of the lake without taking my hand. I wiped a sweaty palm down my shirt, needing something to do to cut the awkwardness.
Why were my palms sweaty? Why had I put my hand out like that?
That was a weird move.
I shouldn’t be offering to take campers by the hand and lead them off to a private prayer lesson.
But it was my job to help new campers fit in. I was being chivalrous and helpful. Or I’d clearly watchedA Knight’s Taleone too many times.
We wandered away from the light of the bonfire and the watchful eyes of the rest of the camp, and Gwen let out a long sigh when we melted into the shadows.
“I’m never going to catch up to all of this,” she grumbled. “I was on board with the camp chants. I even knew a couple of them from some of the movies I watched as a kid. But then you all started doing protection spells. Like, what? One second, this is normal summer camp, and the next, you’re casting luck magic to defeat a rival werewolf camp like it’s no big deal.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I said. “It’s like eighty percent summer-camp team building and twenty percent witchy stuff.”
She eyed me with a frown. “Why do I have a feeling you’re padding out those percentages to make me feel better?”
My laugh was light and easy. “I’m not. I promise.”
“I think I should go.” She groaned. “I needed a How to Witch 101 course before coming here. I can’t believe my mom just sprang this on me and then dumped me here like I should just know how to be a witch when she never taught me anything.”
“I can teach you!” I offered a little too enthusiastically. I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. I’d never been a particularly suave person, but Gwen made me extra jittery. “I mean . . .” I cleared my throat. “I’ll teach you how to do this if you teach me how to be a city slicker like you one day. Fair?”
“First, never saycity slickeragain,” she said with a teasing laugh. Her bottom lip pulled to the side as she silently debated. “There’s nothing I could tell you that you couldn’t figure out for yourself. It’s not the same as you teaching me the basics of witchcraft.”
“Still, I’d appreciate the help,” I offered. “And the excuse to talk to someone who isn’t from Maple Hollow. I can’t tell anyone else about wanting to leave. They’d look at me like I’d sprouted a second head. I’m the only one in my year who wants something different for myself.”
“No one ever leaves?”
I shook my head as I walked to the very edge of the lake, my sneakers slipping into the wet sand.
“It really is a cult,” she mused.
“People leave, especially to other covens, but to flat-out leave a paranormal epicenter is kind of unusual. Magic users are ostracized and persecuted in the wider world. The coven doesn’t understand why anyone would want to live outside a supernatural safe haven.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Gwen hedged, staring up at the moon.
“But people do go sometimes,” I added. “Actually, my favorite camp counselor from three years ago left. I always looked up to her. She’s an artist in New York City now, has a loft in SoHo, so cool. She’s living the dream.”
“She must be a very good artist if she can afford to live in the city.” Gwen huffed. “But I accept your offer. I could probably ask Faith to help me, but she’s new to this coven, too, and everyone else looks at me like I stepped in dog shit, so . . .”
“It’ll go away as the summer goes on,” I reassured her. “Especially once we start preparing to take on the other camps. Nothing like a common enemy, eh? If you can help them win, then you’ll be a camp hero. That’s the way to their hearts. Show them your skills.”
She frowned at the sky, and I had no idea why, but it really made me want to kiss her until she was smiling. “What skills?”
“I don’t know. What’s your magical affinity?”
“My magical what?”
“What can you do with your magic?” I asked. “I am attuned to the healing arts—balms, elixirs. My older sister works in an apothecary. It runs in our family. What about you?”
“I—uh . . .” She looked down at a minnow swimming by her feet, and all of a sudden, a frog exploded from the water.
“Transformation,” I said with an approving nod. “Nice. That’s quite a powerful form of magic. Most witches will never achieve it.”
“So far, it’s only amphibians,” she muttered. “Are you going to change him back?”
“I won’t deplete my magic chasing a frog through the lake,” I said gently. “Let the minnow be a frog until the spell wears off.”
