Page 132 of How to Flirt with a Witch

“Yeah.” My eyes prickle and a lump rises in my throat. I blink, forcing the tears to stay down.

We stare at each other through the video call, two heartbroken, teary-eyed girls, and homesickness wells inside me worse than ever.

“Man, this would be a really good weekend for cookies and binge-watching,” I say with an attempted laugh. But it comes out hollow. It stings that we can’t spend time together when we both desperately need it.

“I know.” Hazel sighs. “What are you going to do during reading week?”

Ugh, that’s next week already. And I’m going to spend it totally alone.

I shrug.

Hazel chews her lip, then grabs her mouse, her eyes narrowing in determination. “I’m booking a flight.”

“What? Where?”

She laughs. “To you, dork. I’ll come for reading week.”

My heart jumps. “You don’t have to! I can come there.”

“No, I want to come to Vancouver. It’ll be fun. I loved visiting over Christmas, and you can show me the stuff we missed out on during the last visit.”

Lightness tingles through my head at the prospect of not spending the break alone. I can’t think of a better way to pass the time than with my bestie, getting over our breakups together, and laughing and being ridiculous like normal.

“That would be really, really nice,” I admit, and the tension in my face eases as I smile for the first time in two weeks.

As reading week begins, I bus to the airport to meet Hazel, my heart lighter in anticipation of seeing her. This week will be a much-needed reminder of who I was before all this business about curses and witches—a reminder that I have people who accept me as I am, who don’t need me to prove myself as a prerequisite. And really, there’s nothing like a big dose of unconditional love to help a girl get over a breakup.

As Hazel bounds toward me in Arrivals, we crash together in a jumping hug. The familiar scent of her shampoo hits me, and for a moment, I feel like I’m back home.

“I know just where to go to get cookies the size of our faces,” I announce, grabbing her carry-on bag.

We get cookies, visit Chinatown to keep eating, then hit up a craft brewery—a perfect, normal evening with my perfectly normal best friend. The next morning, we continue the tour, first heading to the Harbour Centre to ride the glass elevator and look over the city. I’m lighter than I’ve been in weeks—and while my ankle is still mangled andI’m generous with the painkillers, I no longer need a crutch, freeing us to walk unimpeded.

“Damn, look at that view,” Hazel says, pulling out her phone. It’s sunny for once, the world around us bright and blue. She raises her phone—and pauses, squinting at a message she’s received. She reads it, her lips parting, and turns to me with a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got good news.”

“What?!” I cry so dramatically that the nearest people turn. I cover my mouth.

Hazel looks ready to burst, a smile lifting her cheeks. “I accepted a co-op job offer with a renewable energy company.”

I gasp. “Yes! That’s amazing!”

“And,” she says with the air of someone about to drop a bombshell. “It’s in Vancouver.”

My jaw unhinges. “Like… you’ll be moving here for four months?”

She nods, grinning.

I scream and throw my arms around her. “Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She waves her phone. “I wanted to wait until it was confirmed.”

I scream some more and wrestle her into a tighter hug, earning more stares.

She laughs and hugs me back. “I’m nervous. It was brave of you, moving away from home. You’ll have to show me how to survive here.”

I scoff. “You’ll be the one showing me! You fit in everywhere. I’ve done a terrible job adjusting and haven’t stopped being homesick.”

Hazel tilts her head, studying me. “Katie, you’ve adjusted fine. You’ve made friends, you know where to go for the best food, you have a favorite grocery store, a walking loop, a hairdresser… Stop denying it. You’ve sprouted roots.”