Page 5 of How to Flirt with a Witch

Hollow silence and the buzz of fluorescent lights replace the comforting hum of people. Alone with Lucy again, I shiver, my jeans damp from the rain, cold sweat prickling beneath my ski jacket.

I place Lucy’s kennel on the metal examination table, the thump filling the room. I sit in a creaky wooden chair, vigilant, scanning for anything that could hurt me. Medical supplies are safely inside jars, cupboards, and drawers.

My gaze snags on the ceiling tile overhead. Is it a little loose?

I shift the chair so I’m not underneath it.

The kennel is eerily silent. I peek in to see Lucy sitting on the fleece blanket, staring at me with that purple glint in her eyes. Her little tail swishes, promising violence if she gets free.

Bouncing my knee, I pull out my phone. It’s 8:44—and the battery is at ten percent.

“No…” I moan. My lifeline to Hazel is slipping away.

Dread turns into irritation. IknowI plugged in my phone last night. But with the luck I’m having, what did I expect?

I message Hazel, feeling less alone knowing she’s expecting an update.

Katie

Waiting in a quarantine room for an on-call specialist to arrive

Hazel

Praying for you

Katie

At this rate, I’m going to miss my morning lectures… and I have midterms next week… ugh

Hazel

You’ll be ok. Can you ask a classmate to send you their notes?

Katie

I don’t know anyone in my classes

My face burns, shame creeping up as Hazel takes a minute to reply. She’s likely shocked and confused that I haven’t made friends in the six whole weeks since term started. Meanwhile, she goes to parties every weekend and makes friends in every class.

A twinge of envy bubbles up. Not all of us can be social butterflies.

Hazel

I promise it’s easy to make friends in university. Everyone is in the same boat. Say hi to the person next to you in class, and say yes to department events. Trust me.

Katie

Ok ok. I will

Even the prospect makes me shift uncomfortably.

Growing up in Toronto together, I got used to having Hazel as a crutch in social situations. She’s popular; I’m a wallflower. She talks; I tag along. That’s how we work. I meet new people through her. That’s why university would be easier if she were here—but she got a scholarship to the University of Toronto, and I got a scholarship to the University of British Columbia. As much as we wanted to attend the same institution, we both knew it would be ridiculous to prioritize our codependence over our future careers. So here I am, a five-hour flight away from my family, bestie, and everything I’ve ever known.

Footsteps approach on the other side of the door. “Yes, Doctor. Quarantined.”

I jolt to attention in the chair, putting my phone away. My savior is here—even as the wordquarantinehangs like a death sentence.

The door swings open, and a tall woman in an open white lab coat, black V-neck tee, and tight jeans strides in, clipboard in hand. Her muscular arms fill out the lab coat, and her long legs are—um—very nicely toned. Is it hot in here?