Willow the Witch

Chapter One- the boss

"Jenson, where is the plain burger for number 208?" I yelled, glaring at Jenson Bouvier through the window in the expeditor station. Even though I'd just finished high school myself, I already began to resent High schoolers- or at least Aushire's high schoolers. Although, truthfully, I think I had really despised everyone since the day I started kindergarten. I had started at Dale's Burger Emporium right at the start of senior year. I hadn't considered the fact that with so few places for teenagers to work in Aushire, I wouldn't be the only Aushire High School student applying to work there. The restaurant was just outside of town, in a bigger town called Newmeir. A few students who lived in Newmeir attended Aushire schools as well, though most opted to attend Pierhaven, the rich high school in the richest town in our state.
Most of the other school students who'd worked at Dale's were tolerable. The real snobs would refuse to work at a restaurant, but midway through the school year, Jenson had applied there. He'd just finished his junior year and he was notorious for being a huge dickhead. He was one of the students who lived in Newmeir but attended Aushire. Jenson was the stereotypical heartthrob and jock, and even I couldn't deny he had some physical charm. He was tanned with shaggy brown hair in thick curls. He oftentimes defied the school dress code, wearing tank tops that showcased his abs that he'd gotten from all of his sports. He was on the football, wrestling, and track team and his job the previous summer had been assistant coach for the little boy's baseball team, which I'd only known since my brother, Maxwell, was on the team. He'd wanted to quit the team, but my mother wouldn't allow it. Just as I knew she wouldn't let me quit my job and find another, at least not until I finished witching school, which I was planning to graduate from that October. Even so, then I'd likely have to either go to Witching College or Mortal College or both like my eldest sister, Ariadne, and choose a career one way or another. Ariadne chose a career in both; working both as a domestic violence advocate, and helping my mother run Roan Apothecaries, our shop for potion ingredients and other various witchery nicknacks.

Jenson had been making sandwiches for the past few  lunch shifts and he never seemed to make them correctly. He'd fling sandwiches down the line, not bothering to read the reciepts and follow special requests. Customers were furious. The youngest employee, Haylee, was fourteen, so all she could really do was take orders and collect payment in the window. This was Haylee's first job, therefore she was nervous, and always asked me to assist when customers were angry. But I was supposed to be bagging the drive thru and front counter orders, so when I stepped out of place to talk to the customers who were furious because Jenson messed up, orders got behind and Jenson often messed up even further, and in turn Haylee was even more stressed. If things got really bad, I had to call the manager, Donnie, to the front to assist- but he was a bitter man who preferred to boss everyone else around. So most of the daytime summer shifts so far had just been me, Jenson and Haylee.
"Plain burger coming down!" Jenson called out with a laugh, launching a burger down the chute with a strong throw, causing it to slide right off of the heated holding chute and hit the floor.
"Jenson!" I hissed. I hated being the bossy employee that nobody liked, especially since I was close in age to them, but I also couldn't stand to have mistakes. I was always relieved when two o'clock hit, because that was the time Roni usually came in. Veronica Adler had just finished her junior year of college, and had been a shift lead at Dale's since she was my age. She'd attended Aushire High too, but I hadn't really known her then. She knew how to command people in an effortless way that didn't make her look like a bitch, a skill I longed to learn. I always seemed angry, even when I wasn't. It also helped her cause that she was beautiful, and Jenson was a hormonal sixteen year old boy, so he'd gladly obey her.
"Chill out," Jenson grinned back, flinging another burger down the line. This one landed on the counter, but was still wrapped, so it would have to suffice. I bagged it up myself, stepping into the window where a nervous Haylee stood.
"I'm so sorry about that wait, ma'am," I frowned, handing the bag out to a middle aged woman whose scowl had been imprinted on her face for quite some time. I handed her a couple of five dollar off coupons which Donnie had instructed us to give out to difficult customers.
"I just don't understand why it takes you guys so long to make a single fucking sandwich," the woman growled.
"We're a little short staffed right now," I answered with a nervous smile. One thing Roni had taught me was that even if another employee was at fault, never admit that to a customer. Sometimes I wished life just came with a rule book. There were so many unwritten rules I was supposed to abide by without knowing. I'd always been a bit of a goody-two shoes, but I couldn't follow a rule I was unaware of.
"That's evident." The woman snapped, her eyes widening as she looked at me. I wished I was skilled enough to have mastered the mind reading spell so I could just know the reaction the lady was looking for and give to her. But I didn't.
"Sorry again, ma'am." I stated flatly. "Have a nice day." The woman still wore a frown, but said nothing, so I closed the window. I turned to start bagging up some more orders, when I heard Haylee whine, "she's still here, Will."
I let out a deep sigh and returned to the window. "What else can we do for you, ma'am?" I asked.
"I need to see your manager." The woman huffed. "The attitude I've received here has been outrageous."
"What attitude?" I asked. I'd meant the question sincerely, but I'd realized as soon as it left my lips that it was the wrong thing to say. I'd learned quickly on in life that there were some things you just weren't supposed to say, and there was certain ways to say certain things. I began to think I'd never get it. I mean, I was turning eighteen in two weeks and still hadn't gotten it, so I figured I never would.
"Yours, little missy." The woman barked.
"I'll get him." I agreed, stepping to the back, fighting off the tears that began to form in my eyes. It's okay. You're fine. I told myself. There's no need to cry. Donnie is a sensible man. He'll handle the customer.
"Donnie, a customer wants to talk to you." I called out, but he wasn't at his desk in the back of the store by the storage area. "Donnie?" I called out, popping my head into the walk in freezer to ensure that he wasn't counting product. When he wasn't there, I glanced at his desk, where he left a note saying, on lunch break. He did that frequently, he'd take off with no care or concern.
I knew the lady wouldn't be happy until she saw a manager, so I just decided I would have to play the part.
I'd never done a spell this big, but I'd studied it. It would just have to work. I wasn't very good at finger magic- magic that was effortless and focused on intent, usually done with the flick of a finger. I was best at potions, because they were right to the point. You added certain things and got a certain result. Potions were a dying art, though. They were really only used for subtle spells, where you had to trick someone else into taking a potion- or sometimes they were used for bigger spells, where a lack of precision could be fatal. Spell casting was alright, but you had to be quick with coming up with spells unless you could find one already written. That was pretty much what it sounded like, spells enacted by words. Finger magic somehow relied on your abilities to connect your mind with your magic. My instructor had described it as feeling the magic in your bones, coursing through your body, and controlling it. Spell casting was more precise than finger magic, but finger magic was more and more common now in the modern witching world. I closed my eyes tightly, and raised my pointer finger.
"Donnie Scottsman." I whispered out loud, pointing to myself. A quick swirl of light engulfed me, then dispersed, as I could feel myself grow a few heads taller and several pounds heavier. I'd only done this spell once before, when we had to for class. Imitating other people was a tricky spell, and rather uncomfortable too. And even then, I hadn't been in a man's body. Being in another body was a strange feeling. He was always sweaty, which I could feel against his clothes, and I could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his- or my- forehead. My shoes were thick and clumpy, and the gray dress slacks he wore were terribly uncomfortable. I took a deep breath and headed up front, wearing a smile that even Donnie himself didn't have. Despite his appearance, when talking to the customers, he did always present himself as a kindhearted man.
"What seems to be the problem, Miss?" I asked, careful to try and sound different than myself.
You're a fifty year old man, not a seventeen year old girl. I reminded myself.
"That girl you have here. She's absolutely horrible." The woman barked. "And Your staff took forever to make a simple burger. And when I questioned that girl, she slammed the window in my face."
That's not true, I knew I didn't slam it. I shut it. I thought the conversation was over.
"My employee did not slam the window," I stated firmly. The woman's cheeks reddened. Another thing Roni  had taught me was that usually the manager's job was to agree with the customer, or at least pretend to. "But I will have a talk with her regarding her attitude." I added on.
"I think it would be in your best interest to retrain your staff." The woman huffed. "Back in my day, if we so much as looked at a customer wrong, well. That wouldn't slide."
"Oh, trust me, I don't take this lightly," I assured the woman. "We value our customers more than anything. I will see to it that she gets a lesson in etiquette."
The woman, seemingly satisfied, gave a curt nod and drove off.
"Continue, please, Haylee." I gestured towards the window. Hopefully, the woman didn't contact the store further. I started heading to the back to change back, when Jenson stopped me.
"Hey, while you're talking about etiquette, maybe discuss her bossiness too." Jenson said through a laugh.
"What do you mean?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips before I realized Donnie would never do that. I quickly wiped them against my slacks instead.
"She runs this place like it's the navy or something," Jenson scoffed. "I mean, chillax. It's just burgers and fries."
"Well, I think Willow just wants to make sure the orders go out and the customers are happy." I explained. Jenson frowned.
"Since when do you take her side?"
"There's no sides," I answered calmly. "I- I'm on the store's side."
"Are you joking?" Jenson raised his voice, frowning. "Just last week you said you felt like she was too much of a hard ass!" My stomach dropped. I didn't think Donnie liked me as an employee, but I thought that  at the very least he respected me. I mean, if he wasn't there to keep order in the restaurant, who was meant to? Was I supposed to let the sandwiches come out wrong? To let the customers be angry? Once again, I had to fight the urge to cry. Donnie Scottsman wouldn't cry.
"Yes, I suppose she is," I stated, obligated to agree. I couldn't do things as Donnie that Donnie wouldn't do or it would mess up too much.
"I mean, even today, she's getting mad at me for having fun," Jenson continued on. "And Haylee's scared of her."
Haylee peaked her head around the corner nervously.
"Is that so, Haylee?" I asked, trying to sound sympathetic. I felt sick.
"Well.. not really scared," Haylee explained. "But a little uncomfortable. She's so stern."
Haylee gave a small smile, seemingly glad to get that off her chest. I had no clue that Haylee was bothered by me. Why the hell does she always come to me then? I thought.
"I'll have a talk with her." I assured the both of them, turning to the back, where I pointed my finger at myself and said, "Willow," as the tears began trickling from my eyes. I could feel my body return to its normal state- and I quickly wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. I remained back there a few moments as if I was talking to Donnie. I tried to place what he'd say if he had really talked to me. He'd never rat out Jenson. He'd probably just tell me I wasn't the boss and to stop acting like it. I didn't know how to stop acting like it though. I believed we were supposed to care about the job, to take orders seriously. There was only one solution, I knew. A spell. Cast a spell. If I had the power to quite literally cast my worries away,why not use it?
I closed my eyes and focused, as the headmistress's instructions trilled in my mind; You have to be very specific in spell casting, I knew I certainly didn't want my worries to be gone forever, simply for one afternoon.
"For the rest of my shift, let my worries drift," I stated, uncertainly at first. As I expected, nothing happened, so I repeated the line a few more times with confidence until finally I felt the magic kick in. I never quite got used to the feeling. My brain just felt clouded over, and I was aware of who I was, but there was a block on it. Every thought took longer and longer to process. My sister, Griselda, said being drunk felt a lot like being spelled. And she loved drinking. She was twenty three and incredibly smart, both in Witchery and regular school. If I hadn't been born, I believe Griselda would've been the black sheep of the family. She didn't chose a career in Witchery. Somehow, she'd made a career working at the theatre in Pierhaven. She designed costumes and sometimes sets. She was very skilled in her arts, but she was very big on wanting to have, in her words, "a normal early twenties experience". She drank with her friends and went to parties. Luckily for her, by the time she'd decided she wanted a mortal career, and an untraditional one by my mother's standards at that, it was already obvious that I wasn't very skilled. I was then my mother's biggest problem. Then it didn't matter if Griselda had purple hair and a septum ring, at least she was talented. Out of all seven of us Roan kids, I was the only one who hadn't excelled. Well, except Lilith, maybe. She was only fifteen months old. Sometimes, out of desperation, I prayed that she might be awful just so the shame could be removed from me, but she was already learning. Sometimes she had to wear a bracelet that had been enchanted to contain her magic, because when she had tantrums, sometimes she would cause a toy or something to go flying. I remembered the same things happening with Maxwell, and my other younger sister, Juniper; and my mom claimed the older girls; Ariadne, Griselda and Sabrina had been the same way, but I hadn't levitated anything until I was four. And even then, it wasn't out of skill. It was because Sabrina, who'd been six, cut my doll's hair and I'd been so mad that I levitated a block and it flew towards her head. My mother had appeared into the room and caught it.

If this was what being drunk felt like, I was beginning to see why Griselda enjoyed it. My thoughts weren't the same at all. I felt like I was walking on air, I wasn't worried about what my co-workers thought of me or if the orders were perfect. I walked up front with a newfound confidence. When Haylee saw me, I noticed her tense up, but I didn't let it bother me. Instead, I started bagging orders from how Jenson labeled them, throwing them messily into the bag. Normally I cared too much,making sure everything was put into the bag perfectly, with the exact amount of napkins, utensils and sauces. This time, I was just throwing items in, even shocking myself. I felt a tiny twinge of remorse in doing so, which the spell quickly dismissed.
"Willow, the customer wants an extra three ranches," Haylee called out a moment later. Our policy indicated that two sauces came per side, one per sandwich, and any additional sauces would be a twenty five cent upcharge. So the woman should've been charged seventy five cents, but before I even had the chance to process it, I could hear my mouth saying, "alright." And my body went over to the sauce containers, grabbed three sauces, opened the window and dropped them into the bag the customer had extended with a smile.
"You didn't charge her, Willow," Haylee exclaimed.
"Who cares. It's just a few sauces." I shrugged. Haylee's eyes widened, I could tell she was nervous, so I gave her a friendly clap to the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. If Donnie says anything, I'll tell him I did it. The sauce rule is stupid anyways."
I did think the rule was stupid. Most people wanted way more sauces and were mad over the charge, but usually I'd oblige the rule anyways. I never realized when I spelled my worries away, I would shake my fear of consequence too. Right then, I couldn't care less if Donnie fired me or if my mother hated me.

A few orders later, a man had received ketchup on a burger when he'd asked for none. Instead of pitching a fit, I called back to Jenson, "Can I get a number six no ketchup when you have a second?" He'd actually ended up making the correct sandwich quicker. I didn't profusely apologize to the customer, only once and I let him be on his way. I had to admit, it felt nice not to worry.
That was, until Donnie returned and I could hear Jenson say, "That talk you had with Willow really helped."
Donnie furrowed an eyebrow. "What talk?"
"You just talked to her didn't you?"
"No," Donnie answered. "I just got back from my lunch break."
"I just saw you maybe a half hour ago," Jenson answered.
"Jenson, I wasn't here." Donnie insisted.
I also hadn't considered that wishing away my worries would wish away the non job related worries I had during that time, too. So then, I didn't care that they knew something was going on.
Jenson was confused, but didn't argue. I knew both of them could sense something was off. Had I been worried, I would've remembered the cameras. Donnie rarely checked them, but he could. But I didn't care about anything. Not even the thought of exposing witchcraft to mortals.

I knew I'd pay the price for that later, but thankfully right then, I didn't care.