Cursed

Chapter Eleven

 "Little Bird, do you know if any of Dara's friends are going to join us tonight?" Gran asked, trying her best to mask her true feelings. Gran didn't like Dara's friends any more than I did. Although, I had only met Vayne. I couldn't imagine what the rest of them were like. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to look guilty. I still hadn't told Gran about Dara's cult or what they had planned for me.

I tried to tell her, a couple of times, but something always came up. I really tried to tell her when I flew home early from New York. It had been a couple of days ago. She picked me up at the airport, in the middle of the night. We talked all night and didn't go to sleep until the next morning. I had been so wired, telling her all about what Chad had told me. It didn't seem like the right time to tell her about Dara.

"I don't know Gran," I finally answer. "I don't really talk to Dara." I shrug, which makes her frown. Gran has been trying to get Dara and me closer since we moved to Salem. It won't ever work. I think Dara has officially crossed the line with trying to kill me every chance she gets.

We continue to cook in silence. Well, I'm not really cooking, just merely stirring random pots for Gran while she starts on another dish. She is a mad woman with the potato peeler. Every year, for New Year's Eve, Gran throws a huge party. The whole town is invited. I have only been to two in my whole life, but I barely remember them. I was really young. That's why this year it's really important to Gran and me.

It's also been a great distraction to my problems that keep piling up on me. The past couple of days, Gran and I have been preparing. I have been so consumed, I think Addie and Erik think I have officially lost it. Yesterday, they three-way Face-Timed me to make sure I was still alive. They worry too much.

The hours dwindled down and before I knew it: it was time for people to start arriving. Quickly, I ran upstairs to change clothes. I rummaged through my closet, trying to find something to wear. I had nothing. I plopped on my bed about to give up. My butt landed on my Gran's journal.

No, I couldn't, could I? I flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for. A conjuring spell. There was a warning at the top of the page: Do not use to conjure people. There is a consequence for every action.

The warning should have stopped me, but it didn't. I wasn't going to use it to conjure a person, but the perfect dress for tonight. I did as the spell called for, pictured the dress I wanted to wear and chanted the spell, in Latin.

When I opened my eyes, I was wearing the dress. It was blue-green iridescent sequin bodycon dress with sleeves. I was in love with it. It fit me like a glove as if it was made for me. I guess technically it was.

"It's perfect," I muttered to myself, smoothing the dress. It was a tad short, about mid-thigh.

"Cornelia, are you ready--

My door flew open, revealing my mom. She was the worst knocker -- always just barging in. I sighed, glad I was the only one here.

"Mom," I huff.

"Sorry, where did you get that dress?" She raised an eyebrow, taking in the dress. Crap, I hadn't thought about that. I grappled with a quick lie.

"I got it in New York when I was walking around." I lie quickly. Maybe I should feel bad about lying to my mom, but then I remember her barging into my room without knocking. That seems about fair.

"Okay, well I want us all to be downstairs as the guest arrive." She's wearing a merlot colored wrap dress that falls below her knees. It's very business casual of her. She turns on her heel, exiting my bedroom. I release air I had been holding in. Then, she hangs her head back inside.