He slowly came into focus. My lips were swollen and my brain fuzzy from the kiss. He looked torn between joy and uncertainty; both emotions flickered across his face.

“I, um …” he paused, “I’ll see you in class.” He turned and swiftly walked away from me.

I guess he wasn’t visiting Tate after all.

I knew one thing for certain: the love spell seemed to be working.

Andrew had totally kissed me. With tongue.

I stared at my yellow and black reflection in the full-length mirror on my closet door.

“This? Why?” I plucked at the black tutu barely covering my ass. “Sexy bee? Sexy insect?” I shrieked. “If I was going as a sexy insect, shouldn’t it be a praying mantis?”

Sam glared at me. “No, they eat their males after sex. Not the message you want to be sending tonight.” She snort-laughed. “Bee sending,” she repeated.

“Help. I can’t be a bee. The puns will kill me.”

“Hold on, I’m not finished with the costume.” She placed a headband with a tiny, black witch’s hat on my head.

“I don’t get it.”

“Think about it.”

“I am! I look ridiculous.” Neon-colored diamond-patterned tights, the aforementioned microscopic tutu, and a yellow and black striped top. “Don’t forget these.” I turned to show her my wings.

“You’re bee-witched!” She clapped her hands together. “Get it? It’s brilliant.”

“If you do say so yourself.” I fought a smile. “Fine. It’s clever.”

“Andrew’s going to love it!”

“Does he have a bee fetish I’m not aware of? A passion for all things honey?” I tried to tug my nonexistent skirt lower only to have my hands swatted away.

“Not that I know of, but you look super hot. He won’t be able to resist.”

The last part was true. The love spell had clearly worked. Our chocolate date and the kiss proved it. He’d sat next to me in class again. We’d exchanged numbers, and texted a bunch of times.

Which was all great, but it wasn’t.

Did he really like me, or was it the spell?

There was only one way to find out. I picked up the heart charm and tied it around my neck.

“Red doesn’t really go with the bee thing, Maddy.” Sam wrinkled her nose. “Do you have to wear it tonight?”

“Listen, I’m letting you dress me up as a bee, I mean a bee-witch. Let me wear the necklace. Please?”

“If you insist.” She adjusted her corset and top hat. “Do you think Tate will like this?”

“I have no idea, but he’s a guy, with eyes, so I think he’ll love it.”

Sam was dressed as some sort of time-traveling, Steampunk, corset wearing hottie. She looked like a badass milkmaid.

I looked like a bee. Wearing a hat. At least my legs looked great.

Jack-o’-lanterns and luminaries lined the long driveway to the enormous stone mansion the Winthrops called a summerhouse. It was a far cry from the two-bedroom place my grandparents had on the Cape. Eerie white forms hung in the trees and swayed in the breeze. Shadowy figures spilled out of the house onto the lawn and driveway. It was impossible to identify anyone given the non-existent light, fake smoke, and costumes. A pair of sexy black cats dashed past us, squealing and holding their tails. Sam’s gaze met mine, and even in the dark I could see her roll hers.

“Where do you think Tate and Andrew are?” I asked as we approached the stone staircase leading up to the front door. “We’ll never find them.”

“We just got here, don’t lose faith yet.” She took my hand and led me inside, where the crowd filled the dark, paneled grand foyer and music pulsed from multiple speakers. “Let’s find the bar,” she shouted.

I allowed myself to be led deeper into the maze of hallways, feeling the urge to leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind me to find my way out again. We passed open doors into rooms that might be called studies or dens, each filled with a random assortment of costumed partygoers. Sexy bunnies chatted up rotting zombies while doctors flirted with sexy nurses. Hamilton was there dressed as a pimp, complete with hideous purple zebra pimp hat. Gross. If this love spell and magic thing did really work, I planned to buy a spell to give him boils. Or make his dick shrivel up smaller, if that was possible. He didn’t have the cock to back up his cocky attitude.

After asking a hobbit about the bar, we stepped outside on a large back terrace overlooking the dark beach and black water beyond. A huge bar — filled with bizarre looking jars of smoking potions — stood off to the left. The crowd was only a few people deep when we joined the line. I scanned the space for a familiar tall, lanky form with pale hands and long fingers while Sam chatted up a sexy Tardis in line ahead of us. Still no sign of our hosts.

“What’s your potion tonight?” a familiar voice asked.

My head whipped around so fast my witch’s hat almost flew off. Andrew stood behind the bar in a suit and trench coat.

“Maddy?”

“Andrew? Or should I say, Dr. Who?”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“He’s Doctor Who,” the sexy Tardis scoffed at us while tilting her cleavage in Andrew’s direction. The fact she had cleavage while dressed as a blue British telephone booth earned her bonus points for execution.

Andrew’s eyes widened and he averted his eyes as fast as possible.

“I heard you the first time and that’s why I asked who?” Sam said.

“He’s Who,” I said.

“Who?”

“I’m Who,” Andrew said, laughing.

“Sam, his costume is Doctor Who, from the show of the same name,” I explained.

Sam’s head ping-ponged between us like she was watching a tennis match. “Oh, one of those geeky shows you watch. Explains the coat.”

Andrew scowled at her. He turned to me and asked, “And what are you? A sexy bee?” His lips curled with a grin.

“Ugh, no. I’m—”

“She’s bewitched!” Sam blurted out, still extremely pleased with her idea.

Andrew smiled and leaned across the bar. I mirrored him, moving closer so he could speak directly in my ear. I may have hip-checked the Tardis out of the way on accident. Oops.

“You’ve bewitched me, heart and soul,” he said, quoting Mr. Darcy. I nearly swooned, and did in fact sway on my ridiculously high heels.

I blinked a few times as he smiled and stood to his full height. Bells tinkled and my eyes sought out their source, but I couldn’t find it. Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind, “You’re eyes are different. They’re blue. Or gray.” They reminded me of someone else’s eyes, but I couldn’t place them.

He stared at me for a few seconds. “They’re contacts. You like?” He batted his ridiculously long, dark lashes, rendering me speechless for a moment.

“Maddy?” he asked.

I gave him a shy smile. “I do, they’re very pretty, but I miss your glasses.”

“Good to know.” He grinned at me. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, what’s your potion?” He pointed at the labels on a row of enormous glass jars.

Number nine looked pink and much less scary than the black number thirteen or the milky green number six. “Number nine, please,” I said.

“Excellent choice,” Tate said, appearing from out of nowhere. He was dressed in all black with a long black cape; his dreads were pulled back and tucked under a tall top hat. “The love potion.”

My mouth dropped open, and Sam snickered beside me before ordering the same thing. Tate handed us both smoking glasses of pink liquid, which tasted like strawberries.

While Sam and Tate chatted, Andrew served drinks to a teen wolf and a fairy. I watched him and played with my heart charm. If I took it off now and dropped it, would it seal my fate with Andrew? Did I want him to fall in love with me because of a spell or potion? Would it even count as real love?

Before I could dwell, Sam was tugging me to the dance floor. I waved to Andrew before we were swallowed up by the crowd. The music was louder inside and I lost myself to the beat. We danced our way into the center of the crowded space. I grabbed Sam’s hands and raised our arms in the air, giggling together as we bumped hips. People jostled us and we broke apart. A monkey man spun Sam around, and then gave her a banana. I laughed so hard I bent to catch my breath… and felt the ribbon at my neck loosen and give way before it fell to the floor.