“Wouldn’t he know that already?” Adriana puts in, eyeing me like I’m a shaky-looking building that might come down any second. “If Auggie’s a Sensitive, how come he’s never experienced anything like this before? Why is it suddenly happening now?”

“He’s at about the right age. As I’m sure you know, Wicca and sorcery aren’t the same thing, and anyone can manifest a magical gift. Not all witches are adept at advanced magic, and not all adepts are familiar with basic witchcraft.” Ximena makes it all sound mundane, but when she says “sorcery,” she’s talking about stuff like conjuring, psychokinesis, and transmogrification. “But if you have the gift, it usually makes itself known around puberty.”

“I already went through puberty,” I state, mortified. Okay, yes, I was kind of a late bloomer, but I’ve definitely matured in all the necessary places—and, thanks to daily testing, I am confident when I say that my parts function the way they’re supposed to.

“The brain isn’t fully developed until you’re about twenty-five,” Ximena returns smartly. A science teacher for the nearby Skokie school district, she is impossible to argue with. “As for dreams and trances … overlapping ley lines are volatile, and there’s no way to predict how their friction will affect those of us in their shared path. They’ve stirred up psychic energy, and just your luck, you’re an antenna tuned in to the signal.”

The nervous heat in my body breaks, a relieved sweat cooling my forehead. “You really think that’s all it is?”

“Of course!” Ximena raps the table. “Listen, I’ll talk to my circle, and if your parents are okay with it, maybe you can join us sometime. Let some experienced witches help get you sorted out.”

“Are you sure?” I ask uncomfortably, glancing at Adriana. Joining her grandmother’s coven is her biggest dream, and her parents have forbidden it until she turns eighteen. Watching me get offered exactly what she wants has to hurt.

But Adriana forces a supportive smile just the same. “You should do it, Auggie. It could make a huge difference for you.”

Somehow, my best friend and I each ended up with what the other wants most. Nervously, I say to Ximena, “I’ll talk to my parents.”

“Great! We’ll set something up.” Reaching over, the woman ruffles my hair. “In the meantime, just keep being careful.”

Then, without warning, she rips a couple strands of my hair out by the roots, and I shriek a little. “Ow!”

“Abuela!” Adriana barks, but her grandmother shrugs it off.

“What? I need it for a protection spell for Auggie.”

“You said I had nothing to be worried about!” I glare at her, rubbing my head.