I wake the next morning to the frantic buzzing of my phone. The poor thing is about to vibrate itself right off the nightstand and into the waste bin.

“Hello?” I grumble.

I sit up and peek into Dev’s room. He’s already gone and the bed is made up neatly. The dark blue duvet doesn’t even have a wrinkle.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get your butt out here real soon,” Jules says in my ear, sounding like he’s already had his morning coffee and then some.

“A witch is never late, Jules LaTour. She arrives precisely --”

He cuts me off. “She arrives three minutes past the bell every damn day. You’re lucky you have such good grades or the teachers would hate you.”

“Who could hate me?” I ask, already halfway dressed. “I’m delightful.”

Jules snorts.

“Five minutes,” I say before hanging up and rushing to brush my teeth.

The air outside when I meet Jules at my front gate is charged and staticky. Like a giant balloon is hovering just out of sight.

“You got an umbrella?” I ask as we start walking.

“What for? It’s not ‘sposed to rain.”

I shoot him a strange look. “It’s going to. Can’t you feel it?”

Jules glances up at the muted morning sky. “I can’t feel anything but lateness.”

“We’re not late yet, Jules. Relax.” But I pick up my pace anyway, because I don’t want to get caught in the rain.

It starts storming halfway through second period chemistry. I shoot Jules a smug look. He replies by mouthing WITCH at me, making me snort.

Mr. peach clears his throat in my direction. My eyes snap forward obediently but what I see when I look at him makes me gasp.

Mr. Peach has a snake wrapped around his ankle and moving upward, slithering over his pant leg. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care. But I care. In fact, I’m damn near hyperventilating in my chair.

Out of nowhere another snake appears, sliding over his shoe and encompassing his other leg. They are both small and black, with no markings and black eyes. Nondescript. Just… snakes. Snakes that my teacher doesn’t seem to be worried about and my classmates don’t seem to notice. My blinking turns rapid as my heart rate rises.

Mr. Peach continues discussing upcoming changes to our seating arrangements, oblivious to the snakes that are … beginning to flicker and fade. Like a neon light slowly dying.

I press my palms into my eyes. Am I seeing things? I know I’m supposed to gain foresight at some point, but this doesn’t seem like a vision. It seems like spliced footage or something.

When I look back up, Mr. Peach is back to normal. No snakes slither around his person. Jules shoots me a concerned look just as the bell rings. The lights flicker threateningly above us as we stand and gather our things.

“I think I’m hallucinating,” I mutter to Jules when we’re on our way to lunch.

“What, like, right now?”

“Not this exact second, no. But earlier. In Chem.” I pull the strap of my bag higher up on my shoulder.

“What’d you see?”

We round the corner into the cafeteria and I sigh. The room is jam packed. The students who usually sit outside, Jules and myself included, are driven inside by the unrelenting storm. There looks to be only standing room at this point.

Instinctively, my eyes search out Devereaux, scanning the crowd until i find him. He sits at a long table near the windows with the rest of the football team. My stomach sours to see a cheerleader on his lap. Claire Milleux is Dev’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. He isn’t promiscuous like one might expect of a football player, he just breaks up with and gets back together with Claire in an endless cycle. She is also in my and Jules’ chemistry class. She must have jogged to get here so quickly.

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I’m not even sure he likes her all that much. She reclines against his shoulder, her long legs crossed before her, seemingly oblivious to the storm that batters the glass behind her. Dev has one arm secured over her middle but is chatting with another one of his teammates.

Jules and I get our lunch - we always share one - and set against the wall. It seems like most kids shy away from the windows so that’s where we end up.

The witch in me loves storms. I like to think of my inner witch as a feral moonchild that dances naked around bonfires and talks to cats. And she is doing a big ‘ol happy dance at this weather. Reveling in the fierceness of the elements.

“Do you have to go work at the bookstore after school?” Jules asks around a bite of chicken salad sandwich.

I shake my head. “Mama won’t stay open in rain like this. Customers don’t wanna buy books when it’s wet.”

“Makes sense, I guess. I’ll get Dev to drive us home.”

My pulse picks up a little and I glance again in the direction of the football table. “I like walking in the rain. You can ride.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” he groans. “You got so sick the last time I let you do that. Just let us drive you.”

I sigh, remembering the nasty cold I’d fought for weeks. “Fine.” It will get me home faster to ask Mama about my hallucination anyway.

I don’t have any repeat snake sightings for the rest of the school day, which is a relief. The weather, however, only worsens.

Jules and I wait for Dev just inside the doors that lead out to the parking lot. We watch people sprint to their cars with various makeshift umbrellas over their heads. It would be comical if we weren’t about to face the same fate.

Devereaux rounds the corner with Claire on his heels and slows when he sees us. His eyes bounce back and forth between Jules and I.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze,” he says. “We’re taking Claire home too.”

My stomach drops. Crammed into close quarters with Dev’s girlfriend? Not on my bucket list.

I end up halfway on Jules’ lap, leaning mostly against the passenger door for support. Even though she will be the first one out, Princess Claire demands to sit in the middle, pressed up against Dev.

Claire’s house is on the nicer side of town and is easily four times the size of mine and Mama’s little fixer upper. It isn’t quite as big as Moonhollow though.

“I’m having a birthday party tomorrow night,” Claire announces, fighting to be heard above the cacophony of the rain. “You’ll come, won’t you Dev? … You two can come too, I guess.” She glances at Jules and I with a well-practiced nose wrinkle.

Dev glances at us as well, frowning. He obviously doesn’t like the idea of the two of us at a party with him.

In truth, Jules is a partier. He manages to sneak out and get into the majority of the parties around town. Dev seems to remain oblivious to it, though that seems a little unrealistic. Jules drags me along too whenever I allow myself to be dragged, which isn’t often. I don’t much enjoy the party scene.

Dev gives a noncommittal grunt to Claire and she sighs dramatically before gesturing for Jules and I to stand in the rain while she gets out.

Jules shoots her a wink as she passes and she rolls her eyes. We climb back into the truck, both of us drenched and shivering.

“The sex had better be phenomenal with that one,” Jules says to his brother, sniffing indignantly.

I spread my hands open in front of the heat vent, trying to push away the mental image of Devereaux and Claire in the throes of passion.

“Shut up, Julius.” Dev sounds annoyed but there’s no real fire behind his words. “Y’all aint coming to that party.”

Jules scowls. “Why the hell not? You’re not gonna go so what does it matter if we do?”

I hadn’t planned on going, the idea of hanging out at Princess Claire’s house is utterly unappealing, but Jules is so riled up. I let him include me in his plans for the sake of his argument.

“Who says I’m not going?”

“Oh please, Dev. You never go. You’ll be lifting weights with Brody or reading a book somewhere.”

Brody James is Dev’s best friend and fellow footballer. He somehow talks even less than Dev and might as well be the third LaTour brother with as much as he stays at their house. He not-so-affectionately refers to me as Mrs. Jules.

“And how do you know, huh? You go to these parties, Julius?”

Jules falls silent, knowing he is suddenly on dangerous ground.

“Yeah. I know all about your little excursions. You think that shit don’t get back to me? I’m the goddamn quarterback, Jules.”

There is shocked silence as we turn onto our street and bump across the familiar pothole on the corner.

“Well then,” Jules says slowly.

I look at him with wide eyes.

“Guess I won’t have to sneak when I go to Claire’s party,” he says.

My mouth drops open.

Dev growls and his hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Well I’m going too.”

“Great, we’ll see you there.”

“Uh, Jules --” I try to tell him that I won’t be attending. Jules has other friends to party with after all, but he cuts me off with a glare.

“We’ll see you there,” he repeats, emphasizing the ‘we’.

I sigh.

Dev pulls into their driveway, knuckles white and jaw clenched.

“Jules,” Dev begins, but Jules cuts him off.

“Don’t you dare. You’re not my dad. We’ve been over this.”

And they have been. Many, many times. It’s their usual fight, in fact. Dev wants what’s best for Jules, but Jules can’t see that. I’ve given up trying to explain it to him. It was starting to sound like I was on Dev’s side when Jules really needed me to be on his.

I fumble for the door latch and all but fall onto the pavement. The tension between the brothers is suffocating. Maybe it comes along with my witchy ancestry but I’ve always been a little too sensitive to people’s emotions. Anger and resentment like what exists between Dev and Jules always makes me feel like I can’t breath.

Neither boy glances at me as I take my leave, almost blindly making my way across the driveway and my lawn. I’ll let them finish this fight in private. It’s not my business. I suppose I’ll know the outcome when Jules either does or doesn’t drag me to Claire’s party.