Finding out everything about Mikey wasn’t especially easy. It turned out that he was a bit of a loner and didn’t belong to any particular friend group. He was talented with a paintbrush and a pen and excelled in the art class that he shared with Jen.

He was quiet, and kind of shy, and when Becca asked her friends, few even remembered him being at the party, let alone what he’d done there or when he’d left. As potential suspects went, he was damned near perfect.

Still, since I didn’t know if he was the actual killer, I needed to make sure he appeared to be, and that was something I could do.

The problem, though, I realised as I sat in the art classroom and listened to the teacher waffle on about something or other I had lost interest in the minute he started talking, was that I had a very limited window of opportunity to do anything.

Once Becca was around, I had no chance of casting a spell and since I only had until the end of the college day before she was back with me, that didn’t leave me much time. It also ruled out my little charm spell.

Since that spell required the recipient to be emotionally defenceless, the easiest way for a guy would be to get him so horny that all the blood rushed from his big brain to his little brain and left him wide open.

Not something I could do in the classroom.

That left getting him drunk almost to the point of losing consciousness or so angry, or sad, that he lost control of his emotions and allowed my spell to slip right into his defenceless mind.

I couldn’t see that happening either.

For a while, I half-listened to the teacher and pondered what approach I could use. Time was short and I could feel my connection with Jen’s body solidifying with each passing moment. Sure, that was likely just paranoia on my part, but I could still feel that slow creep and I was itching to get out of this body and into my own.

The teacher finished his lecture and urged the class to begin their practical work, which for some would mean painting and for others sculpting in clay. Jen, it appeared, had some skill with pencils and paints, and so that was the medium with which I was about to embarrass myself.

Looking through her portfolio, I could see why she’d been offered a place at university, she’d had talent. It seemed almost a shame for me to try to emulate her work, and after just a couple of lines drawn across the page, I realised that I had no chance of coming remotely close to emulating it.

Since the teacher wasn’t watching me, I searched the room for inspiration. Mikey was sitting at the far side of the room, as far from the others as he could possibly be. He’d brought his own case full of what I guessed to be decent-quality brushes and was fully focused on the task at hand.

Which gave me the merest hint of an idea.

I still wore the cheap piece of jewellery around my neck that Jen had been wearing the night she’d died. It was scuffed and old, the pendant in the shape of a heart. A simple design, blank on either side.

Taking it off, I lay it down on the desk and searched my bag for something I could use. The sharp point of a compass was perfect and I set to work, etching the metal of the pendant with the design of a focusing sigil.

Much like the one that I’d scribbled onto a piece of paper, it would allow me to cast a spell from a distance that would affect those near it. Since a lot of witch magic was not the type you wanted to be seen casting, it was a method used most often in the covens, though oftentimes they had more efficient methods than a poorly etched design.

Once done, I muttered the incantation and sat back in my chair. No one seemed to have noticed what I was doing so I gathered up the necklace and headed across the classroom, passing behind Mikey to the cabinets beside him.

I made a show of searching for the paints there and picked up a bottle of black paint before turning and stumbling. I fell against Mikey, the paint bottle dropping from my fingers into his lap.

“Oh, god! Sorry,” I said, offering a warm smile. I dropped in a little giggle as Mikey blushed. “Here let me get…” I reached for the bottle in his lap but he quickly gathered it up and passed it to me, his cheeks heating even further.

“Here, it’s okay.”

“Really, I’m such a klutz.”

“It’s fine.”

I gave one final smile and a small, embarrassed wave of my hand and then I was off, past him and back to my seat. He glanced my way and I ducked my head, smiling to myself. He’d not even noticed as I’d slipped the necklace into the pocket of his coat.

The worst thing that could happen was that he’d notice it at some point, but I figured that even if he did, he was the type of guy who would keep hold of it until he could drop it in at the office as lost and found.

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That gave me the night to cast the spell and since I’d had the presence of mind to rescue the book of curses from the farm, I was pretty sure I could find one that would suit my purpose.

Humming quietly to myself, I made a few more experimental lines on the paper before giving up, my mouth twisting in disgust at my absolute lack of talent and ability.

The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough and as soon as the bell rang I had my bags packed and was out of the door, pushing through the crowded hallways to the front entrance where I said that I’d meet Becca.

She was where she said she’d be, though she happened to be standing with two other girls. A blonde-haired, slip of a thing, barely five feet in height with elfin features and an infectious smile, and a girl that was easily forty pounds overweight. She had the brightest blue eyes that practically shone out from beneath a mousey-coloured fringe, and a warm smile of greeting as she waved as I approached.

“Hey, we’re going for food,” Becca said. Her smile was genuine and my heart sank a little as the window of time I had to find and cast a suitable curse was suddenly a lot smaller. “You up for it?”

There was an ‘out’ but something told me that I shouldn’t take it. Not if I needed to maintain the illusion of who I was pretending to be, and keep Becca on side.

“Sure, sounds good.” I tilted my head a little as I studied the two girls. Was I supposed to know them? “Where we going?”

“Lisa thinks, KFC.” Becca rolled her eyes as if the merest suggestion was an insult. “And Gilly.” Her hand gently pressed the shoulder of the larger girl. “Thinks Roland’s.”

I had no idea what ‘Roland’s’ was and little interest in finding out, though the thought of greasy, mass-produced fast food was hardly any more appealing.

“How about a pub?”

“Sounds good to me,” Becca cooed, gently urging the others to agree.

“Fine, but it needs to be one that serves food,” Lisa said, her voice high-pitched and annoying. “I’m starving.”

“Same,” Gilly said, laughing. “But nothing new there.”

The girls chattered amiably as we walked and I hung back, not quite sure how I belonged in the group. Was Jen the shy girl, or the boisterous always laughing type? I wasn’t entirely sure and I hated being unsure of anything.

When the subject turned to boys, I very quickly lost interest and only half-listened as I tried to recall the curses that had been listed in the book's index. I needed one that would allow me to make Mikey appear to be a killer with a vendetta against me.

Of course, I also needed him to be pretty bad at it as I didn’t want him to actually kill me, which suggested a level of fine-tuning that I wasn’t sure I could manage with Jen’s abilities. She was new to being a witch and unpractised.

Becca dropped back as the other two walked on ahead. She watched me from the corner of her eyes, a smile on her face. She seemed happy, which was strange and not at all what I’d been expecting.

“You should join in more,” she said, after a moment of silent walking.

“I don’t know these people.”

“Jen did.” Her smile softened, turning down at the corners. “She was close with them.”

“Which is why I can’t understand your reason for bringing them with us,” I hissed. “How the hell am I supposed to be Jen around people who really knew her?”

Becca didn’t answer, she just ducked her head a little and kept on walking. It took me a moment to realise that for her, the almost normalcy of just hanging out with friends, was something she missed doing with her friend.

I knew that I tended to be self-involved but it was a new one for me to be so self-involved that I’d forgotten that she’d lost a friend just a few days ago. That she was holding it together as well as she was said a great deal about her resilience.

“Sorry,” I said. “It must be hard.”

The slightest hint of a smile returned to her face as her eyes flicked towards me. “Is that actually empathy I hear?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I will,” she teased. “You’ve shown you can express it now so I will expect more of it.”

Her laughter was infectious and I found myself smiling along with her. By the time we reached the pub, we were in high spirits and I found myself warming to the other two girls after I had a couple of vodkas in me.

If they noticed anything different about their friend, neither of the girls mentioned it and I ended up relaxing and even enjoying the evening. It was a fairly unique perspective for me, being ‘one of the girls’ and realising that they were wildly different from the guy friends I’d hung around with.

With the warmth of the alcohol in my belly, I found myself thinking that it wasn’t so bad, being in Jen’s body. It was a way to increase my knowledge of women, in how they thought and behaved when there were no men around.

It was eye-opening, to be sure.

Soon, the evening became night and more drinks were bought. Abigail’s payment was reduced as I bought drinks for the group, and before I knew it, last orders were being called. I blinked blearily at the barman as he rang the bell once again and I turned back to Becca.

“I think we should go,” she said, finishing her vodka. “You gonna drink that?”

It took me a moment to realise she was asking me the question and I looked down at my still-full glass and shook my head. The pleasant feeling of intoxication was fast reaching the point where it would become unpleasant and I knew that if I drank that last drink, it would push me over the edge.

“I’ll order a taxi,” I said, picking up my phone as Becca finished off my drink.

We said goodnight to the girls and walked arm-in-arm to the taxi as it pulled up. Becca chattered away amiably to the driver as I sat back, eyes drooping as we drove through the city and back towards Jen’s home.

The two of us stumbled into the house and up the stairs, giggling and laughing, and then into the bedroom. I almost fell to the bed and kicked off my trainers as Becca used the bathroom. When she came back, she was already undressing and climbed into bed beside me.

“My head’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

“Mine too,” I agreed, then paused. “Was fun though.”

Becca pushed herself up and spun around to sit beside me. Her head dropped to my shoulder and she interlaced her fingers with mine.

“It was,” she agreed. “Thank you. I think I needed that, you know?”

I didn’t, but I murmured agreement anyway which seemed to please her. She lifted her head and looked me in the eyes. Hers were hazel with specks of gold and her breath was warm on my cheek as she leaned in close.

She pressed her lips to my cheek and my breath caught. She pulled back, eyes not leaving mine. We stared in silence, the moment stretching and then I leant in, my lips pressing against hers and all thought vanished.