Page 57 of Best Hex Ever
“Okay, count of three. Dina, take a step back so it doesn’t go all over you.”
Dina did as she was told. The spell wasn’t for her; she didn’t want to accidentally affect the magic by standing too close.
On the count of three, Nour opened the small parcel and blew the golden powder onto Immy’s face. She was enveloped in a cloud of sparkling gold and deep amber, until the powder dissipated into the air as if it had never been there at all.
Not even a stain on the furniture.
“Immy, you look stunning!” Dina squeaked, as Immy turned to behold herself in the mirror. The slickest cat eyeliner and bold red lips stared back at her, and Immy couldn’t help but beam. She got up and threw her arms around Nour, pulling Dina into the hug too.
“What would I do without you both!”
Nour stood back and looked over the makeup appraisingly. “Very good. Very good. Now don’t party too late, because that’s going to disappear from your face at three-thirtya.m. sharp.”
“Why three-thirty?”
“Rules are rules.” Nour took Immy’s hand in her own. “Immy, I’m so proud of you. You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Nour,” Immy replied. “Don’t make me start crying now you’ve fixed my makeup!” she cried, patting her eyes with a tissue.
“Okay, okay, I’m just being an emotional old lady. You can cry all you like though, it’s waterproof.”
As she stood in the doorway, she looked back at them.
“My girls,” Nour smiled. “All grown-up and getting married.”
Dina let out a laugh. “Only Immy’s getting married, Mama.”
Nour gave her daughter a sly, knowing smile. “Don’t question a witch’s intuition, Dina. It never lies.”
And with that, Nour sauntered out.
“A whole family of witches,” Rosemary said. “Do you think you’d ever let me write about it?” She looked over at Dina hopefully.
“Sorry, I already sold my life story to Immy,” she said.
“Yeah, and I’ve got exclusive rights!” the bride cackled. “Right, you two, help me into my dress.”
Immy’s dress was a thing of beauty. Dina remembered her description of her dream dress: a deep-plunge neckline, and long sleeves that widened at the forearm. It looked like it could have been Morticia Addams’s wedding dress, if she’d ever worn white.
“I think I’m going to cry,” Dina sighed as she draped the veil across Immy’s face.
“You better bloody not or I’ll start crying. And then I’ll start sweaty crying and I’ll be a wreck before we even get downstairs,” Immy sniffed. Dina handed her friend the bouquet of sunflowers.
“Eric’s one lucky bastard,” Rosemary said.
Immy looked at herself in the full-length mirror, her blonde hair cascading down her back in an elaborate plait, fresh flowers woven into the braid.
“Yeah, actually, he is.”
Dina’s heart lifted as she heard the confidence in Immy’s voice. It hadn’t always been like this; she remembered late-night phone calls filled with tears when other boys had broken her heart.
And with each broken heart Dina had performed just a tiny little hex, so the next day they would step on dog shit. If they treated her friend like shit, then they would have to step in it. Dina was a firm believer in poetic—and petty—justice.
“I think they’re ready for us,” Rosemary called from the doorway.
Dina arched an eyebrow. “You ready to get married?”
“Hell yeah!” Immy laughed and took Dina’s outstretched arm. Dina wasn’t just going to play the role of maid of honor today. She was going to walk Immy down the aisle.
