Page 23 of Bewitch

“A movie sounds great. Let’s see what’s on Netflix.”

* * *

Sometimes, maybe when you try to put good thoughts into the world, it really does come back to you because the next morning, early, when Brooke insists on buying me a healthy breakfast to start my day off right, we spy a car on the side of the road. I’m not sure it’s because I point, but Brooke pulls over to the side.

We both get out and approach the girl who is opening her trunk.

“Do you need any help?” Brooke asks.

The girl looks at us. “I’m fine,” she says, speaking with a hint of an accent. “Thank you for stopping.”

“Are you sure?” I press.

“Completely sure. My father would have been very upset with me if I didn’t take to hear his lessons for a productive life, a life where I need no man.” She alters her voice to be deep and booming as she very emphatically points out us.

Brooke and I laugh.

She brushes back her short, thick red hair, parted down the center. “You two don’t have to stay here with me.”

“We aren’t in a rush,” I say. “I’m Dawn Melton. This is Brooke Adams.”

“Skylar Lopez,” she offers.

Brooke tils her head to the side. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but… your hair isn’t dyed, is it? It looks so natural.”

“It is natural. My father is Spanish, but my mom is Irish. I have his eyes but her hair.” She grins and bats her deep set brown eyes. Her clothes are vividly colored, making her look almost Bohemian, and I love how effortless she appears even as she returns to work, getting out the stuff needed for her to change her tire.

“We’re off to get breakfast,” Brooke says. “Do you want us to bring you something?”

“If you can wait five minutes…”

During those five minutes, we learn that Skylar goes to the same college we do, but she’s a commuter who lives in an apartment off campus. She’s a sophomore and her roommate is her cousin, and as the three of us eat at the diner, we become fast friends.

Even though I don’t normally talk about my weight, I admit to Skylar that I’m trying to take charge over it.

“My mom has been struggling with weight all of her life,” Skylar says. “I know that when she changed to cooking almost all of her meals versus eating a lot of frozen meals or canned crap, that was when she turned the corner.”

“Cooking would be amazing,” I mumble.

“But living on campus, you can’t really do that,” she says. “I have to watch what I eat, too, because if I don’t, I can weight easier than I would like. Inherited more than just red hair from my mom. You two are welcome at my place anytime.”

Skylar isn’t kidding. She gives so we can come and go and have access to her stove and oven whenever we want.

“Thank you so much,” I gush.

“No worries. All I ask is that you guys use your own food if you cook there.”

“We will. Do you mind if we store some stuff there?” Brooke asks.

“Not a problem. My cousin has a label maker. She sells some stuff online on Etsy. Don’t dare ask if you can use the label maker, but just tell her what’s yours, and she’ll label it for you. She loves that thing, and any excuse to use it makes her day.”

“Are you sure she won’t mind?” I ask.

Skylar laughs. “Cassie loves people. She gets along with everyone. Believe me, she won’t mind making new friends, and if you tell her that you helped me—”

“We didn’t,” I protest.

Skylar tilts her head to the side. “You wanted to, and that’s what matters. If you helped me, you’ll be family in her eyes. You know, I have a few Mexican recipes from my father that could be tweaked to be healthier. Maybe tomorrow morning, we can make it together.”

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