Debbie walked up, smiling. “You must be Emily. I’m told I have you to thank for saving me yesterday. I’m Deb Holloway, I’m very happy to meet you. I used to date your cousin, Gabe. I was very sorry to hear about what happened.”

We hugged, and she actually seemed sincere. “I appreciate your kind words, Deb, Gabe had mentioned you. Well, are you ready to go learn why everything we’ve done is wrong?”

She laughed, but I noticed her giving me a worried glance. I guess that she was wondering what Gabe had told me about her.

I was kind of torn about her. Part of me wanted to hate her and her manipulative ass, but part of me felt I should give her another chance. Revenge sounded so good to me! She’d broken my heart, and her reckless use of magic had led to my transformation.

I’ve heard that there are three questions you need to ask yourself before you seek revenge. First, will revenge fix the problem? No, I’d still be a girl.

Second, will revenge improve the situation? No, it would probably cause even more issues.

Third, and really, most importantly, will revenge make me happier? I thought about it, and though I was very sorely tempted, I finally came to the conclusion that no, I don’t really believe it would. It’s best to just let the problem die. I’m a different person now, and I need to start fresh. Besides, I seem to have a definite shortage of friends.

We do share some things in common, and maybe she’ll be a better friend than she was a girlfriend. We’ll see.

Our first lesson was designed to teach us patience and control. We were supposed to light a candle with only our minds. My first thought was to wonder what Debbie was going to use?

I kill me. Yes, Grandma, if you’re listening, that is a petty and unproductive thought. It’s still a little funny, though.

Yeah, I’ve read several books and stories where the student has to struggle with lighting the candle, and eventually it they become so proficient that it takes only the merest thought to perform the task, and everyone is sooo impressed.

Deb and I focused on our candles, pictured what we wanted in our minds, and then concentrated. Both candles lit with very little effort, and we celebrated with a hug. Mrs. Andrews sewemed suitably impressed, but her only comment was to tell us to do it again. And again . And again…

And she had seemed like such a nice lady, too!

Actually, although it was rather monotonous, we both got to a point where the tiniest thought would light the candle. Then Mrs. Andrews started making things more interesting.

She had us light multiple candles, candles around corners where they were out of our line of sight, lighting several candles in a circular sequence, while we extinguished the candles that started the sequence,, and then relighting them again, kind of like the circle was blinking. That one made me dizzy.

No, comments about “dizzy blondes” are not necessary, thank you very much.

Our “homework” was to practice our control over the flames, making them bigger, smaller, even hotter or cooler. The first thing I needed was a safe place to practice.

I’ve heard of witches who can “create” a practice area in some kind of a “pocket dimension.” Too cool! I can only dream of such things. I have to settle for practicing in the driveway. Really? It was only a candle, for goodness sakes!

“Mom!” I yelled as she sprayed the fire extinguisher.

“I’m sorry, sweetie! I thought you might get burned!”

“I haven’t started yet!”

She made it very hard to practice. Maybe I should start by setting her bra on fire.

Despite the best efforts of my parental unit, I actually did get some practice in. It really wasn’t that difficult. In fact, I was having fun!

At least, I was, until Grandma sprayed me with the hose.

The next day I met Deb at school, and we compared experiences. Her family had really enjoyed themselves. The worst was either her father with the pitcher of water, or her brother with a super-soaker.

I’m sensing a conspiracy here.

After school, we settled into our seats at Mrs. Alexander’s place. She sat down and asked us how our homework went, and then she broke into laughter. Seeing the silliness of it, we joined in.

“I’m sorry, girls, but it’s the traditional welcome for new students.”

“So you got it, too?” Deb asked.

“Oh yes. My mom, and your grandmother, Emily, gave me a nice wet welcome. The candle lighting is actually a very simple thing, but it often impresses the new girls. I’m not sure who started the welcoming wetting, but it’s been going as long as I can remember.”

“You’re not sure…does that mean you have an idea who started it?” I asked.

“Well, the rumor I heard was that it was Elizabeth Carstairs, but there is no proof, and she’s never admitted anything.”

“My Grandma?” I thought about it, and giggled. “Yeah, she'd do it.”

“I’ve always been told that there is a great deal of serious responsibility involved in our lives as witches.” Mrs. Alexander explained. “Having a sense of humor is very important to our sanity, so we try to have fun with what we do, but never forget, magic is not a toy. There are serious dangers when we use our powers, and that’s what we’re going to work on today.”

I was very familiar with the dangers of wild magic. I was surprised at how much of this “magical pollution” was created with each use of our powers, but there were things we could, and should do to minimize the effects. It struck me that if only Debbie had known this, I wouldn’t have to deal with this, but it was useless to worry about that now.

"Mrs. Alexander?" I asked. "Doesn't the magic we do with the candles cause problems?"

"Not really. Yes, there is some buildup, but lighting a candle takes almost no effort at all, and thus has little waste. It actually takes more energy just to breathe."

"So it's directly related to how much effort we use?"

"Yes, the energy to create magic comes from you. A major 'spell', for lack of a better word, will pull a great deal of energy out of you."

"When Deb had her accident, I could feel a draining, almost like I was pouring some of myself into her."

"That's actually a good analogy. Even though you did the healing instictively, you had to give her your own energy to help her heal."

I noticed Deb was thoughtful. I don't know how much energy her "love spells" used, but I'm guessing it was considerable.

Class went well, and Grandma was right, I actually had fun. Deb and I were building a bond of friendship that my Mom said would last throughout our lives. I hoped she was right-I wondered how Debbie would feel when she found out that I used to be Gabe?

I knew that she would eventually find out. Secrets always come out at some point, and I’ve always felt that if the truth was told, hard feelings are avoided. I was afraid, though, that Debbie would feel the guilt that I didn’t want to lay on her. So what do I do? I had a feeling that nothing I did was going to be right.