Young Writers Society

During the last 24 hours my entire life has been turned completely on its head.

First, I find out that my boyfriend of almost a year has been cheating on me and is leaving me for the other person, his best friend-- James.

Then, I fail my Organic Chemistry midterm because I can’t really focus on Carbon’s whoring activities when Jake has been giving Carbon a run for its money. I’m not upset about him being Bi or gay or anything. Really.

“Uhh, sorry for you finding out like this.”He’s shirtless, and pantless, in bed and obviously mid make-out session with James. Their sculpted bare chests are pressed together in some Archive Of Our Own’s fanfic writers wet dream.“I’m still trying to figure out if I’m Bi or gay or something. But I do know that I’m not really in love with you anymore?”

I’m upset about him cheating on me. Obviously. And slightly confused about him being a little homophobic for the past few months. But that is a hurdle my psyche will have to jump another day.

Then I find out that my best friend and roommate is a witch.

An actual witch.

Not just a pagan witch that manifests outcomes and purifies crystals in the moonlight and does tarot spreads. Like a Practical Magic witch, but I guess she doesn’t jump off her roof on Halloween.

“Get real Jules, that only happens in movies. Do I look like Nicole Kidman to you? God, I wish…”

I find out, about the witch thing, with mascara running down my face-- a shitty costume of a stupid, sad raccoon-- in the kitchen, the only light is coming from the open refrigerator door. I’m taking bites from a block of cheddar cheese like it’s an apple that I just plucked from a tree in an idyllic orchard. The cheese is midway to my mouth when I see my roommate freeze at the top of the stairs to the left of the fridge. We both freeze as we stare at each other, guiltily.

It’s her cheese I’m eating. But I’m much more focused on the glowing recycled salsa jar in her hand. The jar is full of something that’s effervescent and glowing an ominous green and clinging to the lid like gravity had suddenly been reversed but only within the Tostitos jar.

Unable to help myself, I blurt out “What the fuck is that?”

“Is that my cheese?” She blurts back ignoring my question.

“I asked first.” I shoot back, pretty damn sure that I’m finally hallucinating from not sleeping for three days because I was studying for my OChem midterm.

“You’re lactose intolerant,” She replies back just as quickly hiding the not-salsa behind her back. But the green glow reflects off of the window behind her.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow Jules, the glowing green floating shit in the salsa jar is a problem for today Jules. What the fuck is that, Molly?” I ask again, very very close to losing my shit. I really really need to go to bed.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. I did not want you to find out like this, Jules. I am so sorry.” She says sliding to the salad plates in the cabinets and ignoring my gaze

I still haven’t moved, cheese almost to my mouth but forgotten as confusion takes the place of heartbreak, “Didn’t want me to find out about what?” I ask, some part of me still knowing the answer but not believing it.

“Fuck, Jules, I am so sorry but I have to…” She grabs a plate, unscrews the top of the jar. Slides the ceramic over the opening of the glass and flips it upside down like she’s caught a spider within and is trying to release it back to the wild, “Okay, I have to heat this up in thirty seconds or else we are going to have a lot more problems on our plates.”

“What?” The last few words she speaks have no effect on me because I’m too busy watching the glowing liquid in the jar.

Molly moves towards the microwave with her jar and slides it in and quickly sets the timer for a minute and a half, “That should do.” She brushes her hands together like she’s getting dirt off of her palms and turns towards me.

I’m still hunched in the dim glow from the fridge, cheddar cheese clutched in my hand, “Mol, I am about two seconds from absolutely losing my shit with everything that has happened to me today. You have to tell me what the actual fuck you just put in the microwave before I check myself into a mental hospital.”

“Okay, okay. Jules. Stay calm. Please, I know you have had a tough day. But that thing in the microwave is a curse for Jake. I’m a witch. Like a real witch, on Harry Potter levels. Though that is like really inaccurate on the process of spells and everything-”

“I’m sorry, a what for Jake? And you’re like a fucking Hermione? Mol, what the actual shit is happening?”I ask, much much closer to actually losing my shit, “Mol, you better not be fucking with me. None of the doctors at the mental hospital are cute, and I’m not crazy enough to pull off a Joker and Harley Quinn kind of romance. But if I’m being honest, I’d be fucking lucky to pull Margot Robbie.” I’m rambling and I know it. But you’d do the same if your roommate told you she was a fucking witch.

“Jesus, Jules. It’s okay. That potion is a curse for Jake. I need to pour it in his shoes before the next full moon for the full effect to take place, and please Margot Robbie would be lucky to have you as a girlfriend.” Molly replies, too casually for my liking. I had just spent several hours crying to her about Jake, she had persuaded me into bed then disappeared downstairs with the promise of morning mimosas and brunch. And now here we are face to face in the kitchen, but miles of truth between us.

But somehow, her telling me witchcraft is real was something that just clicked into place for me. Like the last missing piece in a 1000 piece puzzle. Or a rib that had come out of place and you had gotten used to the pain that came with breathing, but it finally snapped back and you took a painless breath for the first time in months.

Magic was real. My roommate was a witch. An entire world that I thought was fiction was coming true before my eyes.

But as I mutely unlocked the doors to my car and started the drive to Jake’s house so we could pour a curse into his shoes, the only thing I felt was validation. The only thing I felt was, relief. 

Finally.

James was getting what he deserved.