Love Potion Number Nine (part 7)

I looked at my roommate with one eyebrow cocked and did not miss the fact that Casie was hiding something behind her back when she stood before us again.

LouAnne crossed her arms and legs. “What does ethereal have to do with finding a guy?”

“Yeah,” Tina nodded, crossing her arms and legs, too.

“Ethereal as in … magic…” Casie’s smile was broad as she brought White Magic Love Potions by Prunella R. Brown out from behind her back—a dusty old book that made LouAnne sneeze so hard her glasses fell off.

“Ugh,” I groaned hiding my face in my hands. Casie was always reading woo woo stuff and then trying out her new ideas on hapless “volunteers.” In those days, that job mostly fell to me. To this day I get nervous if more than one candle is lit at a time, because of the one time Casie had over a hundred candles going in the tiny one bedroom apartment we’d lived in before the mother-in-law. She said she wanted to see how much heat it would generate. I guess she got her answer when a curtain caught on fire. Fire alarms went off. Fire trucks came. Our landlord kicked us out.

“Listen ladies, it can’t hurt. Right?” A charismatic salesperson when she wanted to be, it wasn’t long before Casie had us convinced. We would each cast a spell to draw our fantasized, perfect men to us.

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