Vita threw a paper napkin at her, and Moira laughed. "You mean the Moira Byrne wisdom that had you spelling your initials with bugs?" Vita asked dryly.

"Right! That wisdom!"

Tess came back and sat down, curling one leg neatly beneath her.

"You're so dainty," Moira said with a sigh, wishing the same could be said about her. Then she froze in her seat, her hazel eyes wide. One hand reached out to grab Tess's arm. "Goddess-I think he's here, downstairs," she whispered. She hadn't deliberately been casting her senses, but her neck had prickled, and when she concentrated, she thought she felt Ian’s vibrations.

Vita fluttered her eyelids. "Oh, no-I don't think I can take the excitement of seeing Ian Delaney. Someone help me. Fetch a cold cloth." She swayed in her chair while Tess broke up with laughter. Moira looked at her.

"I'll fetch you a cold cloth," she said, "for your mouth."

Vita and Tess laughed harder, and Moira narrowed her eyes. "Could we have more sympathy, please?" she asked. "How often do I fancy a lad?"

"Not often," Tess agreed, sobering. "Everyone, be casual."

This made Vita laugh again. Moira turned her attention to her latte as though it were all-absorbing. Come up here, she thought. Come upstairs. You're thirsty.

She wasn't putting a spell on Ian or sending him a witch message. She was just wishing hard. Ian Delaney had transferred to her regular school two years ago, and Moira had immediately developed a crush on him. He was gorgeous in a rough-cut kind of way, with thick brown hair that never looked quite tidy enough, deep blue eyes, and one dimple in his right cheek when he smiled. He'd been such a refresh- ing change from some of the more upper-class snobs who went to Moira's school-outspoken, funny in a cheeky way, and completely unable to be intimidated, either by teachers or students.

Best of all, he was a witch.